Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1893-05-19
CONNORS.
The Value Of a Kind Word to a
Lonely Man.

aConnors," the lieutenant had saiC
during their memorable interview
shave you never known anyone who
was always interested in what you did
who was sorry when you got into
trouble, and glad when yon behaved
yourself?"
'sNo, SIR he had replied; II ain't
had friends l don't seem to make
friends easy. l had good pal oncet
in Chicago, but he didn't gave a-he
didn't care anything about my gettin
into trouble"
"Connors," said the lieutenant, anc
he looked thoughtfully at silver
framed photograph on his desk, that
Connors saw wGs 4 picture of little
girl with long tresses of wavy hair,
''I've little daughter back in st. Paul.
/ hope she will come out here some
time. More than anything else
should like to leave to her the memory
of her father as an upright and, hope,
a brave soldier, and if l have any as
pirations for great deeds in this profes-
sion of ours, it is because | want her 70
be proud of me when she grows older.
l think it helps us to do right if we
sometimes think of the sorrow we
bring to those who love US and to our
friends when we do wrong, and, if
you've no objections, Connors, | should
like you to think of me as your friend,
if you will, for I take more of an in
terest in you than in most men I've
known in the ranks, and nothing would
do me more good than to see You bring
credit on yourself and your regiment,
and hardly anything would grieve me
more than to see you go to the devil, as
you viii If you don't stop now. But l
think you viii stop, and, if you viii let
me, should like to shake hands with
you
Connors had suddenly found the pic
ture of the little girl grow rather dim
before his eyes, and something felt un-
pleasant in his throat, but he managed
to mutter Thank ye, sir," and since
that time he had been drunk only once,
and the feelings he had known when
he found that the lieutenant had heard
of that he had never experienced before.
And now he was standing on the edge
of the parade-ground looking out on the
brown prairie over which the cool au-
tumn wind was steadily sweeping, and
wishing he had been better man.
Far away the curious peaks and rocks
of the Bad Lands rose like the citadels
of some ancient city. The scene was a
picture of dreariness, not living or
moving object in sight. If Connors had
been imaginative he might have fan
cied he was lonely mortal looking
out on the primeval world. But his
weary familiarity with these surround
ings prevented their arousing any un-
usual feelings. He was thinking of his
wretched boyhood and youth, and of
the vice and crime he had seen and
taken part in, of the years sentence he
had served, and how he had enlisted
under an assumed name to es-
cape capture for shooting Sandy Peters
in Fagan's saloon in Chicago. 1t was
true that if he had not shot Sandy,
Sandy would have shot him, but he
knew very well that the plea of self-de-
fense would have availed him iitt.e
with his past record, and with any
number of Sandy's friends ready to
testify against him. He had sometimes
wished since then that he had not
lodged the roughs pistol, but had
stood still and made fitting end to his
youthful but precocious career in the
appropriate setting of the vilest dive
in Chicago, and gone into the history of
that city's crime as a terror to the po-
lice and an object of worthy emulation
to every young tough. What made this
all the more pltiaJlo wns that connors,
with all his knowledge of evil and un-
happiness, was little moro than a hoy
in years, the time when hope should
seem brightest and life most full Of
promise. But of late, since that talk
with the lieutenant, and especially
since the little girl had come ont to join
her father, life had seemed more hope
full somehow-he could not exactly tell
why They're the only friends I've
ever had-him and the little 'un," said
Conno4s to himself, "and won't go
back on 'em; I'll be credit to 'em yet
if can"
A great intimacy had arisen between
the little girl and Connors from the
moment when the lieutenant had intro
duced them and the child had said, in a
polite little grown-up manner: Pm
very happy TO meet you, Mr.. Connors,"
and had insisted on shaking hands
with the orderly, much to his con-
fusion, for he did not know exactly
what to do with the soft little hand she
held out to him, and his sensations
were curious as he looked into tho
great brown eyes she smilingly raised
to his.
II think Connors will excuse your
calling him mister" said the lieuten-
ant, with smile.
AS Connors looked out on the prairie
and thought in his way about all these
things, he was conscious that he had
changed very much in the last few
weeks If he could have analysed his
feelings he would. have said tlrt he
had more self-respect than ever before,
for he had been living straighter. as he
would have expressed it. He had dis
tinct longing to do something in the
world, and to bring some happiness to
those who were kind to him-matters
he had never taken much interest in
hitherto; but he may not have been
greatly to blame, perhaps, for he had
never known anyone who was kind to
him. AS he stood there he heard his
name called behind him, and turning,
saw the little girl running toward him
across the parade ground, without her
hat, the wind waving her brown hair
back from her forehead. When she
came up to him she caught his hand in
one of her own, resting the other con-
fidingly on his coat sleeve, and, as she
looked up at him, Connars saw that
her eyes were brimming over with
tears, and frightened little quaver
sounded in her voice as she said:
"Connors, they're-they're going off
to fight the Indians. Papa will have
to leave me, won't he? and he may be
killed. Oh. Connors, do you think he'll
be killed?" and she bent her head over
Connors blue sleeve and sobbed AZ II
her heart would break.
Don't cry, MISS" said Connors.
"Killed? Why, he couldn't get killed
if he wanted to. Poohr' he contin-
ued, grandly, "Injuns is all towards
they'd run If you waved your hand at
'em. ~ He knew that, not to put too
fine Il point upon it, he was lying
outright; but he told himself that he
was used TO it and ought not to mind
it now.
"Do you think, Connors, you could
take care of him some and not let him
get shot?" said the little girl.
''Why, certainly, miss" answered
Connors, promptly.
You see, I'd feel more comfortable