The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-02-17
OLD JERRY.

up the hillside. The burden or MS sew
enty years and the bundle of unwieldy
boards on his shoulders compelled him
to pick his way and TO rest often. There
was a pause at the top OF the first hill.
another at Pinneo's orchard; and twice.
On the long stretch beyond, Jerry put
down his load and breathed heavily.
At the top of the next hill, the last on
the home climb, he sat down for a long
rest. He did not look once on the won
drous scene below him, though one
would think that even miser might
forget his money bags long enough to
glance back at the landscape miles away,
where towers and crosses and pillars
of fire are piled against the gray sky.
1t is a road from which poet, locking
down. would see three consultations
fallen to the earth But for Jerry,
huddled down against his bundle, there
We're no illusions: for him there were
no starry clusters, no banks of fire. He
knew they were only electric lamps
shining out from the cities around the
bay. Moreover, the knowledge that he
was nearly home was more to him than
any landscape. AS he rested he thought
of the first load he had carried up this
road: he thought of the many times he
had trudged over other roads-thought
of that first year in California, when
he could walk all the way from Pete's
grocery dhere was no grocery them
without stopping once.
His mind drifted further and further
back, touching here and there, until it
reached his boyhood. He saw the
there wasn't much doing on the farm.
Even the features of the teacher grew
distinct-that teacher who always set
Dick Dawson, Joe Pillinger and himself
to splitting wood and drawing water
when the committee men came. The
boys used to drag the wood along until
IL was in line with the windows, so the
visitors could see their powerful strokes
with the axe. What big armfuls they
carried in, and with what pretended
carelessness they strobe past the COM
mittee men, though they could not keep
from grinning when Judge Lawton, "the
big man Of the district" said. Miss
Turner. these boys are a credit to YOU
But their pride was crushed suddenly
when Lawton's Mary, the shrewdest girl
in the neighborhood, said to them, "Well,
you boys are easy taken in. Why, the
teacher knows you are the three ounces
OF the school, and sets you to work be-
cause she don't dare let you read be-
fore company"
Jerry brooded over this blow to his
self-respect and wished he could quit
school. II never did like that old Nc.
Guffey's Reader, anyhow" he said, IAN
money an buy land an ride to town
in a spring wagon like Mr.. Smith" 1t
seemed to the boy that his chance in
life had come when farmer Smith said
to him one morning, Jerry, have sent
John away, and you must take his
place. A boy thirteen years old has got
no business fooling away his time in
school,
Jerry went to work gladly. and worked
early and late for four years, but dur
Ing all this time Mr.. Smith said nothing
about pay. Jerry was anxious to find
out whether he was earning any money,
SO one day he asked. "Mr. Smith, don't
You think I'm worth wages?" Smith
was thunderstruck. What do you
think you've been a-getting? Didn't I
take you when nobody else would and
bring you up and educate you? And
now you want to pass over all that and
take pay for the little you've done late
ly. Well, there's gratitude for you; Ma
Smith, come ont here and listen to this
fellow; he's In regular tantrum.
Would you believe it? He wants paw
for pitching a little hay and digging a
few potatoes"
Jerry did not wait fer Mrs. Smiths
comments, but went back to the field
That night he lounged over to Judge
La.wton's, and, leaning against the back
fence, told Mary what he had done, for
her smile was always sympathetic and
her words comforting.
Fours years passed swiftly. The Law
tons moved to Oregon, taking Mary
with them. and Jerry went to work for
himself. But he was not able to get
steady employment, for most families
did their own work, excepting in the
busy season. 'I1l get a job wherever
can for few MONTHS said Jerry: "by
that time I'll have regular work" But
the months went into years, and Jerry
grew to depend upon the odd jobs in the
nelghborhood. He was busy most of the
time. and in ten years had saved 5000
Then came a long sick spell in which
his money all went and left him in debt
besides. In the meantime Bill Purdy.
another homeless workingman, had come
into the neighborhood, and from this
time on Jerry had to be content with a
traction Of the odd jobs Try as he
would, he could not save more than a
dollar or two at a time--nothing like
enough to buy land and build a house
All that life was ended now, and Jerry
was in new land, yet he liked to lin
ger In the past, though others, knowing
MS life, could see nothing worth look
Ing back upon. Even the girl he re-
meinbered was a queer, ugly one. six
Years older than himself. But she was
the only girl who had ever listened to
him: the only girl who had never
laughed at him. To her perhaps he did
not seem uncouth. His shoulders We're
no more stopped than her own, his walk
was no more shambling. She liked Jer-
nv. and her dull and colorless face
frightened at his coming. AS for Jerry.
the girl was so much to him that when
he was hired to drive a team to Cali
fornia his first thought was ..This
means seem Mary" The man became
Il boy again.. and for the two months
before he left Tennessee he attended
meetin" regularly and lent his cracked
bass to the singing. There are those
who yet remember how, Sunday after
Sunday. his voice reverently quavered
out:
Bring forth the royal diadem
And crown Him Lord of ALL
What to the rest OF the party was five
tollsome months Of travel was to Jerry
nothing but delight. From his high sea
behind the faithful oxen he looked out
across the hot alkali plains and dreamed
and builded.
From Sacramento, where the party dis
banded, Jerry tramped towards San
Francisco. Often he went hungry; many
nights he slept in the corners of hay
fields, at some doors the dog was set
ha fx.yifr,