The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1895-06-21

5eventeener, ex-member of an eastern
IRE department. ''No feller cud live in
that there fire more IN half mint. He'd
nev to breathe, an then 'twould be all
up with him."
'That you a-yellin over yer loss,
Jim?" pleasantly asked Joe Backsey,
edging into the crowd and patting the
unfortunate barkeeper on the back.
cts Injin Mary. Her baby's in the
loft. o Lord, just listen to the poor
devill" said Jim as Mary uttered an
other cry.
Joe picked up bucket of water and
poured it over himself. and an instant
later dashed into the flames and up the
blazing ladder which led to the loft
Not a man spoke. 1t seemed that no one
breathed for a moment. The deacon
closed his eyes, and his lips were seen
to move rapidly, and many men, though
unused to such exercise, followed the
deacon's example.
Suddenly a mighty roar broke from
the crowd as Joe Backsey, hatless, hair
less, beardless and almost black, emerged
from the blazing building with dirty
bundle in his arms He had nearly
crossed the street when suddenly he
stopped, screamed, "Catch it!'' threw
the child and dropped face downward
Oh the ground.
The deacon was by his side in an in
slant, shouting for water and oil as he
tenderly turned the insensible form
over.
"No CO." said Seventeener, giving
Joe's face a critical glance. Hes
breathed the fire. know it by his lips
an nose. He won't never breathe moth
in else"
"Joe, Joel" cried the deacon, while
big tears fell from his rugged face.
"God hev mercy on your soul!"
From beneath the cruelty singed eye
brows and lashes Joe's good natured eyes
opened. His cracked lips parted and
smiled. He tried to speak, but sudden
ly he gasped, shivered, and then the
deacon knew by the way Joes head
hung over the kind old arm that sup
ported it that his partner had drawn his
last dividend.
For some moments the crowd stood
in respectful silence. Then Jim Slipson
invited the crowd to open his few re-
manning bottles and drink deep to Joe's
good luck in the next world. A stretch
er was then improvised, and Joe was
carried to the office of the Quickledge
company. There was no formal lying in
state. There was not a single flower
placed on the rude catafalque, but men
of all degrees crowded to see what re-
manned of the hero, and many of them
when they went away showed the first
indications of soul that had ever been
seen in their faces.
The three partners sat down to supper
and gazed sadly at the empty chair. The
major finally broke the silence
ga Christian couldn't have died more
nobly," said he.
"Christian!" exclaimed the deacon.
"The publicans and harlots shall go in
to the kingdom fore you and me. We
only offered our money, while he gave
his life.''
BLESSED be the promises, - said the
professor. Give, and it shall be given
unto you. Joe gave his life. Can we
believe he will get anything less in re.
turn?"
"Ef burnt off rings IL make an atone
mept nowadays. said the deacon, "he's
done his best, and nobody could do
more.
The deacon took upon himself the
mournful duty and pleasure of making
headboard for his deceased partner
and of painting thereon q suitable in
scription. For hours did the deacon
rack his brain for passage of Scripture
which would be appropriate, and he
finally painted on the headboard the
verse:
Greater love hath no man than this,
that man lay down his life for his
friends. "
But while 1t was drying and the dea-
CON was absent for a few moments some
heterodax person strolled in, read the
inscription, and seizing the paintbrush
wrote;
''How bout feller that saves Injin
babies thet hain't his friends?''
And thus reads the inscription to this
day
THE END.