Evening star., 1896-01-18
THE GOVERNORS. FRIEND


From the Heart of Old Hickory and Other Stories
BY VIII Allen nromgosle.
Noiselessly, dreamily, with that sugges-
ton of charity which always fingers about
a snowstorm, fell the white faktss down,
in the arms Of the gray twilight. There
was an air Of desolation about the grim
old state house. as. one by ene, the great
doors creaked the departure OF the va
rioas occupants Of the honorable old pile
that overlooks the city and the sluggish
sweep Of the Cumberland beyond The last
lettering feet came down tie damp corr-
doris; the rustic of woman's skirts sent
a ghostly rattle through shadowy alcoves.
The governor heard the steps and the
rustic of the stiff bombazine skirts, and
wondered, in q vague way, why 1t was that
women would work beyond the time they
bargained for. The librarian was always
the last to leave. except the governor him
self. He bad heard her pass that door at
dusk, day in. day out, for two years, and
always after the others were gone. He
never felt quite alone in the empty state
house until those steps had passed by. This
evening, however, they stopped, and he
looked up iuIuiringly as the knob was care
fully turned, and the librarian entered.
II only stepped to say wvrd for the lit
tie hunchbaek's mother" she said She
Is not bad woman. and her provocetion
He remembered the words long after the
librarian had gone.
She Is - ~ :,1.,i,." That was a strange
plea to advance for a creature sentenced
to the Ea1lows. He sighed, and again took
up the long roll of paper.
1nasmuch as she was sorely wronged.
beaten, tortured by seeing her afflicted child
ifl-treated, we, the undersigned do beg Of
onlvn oh la,
compatible with the laws of the state and
the ,oftier law of mercy
Oh, that was an old story; yet it read
Well, too. that old. old petition with that
old, old plea-charfty. Five hundred names
were signed to 1t; and yet, thrice five hun
dred tongues would lash him if he set his
own name there 1t was a hard thing-to
! hold life in his hand and refuse it. Those
old threadbare stories old as pain itself,
had well-nigh wrought his ruin; his politi-
cal ruin. At least the papers said as much;
they had sneeringly nicknamed him Ten
der heart" ard compared him, with a
sneer, too, to that old. sterling hero-the
governors eyes sought the east window,
where the statue of Andrew Jackson loom
| and the gathering twilight. They had COM
pared them. the old hero who lived in
bronze. and the young human heart who
had no backbone" and was moved by a
| rogue's cry.
| Yet he had loved that majestic old statue
| since the day he had entered the executive
| office as chief ruler of the state, and had
| fancied for moment the old hero was
welcoming him into her trust and highest
| honor, as he sat astride his great steed
| with his cooked hat lifted from the head
| that had indeed worn large honors." But
| he had been so many times thrust into his
| teeth he could almost wish
| papers! Papers! Wanter paper. mister"
| A thin little face peered in at the door, a
face SO old, so strangely unchildlike. he
| wondered for an instant what trick of
= fa0fpnp6 knnutn0 faa al
man Upon the misshapen body Of child.
Yes said the executive, Il want a
| Banner"
| The boy bounded forward, as well as a
| dWarfed foot would allow, at the welcome
| yes, but stopped midway. the apartment
| and slowly shook his head at the remainder
OF the sentence, while an expression, part
| jubilance, part regret, and altogether dis
trust crossed his little old-young face
| Don't sell that sort, mister" said he.
None o our club don't. It's-low-lived."
| :Ehe governor smiled, despite his hard day
with the critics and the petition folks.
| What? You don't sell the Evening Ban
ner, the only Independent journal in the
| city?"
The newsboy was a stranger to sarcasm
! That's about the size ont" he said as
he edged himself, q veritable bundle of tat
tiers. triie nearer the red Goals glowing
in the open CRATE. E'' ,';: ~. a.
| "And so.' said he. ''you refuse to sell ths
! Banner. Why is that?"
"shueks! was the reply: "'Tain't nc
good. None G. us likes it. You see Gully
The executive started: but a glance at the
earnest, unconscious face convinced him the
| familiarity was not intentional dtsrespect.
You see," the boy went on, at seq mean
things; tells lies. you know. about friend
| O. mine"
One foot. the shorter. wfthered member
was thrust dangerously near to the GLOWING
coalbed; the little gossip was making him.
self thoroughly at home. The executive OBJ.
served 1t. and smiled. He also noted thu
| n hn .6o
sfvely pointed to seat.
insttnctiyely he glanced toward the cas-,
window. The bronze face wore a solemn
STURDY frown, but on the tip Of the grea
generals cooked hat a tiny sparrow hat
perched, and stood coquettishly picking al
the white snowfakes that fell upon the
bronze rim.
And SO the Banner abuses YOUR friend ?,
The executive turned again to the tat
teTs cozfiy ersconced In the soft depths o
the states purple. The old-young heae
nodded.
and what does IT say of l1im?"
) He wondered If it could abuse any on
cutie so so,indfy and SO mercilessly as i
} had dealt with him.
"Aw. sher!' The tatters. IN state wer
: growing contemptuous. 'It called him .
} 'mugwumpr
The governor colored. 1t said the SAM
Of him.
An" the boy went on, cit said ez ther
want no backbone to him. an ez he wu
only fitten to set the prfs'ners loose, an
to play the fiddle An it said lot about
feller named Ole Poplar
| "Whatw
The smile upon the governors fps CAV
place to hearty laugh as the odd little Wis
itor ransacked the everglades of memory fo
the desired timber from which heroes ar
| hewn.
Poplar? Bent it poplar? Nav, cedar
ash. wonnut. hick'ry-that's it! Hick'ry. Of
Hick'ry. 1t said lot about him; am
made the boys orful mad, an they won
sell the nasty paper
| The tatters began to culver with the ex
citement Of the recital The little old-youn
face lost something of its patient, prema
ture age, while the owner rehearsed tn
misdoings of the city's independent after
noon journal
The executive listened with a smile n
amused perp1exity. Evidently he was tn
friend' referred to, else the journal ha
sad the same Of two parties
Who Is your friend?" he asked yayuel
wondering as to what further development
| he might expect.
"Aw." said the boy, "he amt my friers
perzactly. He's Skinny's, though, an a
the boys STAINS up for Skinny"
And who is 'Skinny?"
Say, cully'-his words were slow and en-
phatic-'wher' wuz you raised? Don't yo