Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-05-17
A STOLEN PIE.

he walked up Fifth avenue, clad in n fash
ionable suit of clothes, with shiny silk
hat on his head, few people could suspect
that he was suffering for want of food
He pursued his course up Fifth avenue
and finally reached Central park.
Weak and faint, but still maintaining
an Indifferent mien, he entered the park.
He strolled along it's shady lanes, pausing
at some water fountain to quench his
thirst.
He sat down at intervals and rested his
weak limbs, but the act of sitting seemed
to remind him more of his hunger.
1t is a hard trial for young, vigorous
and healthy man to go for any great length
of time without food and especially SO in
rich, populous city. If he had been
dressed in rags, he would have begged, but
it was utterly impossible for him to dc
that with his present appearance.
After awhile he found himself in a very
secluded part of the park. He seated him
self on bench by the lake. The birds
were gayly singing overhead, there was a
fragrant scent of flowers in the air, the
waters were rippling and sparkling, and
the swans and ducks were disportina
themselves on the breast of the lake. The
sounds Of childish laughter and merry
shouts were waited to his ears. He felt
moody and respondent; he wished he were
a swan or duck, or bird-in fact, anything
but human being. He cursed fate; he
cursed everything my God, y he thought,
chow would like morsel of food" He
felt like committing a robbery, a murder,
any crime at ALL only something that
would bring him food.
A light footstep near him aroused him
from his reverie. There before him stood
fat, chubby, rosy checked little child,
gazing at him with wide, staring eyes. In
his plump little hands he held a large
homemade pie.
Driscoll started up. The sight of that
pie was most tantalizing in it's effect upon
him. How he would like to eat it!
There was no one in the immediate vi.
| cinity, no one to observe him. The child
was fat and we'll fed, and he (Driscoll) was
| starving
He arose and approached the child. MY
| little man." said he, smiling as graciously
as it was possible for him to do, ''come
| here
"What have you there, my dearS' said
Driscoll, "pie9''
'Eth, thir," lisped the little one.
'Let me see it, baby he said, but the
| little one shook his head and held the pie
behind his back
"Come," said Driscoll, won't baby let
me see its pies'
The child gravely gave a negative shake
| of the head.
'Please let uncle see it," said Driscoll
o+ ttr,,nr oil inn
an effort to take it.
''No, no; me ANTS 1t" said baby.
''Let me have it, said Driscou impa-
| tiently.
The little one made a movement as
| though to run away
Tired of importuning the baby and fear.
| full lest it's mother or nurse should appear
| and spoil his opportunity, he suddenly
| bent his face close TO that of the child. AS
! Stunning the most diabolical and forbidding
| expression it was possible for him to do,
| he Kissed out, "Give me that pie; give me
| that pie quick, or I'll murder and eat you,
| quick!"
| The child gavea terrified scream, let the
| pie drop at Driscoll's feet and scampered
down side path as rapidly as his short
| little legs could travel. Driscoll quickly
| picked the pie up, held it in one hand,
which he placed in the breast Of his coat,
and sauntered nonchalantly away. In a
few moments he heard in the rear of him
the little child: "There he goes nussey;
there he goes, nussey. He got my pie.'
| Nonsense, child,'' said female voice,
"that gentleman did not take it, 1t was
some one else"
| The child persisted in his statement, but
| the nurse refused to believe it, and mean
| while Driscoll had passed beyond hearing.
| He wanted to find some quiet spot where,
unmolested, he could eat his stolen pie,
but everywhere he went he found one or
more persons At length he reached a
| very secluded out of the way corner, and,
| sitting himself on the grass, drew forth
his precious pie
| The righteousness of the thing now
| struck him, and he burst into hearty
peal of laughter. He held the pie at arm S
length and looked at it. He was just about
to place it to his mouth; but, alas and
| alack, There is many a slip 'twixt cup
and lipp' A great, large Newfoundland
dog at this juncture jumped from clump
of bushes, snatched the pie from his hands
and bounded swiftly away
Poor Driscoll! All the merriment fled
from his heart at once. His pie was gone
am afraid ne gave vent to his feelings in
rather more profane language than it
would be well to record here.
Fate is against me, " he sadly muttered
| as he arose to his feet and walked away
| "My God" he thought, "have l got to
starve to death surrounded by plentyp 1t
Is pretty hard. Well will hold up as long
as have strength, only it is hard death. :"
When he turned out Of the park, it was
we'll along in the afternoon. He wandered
aimlessly along the streets, scarcely know
ing in which direction he was going
AS he passed certain house he heard q
childish voice in his rear exclaim, Papa,
papa, there is the man that took my pie!"
Turning, he beheld the identical little
child whose pie he had taken clinging to
the hand of gentleman, evidently just re-
turning from business.
The gentleman's face seemed familiar,
and no sooner had he scanned Driscoll's
countenance than he cried out, "John
Driscoll, how are youpe and at the same
time held out his hand for the other to
take. This Driscoll did, and as remem.
brances came to his brain he recollected
an old college chum and warm friend
"Charley Vaughn" he cried, II am de-
lighted to see you"
1t was particularly happy meeting for
Driscoll. After some conversation Vaughn
invited him in, and ere long Driscoll relat
ed the whole story of the pie over glass
Of wine Vaughn was immensely amused.
He insisted upon Driscoll remaining
with him until certain remittances arriv.
ed and loaned him a sum of money to tide