The record-union., 1898-07-17
BOBBY MEALSACkS
AND The SHAMROCKS.

ANU lhE ShAMkUGM.
Big Pat Mulcahey had been wrestling
for life in the dread clutches of Afri-
can fever
He lay in the little wooden hut. which
the Mashonaland Railway Company
had dignified with the title of New
Tipperary Station Already the twin
steel rails which marked the progress OF
the track to Salisbury had passed far
into the interior. bringing with them
the army of engineers, laborers and ra-
tive helpers. Big Pat Mulcahey, who
just a short week before, had been as
strong a toiler as any of these pioneers,
was now left behind, sick to the verge
OF death and no one to care for him
save only Bobby Mealsacks."
Now Bobby Mealsacks was a Kaffir
boy brought from the coast under Null
caheys especial protection. He earned
his peculiar name from the fact that,
having no clothing to speak of, he had
managed with considerable ingenuity
to make unto himself sort of bloomer
costume out of two small Indian meal
sacks found on the platform at Beira
Rhodes in this section of Africa had
recognized the sacks and demanded i'm
mediate restitution. Bobby, utterly
gultless of Intentional larceny from the
British South African Company, pray
ed with tears to be allowed to keep his
garments. But the official (an assist
ant deputy storekeeper or something of
that sort) was adamant. For the first
in h 10
bullying somebody, so he bullied poor
Bobby with all his might. Indeed he
was in the act of trouncing the child,
when big Pat Mulcahey came swagger-
ing along the newly laid rails.
What's the matter here, I don't
know" remarked Big Pat, as he wedg-
ed his giant form between the angry
official and the covering boy
"Wot's the matter?" cried the assist
ant deputy storekeeper .'Wot's the
matter? Wy this ere little blubbering
nigger as jolly we'll prigged two of the
comp'ny's meal sacks and sewed 'em
up into jacket and trousers. That's
wot's the matter, Hirish,'
Big Pat Mulcahey surveyed first the
meal sacks and then the cockney Off
cial
An is that all ye're maxim such a
fuss about?" quoth he. Well you
know that those same bits of canvas
are no value to the comp'ny. Why. all
the boys are usin' them to patch their
clothes. 1t seems to me, my White
chapel friend, that you're exceedin'
your ordhers. This little darky goes an
elevates himself above the level of his
race. He puts on dacint clothing an
give civilization hoist Considerin'
the crayture's opportunities he has
done mighty well; an it's myself that
thinks he ought to be encouraged. SO
be off with you an leave the child
alone. Come along, Bobby Mealsacks.
Come along, ma bouchaleen dhu On
behalf of the Right Hon. Cecil Rhodes.
L give you leave to keep your new suit -
The cockney official, overawed by Big
Pats size, skunk away, and from that
time forth Bobby Mealsacks regarded
Mulcahey as the greatest of men. In
deed. when the rail trucks moved west
ward. Bobby managed to move with
them; and the pioneers looked upon him
as Fat Mulcahey's protege and servant
1hls was why, when Big Pat lay
groanlng on the cocoanut mating in
New Tipperary Station" Bobby Meal
sacks alone remained to nurse him.
rat Muicahey, the fever having in
some degree departed, sat up and took
look at the almanac on the station
wall
'Thanaman dhia," he exclaimed. "I
must have been powerful sick Bobby.
Tomorrow be st. Patrick's Day. an
me within an ace O. missn' it. Faith.
put twas lucky | woke up. Go over
there in the corner, ye little haythen
an hdnd me down the box O. CLAY with
the shamrock in it,
But when the obedient Bobby Meal
sacks went to the corner shelf he found
no box OF clay. Alas and alack, The
treasured shanirOcks which Big Pat
| mad brought out with infinite trouble
from his native parish, and which he
had managed to keep green and fresh
| even in blistering Mashonaland, were
! there no longer. Somebody had taken
! them away during Mulcahey's delir-
| ium.
Box not dere, Baas," said the little
kaffir: box gone, an Bobby Mealsack
| berry sorry
/ With yell of anger Big Pat sprang
! to his feet, only to fall weakly back
| upon the mating.
My shamrocks gone,' he cried
| The shamrockS | reared myself" >
| An tomorrow ST. Patrick's Day.
| o, wirrasthrue, Wirrasthrue. What
thief was mean enough to steal my
/ box O. shamrocks?"
| Bobby Mealsacks' beady eyes grew
dim with tears. He hurried from side
/ to side of the little station hut. exam
ming every nook and Granny for some
| trace of the missing box But never
a shamrock could he find. The Irish
mans humble little souvenir of his far
distant home had indeed been taken
| Pat Mulcahey tossed and tumbled or
| the mating like one demented The
| loss of the shamrocks on the very eve
of St. Patrick's Day was a terrible
blow to the simple hearted giant. par
ness When the railroad doctor
came along in his special engine dur
ing the afternoon he shook his head
| over Pats incoherent rawlings about
! ST. Patrick's Day and the stolen box
| He'll worry himself into a worse
fever than ever if he doesn't find those
| shamrocks or something like them, -
said the physician But there Were
! other cases along the line beside Null
cahey's. and there was no time to look
| through the Mashonaland marshes for
something resembling a shamrock Still
| shaking his head gloomily the doctor
stepped into the cab of his engine and
gave the signal to start.
I'm sorry for Mulcahey," he NUT
tered; hes mighty fine fellow.
Hello. where did you come