The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1898-08-26

"Jack!" in as Indifferent tone as
could command, "are you afraid of
worms?"
"Naw," was the response, "da amt
nuthin' to be feerd of.
II .am," 1 declared, meekly.
Jack glanced at me with such a look
of scorn that felt scorched. My hor-
ror of the creepy, crawly things had
never seemed contemplate before. !
despised myself more than the boy
despised me.
"Deml" and he turned his head away.
Very meekly l leaned forward and
asked: 'Will you please pick the
worms off the morning-glory vines?
They are eating all the leaves. l can
not touch them"
With look that showed the mascu-
line pity for my feminine weakness
and had in it touch of chivalry, Jack
went to the vines and worked an hour.
kept away from him, and worked in
doors.
"Da's all gone," he announced. Yer
needn't be Altered to go out there
now" l looked the gratitude l felt,
and waited, for it was evident Jack
had proposition to make. 1t would
have made it easier for him if he had
known how gladly would accept any
proposition that would attach him to
the house.
'If you'd like me to watch dem
things"-fne reserve that he did not
say worms-"I'll keep 'em Off"
"Thank you," said, hastily, getting
up and Offering my hand. How kind
you are!" He hesitated moment,
and then his dirty hand rested in mine
so quietly that knew Jack and were
friends. Later he told me he was 16
years old. He looked about 13, except
his face, in which were the lines of
middle age. Such barren life history
even for 16 years! His mother had
died eight years before, after life
that, when he looked back on it in his
manhood out of wider knowledge of
the worlds moral standards, would
make him blush. There had been
other children, but all older, and he
did not know anything about them.
His last step-father had thrown him
off after his mother died, and Jack
| had drifted. One woman had let him
sleep on the floor in her house part of
the time. 1t was the best she could do.
| for she had six in the family and two
beds,
That hunger and Jack were familiar,
his stunted body showed. He drove a
horse that was used to hoist the buck
cts of coal from canalboat, and this
he had done since he was livery small
boy. He looked upon himself as a
great success in the business world,
| for he sometimes earned two dollars
| a week. He could read very haltingly
| in primer, but he could not write.
His life story came in patches, and
was revealed all unconsciously.
Work stopped. Jack looked thinner,
but the wall of reticence was most DIFF
ficult to scale or to penetrate. That
Jack was hungry often was certain
ty, but who dare suggest it to this king
Of his own kingdom9
Jack had become problem. Being q
woman with great faith in mans abii-
ty to solve problems, and no fear of
| taking the seat of learner at the feet
of him who had once been a boy,
| sought q man who knew and loved
boys,
Jack must go to the country. A
year is the time for which he must go.
You find out how Jack feels, and I'll
find the place"
When the country was suggested,
Jacks face flushed O mahogany red,
and his eyes glistened. AT once cloud
| overshadowed him. "How can take
care of meself2"
"The way will be found. Jack. If
you'll 60"
III 60 tomorrow"
The Junior Republic opened it's
doors, and the day of departure came.
With great fear and trembling the
question of clothes was hroached. 1t
was met with ''I'll get clothes meself
If can get job regular"
"Yes, but to 60 on the train, Jack,
those you have on win hardly do If
you would let me get you some clothes
to go in"
The face, that at times looked at you
with the loving confidence of q baby,
and again with the keen, skeptical
glance of man who had known more
knaves than friends, was raised to
mine, and, with the trembling lip of O
| proud soul forced to face his own in
adequacy to meet the world. Jack said
simply: 'If yen feel better, I'll take
de cloes to go away" This was Satur-
day.
| Sunday afternoon the clubhouse was
open for the boys, but Jack was not
there, nor could he be found. The bell
rang, and boy came in. Say, Jack
amt had nothin' to eat since yest'day
mornin'; he's behind the coal box at
the corner" said the small boy cham
pion, whose thin neck and wrists told
of sympathy born of experience. No
message would bring Jack. At last he
was visited in the corner. where doubt
less he had spent the night. and per-
suaded to go to restaurant near by.
He could not eat. He drank o cup of
coffee, and took some buns to carry
away.
This was my success In my effort to
establish q friendship with Jack.
could force him. out of pity for me, be-
cause showed my feelings, to consent
to take clothes, but he would not tell
me even then that he was hungry.
That week saw Jack on his way to
the unknown land of Country.
| al, !, L.