The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1899-11-16


and envelops the house in moist en-
brace rises slowly under the influence
of the suns rays, until. cleansed and
purified by them, it hangs over the
chimney tops, white, glistening mass
of vapor. Even the dull red bricks, the
clothes yards on the roofs, are rendered
beautiful, pictured as they are by the
soft light passing through veil of
cloud. There is man in blue blouse
leaning against the wall of building
opposite Pierre ST. jeans house. He is
waiting for somebody. The great bell
in a neighboring tower has solemnly
tolled six strokes, and the street begins
to hustle with the stir of life. The milk
wagons that had cast momentary va
riety on his monotonous watch three
hours before are now returning lazily
homeward. Another hour must pass
ere he can hope for relief. He yawns
and turns toward the corner. shivering
slightly, as if the mist still clung TO
his clothing.
"Good morning, citizen" calls a man
driving by in provision cart; "how
fares the watch?"
Truly, citizen" is the growing re-
ply. Its tiresome business: ! could
wish some one might try to escape to
make things interesting for me-"
The blinds are closely drawn in the
guarded house, and one would think
that all the occupants were sound
asleep. But there is a tall, sturdy-look-
ing man in rough clothes standing near
the little side door through which the
grocer and the butcher and the fruit
dealers are accustomed to enter with
their baskets. AT his side is huge bag
that looks as if it might have been
mattress. 1t is partially filled with
rags. AT the top of the stairs, with her
face pressed against window pane,
anxiously ~ through the blinds,
is swe Bttte girl, clad in
much-worn, once discarded dress. What
are these two waiting for? The hour
drags slowly by, but they remain as
fixed at their posts inside as does the
man in the blue blouse in the street OPP
posite.
At last the great, deep-toned bell in
the tower tolls again. The man in the
street turns once more to the corner.
In q moment his face lights up with
satisfied smile, and he steps leisurely
forward to meet tie man who had ac-
companied st. Jean in his walk on the
previous morning.
"Now. father" exclaims the little
girl at the window. The man at the
foot of the stairs picks up his bundle,
and. quickly opening the side door,
steps into the street. With his bag over
his shoulder. he takes step or two
and then shouts in a high key:
"Ra-a-gs Ra-a-gs!" Another step, and
he repeats his cry. Then the blinds are
thrown open. the window raised and
timid voice accosts the ragman and bids
him enter. The side door is opened
again, and the tall man disappears.
Meanwhile the night watch has greeted
the citizen of the day watch, and asks
him: when are we to cease guarding
this enemy of the people?'
Before noon, citizen" responds the
detective, "the Irreconcilable St. Jean
will be the guest of the republic"
Good! Pleasant dreams to him till
then"
Both citizen-watchers glance at the
house across the way and see the rag
man enter, but make no comment, for
they see nothing but a ragman.
Presently the ragman issues forth
again, STOPPING under his big bundle,
which is considerably larger than when
he entered. as well it might after pur-
chasing rags in such great house. He
crosses directly toward the watcher,
crying his "Ra-ags. Raa-gs!" harshly.
"Your trade is good this morning,
citizen," remarks the watch, pleasant
ly. observing the huge bundle.
THANK goodness. citizen" mutters
the ragman. ''all things have become
good under the republic"
AYE. aye! Live the republic!"
"Yes, live the republic!" assents the
ragman. but he mutters something un-
der his breath that sounds very like:
"Down with republicans" He contin-
ues on his way unmolested. Down the
long street to the right: across a pub
| lie square; along-what is that?
| Smothered sounds from his big bundle?
He hastily turns up an alley and lays
the bag upon a doorstep. He opens the
mouth carefully.
"Can you breathe?" he asks, anx-
| iously.
"Tes." comes a faint reply; "but
was so afraid you would get all tired
out, and I thought perhaps | might get
out now"
"No, no; not yet" whispers the rag
man.
"Well. then" continues the faint
voice. ''you must not forget to shout
Rags You haven't spoken since we
left our street"
That's So" says the astonished rag
| man. II did forget that"
Shouldering his bulky bag. he
energies once more upon the street cry
| ing: "Ra-a-gs!"
III. HI" exclaims ashrill voice from
fifth-etory window. "Hi. there. rag
man. I've got something for ycu."
| oNba,--''t %bir1C