The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-05-28
bundle had not really been hers to

bundle had not really been hers to
give.
Keepsakes? Certainly not now.
Suddenly she sighted a familiar rag
ged jacket, and a familiar, dreadfully
dirty-looking cap. 1t was the boy. 1t
was nearly dusk, but she still could no.
/ tice he looked feeble and somehow
smaller than before. He was shrink.
ing in corner and holding out paperi
with remarkable timidity for a stree;
arab. III fact, he held himself so out
of the crowd that Miss Jennie has
courage to go up and speak to hin
alone.
please, boy" said she, blushing yer.
much, Il want to thank you for some.
thing you did for me-
The boy squirmed and shriveled il.
, the corner. Jennie felt relieved. Shit
was half afraid he would be very
vulgar boy, and greet her with toa
cordial familiarity. But:
Yes, nm, least no, MN; 'twasn't
me. 1 guess it was another boy, MN, y
said the boy.
ooh, nor cried Jennie. 81 am sure
know the-coat and the queer-I beg
your pardon-I mean quaint cap. But,
if you'd let me see your face more
clearly, if I've made mistake / saw
your face when you fell the other day,
you know
The newsboy gave a startled glimpse
up and so jerked the queer dirty cap
that tumble of short curly hair fell
from its ties, beneath the head cover
ing Jennie gasped. The boy-the boy
wore certainly the neither garments of
q boy, but he broke into a torrent of
tears, budding down in his corner,
which assured the amazed Miss Jennie
that he wasn't boy at all, but girl.
Only a girl could weep in that way.
fnFc zfr nc
forgotten; down went Jennie's pocket
book, the cheque forgotten; down went
good little Jennie herself in the corner.
her tears at once flowing in sympathy.
You poor little thing" cried Jennie.
What are you doing here, dressed like
that?"
''Di-Di-Dick's i'll, and can't walk,
an'-an'-dad made me comet"
But your dress,"
Girls amt lowed TO sell papers, so
dad told me to wear Di-Di-Dick's
clos
rs Dick very ill?"
Hes dying," came out with a wall
Jennie trembled. gathering her purse
and magazine together. She had made
money by selling the misery of dying
child-a child who had no money. Jen-
ME trembled, and then she picked up
the little girl, and took her hand and
said:
Let US go and see and comfort
Dick
What would papa have said, shortly
expected home for dinner? What would
the Mortified dearest friends have said,
chatting merrily in cosy parlors and
eating candy? What, indeed, would
everybody have said if they had seen
the daughter of the bank secretary
walking in the duSky, dirty back
streets, comforting very little boy
who was only pretence of boy, any
way? All, well! Miss Jennie's con-
science was her own, and she had made
up her mind now about who owned that
check, whose misery and sickness gave
the little poem birth. She walked on
with her head in the air. and an ath-
letic touch-me-not grace which, per-
hapS, basketball had assisted nature to
give. She was remarkably straight,
erect and determined young lady when
she was set upon a thing, and even her
big brother in the bank was aware of
the solidity of her, biceps.
They came to tenement building and
arose up narrow stairs. The little news
paper girl pantingly followed Miss Jen-
MES footsteps. In passage they halted.
Where are your rooms, dear? Where
are Dick's?" asked Miss Jennie.
We've only one" said the child, and
they entered it. and in an instant Miss
Jennie was on her knees by a mattress
on the floor where the boy lay, with
gaunt face and lean limbs. and a pite
Gus crying in his eyes for relief-for |
death.
Jennie did not notice starved look |
ing woman at a washtub, who cried !
out in amazement at her entrance. She |
did not see the horrible squalor. She |
saw but the boy, and he looked up and |
wondered that anyone should weep for |
him. 1t had never occurred before, save
when the occasional tears of his mother
fell, she who ionged as much as he to
have relief-to have it all over and done
with.
Dick, poor Dickl" cried Miss Jennie.
L was very wicked. Do you remem-