The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1899-10-12
TERMs.J Shopper year, in advaI ce
/ Six Months 80 cents.

Ills a serene, beautiful moonlight
night in early May, one of those nights
when we see the stars of heaven in all
their glory. The city has gone to sleep
and only the miserables are supposed
to be stalking abroad. A roistering
set of boys, tired of disturbing the
peace of the good citizens of the
suburb, have gathered on a corner
before separating for the night.
Among them is laughing, rosy
checked, curly haired boy of fourteen,
who answers to the nickname of.Curly.
He is the son of respectable parents;
but as full of devi!try as he can be.
AS the company breaks up he and
! another boy steal away together and
one of the other boys, remarks, "they
are up to something" and suggests to
his comrade that they follow and see
the fun. The curly haired boy and
his chum steal through alleys and
lanes until they reach backyard,
guarded by high fence, and then
they hold short consultation together.
Then Curly braces himself against the
fence, while the other lad climbs upon
his shoulders, catches hold of the top
of the fence and pulls himself over. A
few minutes elapse and the gate opens
and Curly slips into the yard, leaving
the gate ajar. Then the two of them
steal toward chicken coop in corner
of the yard. "Ah," said one of the boys
who had followed and had just reached
the gate, "they are chicken cooning."
Curly takes sack from under his coat
and pulls an iron jimmy out of it, then
steps to the door of the coop and prizes
the staple and paddock off of it. He
pulls the door open cautiously and
steps in. Then there is a flash, a re-
port of gun and Curly falls to the
ground riddled with buckshot. His
little pal stands paralized for a mo-
ment, then he springs forward, exclaim-
ing: care you hurt, Curly?"
eyes," comes the answer, "you do a
hotfoot quick. Here comes some
onew
He had just seen two figures running
toward them from the gate.
"Not if know it," said his pal. II
won't leave you now," and he dropped
on his knees beside him; at the same
time the other boys reached them.
"What's the matter?" they ask in
chorus, and it only takes moment for
them to understand. Then six willing
hands and arms pick Curly up, and six
willing feet 60 rushing through the
gate and down the alley with him.
They take him to drug store not far
away and there his wounds are found
to be mortal and the ambulance at the
hospital is telephoned for.
Words are incapable of depicting the
scene that took place when his mother
and father and sisters and brothers
were awoke from their peaceful slum-
bers in the wee hours of the morning,
probably from pleasant dreams, to.hear
the awful tidings that their idol of the
home, their darling was shot unto
death.
"Oh," exclaims his mother anxiously,
cit cannot be Curly, for he is in bedw
and she rushes to his chamber, but he
is not there. Then her anguish and
grief is heart-rending.
He had come home at an usual hour
for sham, and pretended to 60 to bed;
but went out of his bedroom window
instead and away with the boys again.
His folks just reached his bedside in
the hospital in time to see him draw
his last breath.
The man who placed the trap gun,
loaded to kill, in his chicken coop, was
justified in the eyes of the law. And,
indeed, Curly had done wrong; but,
then, did he deserve to die? Under
the circumstances, were there:not other
methods by which Chicken cooner'
might have been captured, without
killing him? Was it not taking more
than an eye for eye and a tooth for a
tooth? A human life for few paltry
chickens. M. J.