The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1899-04-20
Written for The Prison Mirror
CHERISHED
RECOLLECTIONS,

one afternoon on hot day in July
last year, just after one o'clock, in that
lazy time, when loafers and Spaniards
are wont to take their siSta, | was en-
JOylng the soft side of a plank on the
shady side of warehouse, situated on
the quay next to the river, at Sarnia,
Ont, when another weary willy came
around and threw himself down near
me. L knew he was tramp by his
looks, but waited for him to start the
talking first. He did not feel inclined
though, for lie seemed to be occupied
too much with his own thoughts, and
from his looks l thought they were sad
ones, so my curiosity got the best of me
and | asked him what he was looking
so long -jawed about. Instead of answer
ing me, he ask me if had spare snipe
about me; so l gave him one and put
my query to him again.
Well, he said, 1 was just thinkin' of
when [ was young kid and first hit
the road, and of how 1 used to hang
around Sarnia when 1 was playin' the
stowaway act up and down the lakes.
Just at this particular spot had one of
the happiest moments of my life. One
of those gun-boats that prowls the lakes
lookin' for smugglin' crafts, was layin'
here at the dock, which was an unusual
circumstance, as they almost always
anchored in midstream. l used to get
my grub from the vessels mostly; so as
luck would have it, [ happened to stray
down here about dinner time, and see
ing the revenue cutter, thought there
was chance of getting a square meal
on her. So 1 braced up and put on
brassy look and started aboard of her,
but OF course was stopped as soon as l
reached the inner end of the gang plank
by a marine, who asked me what ]
wanted, and told him in a confidential
manner that l was looking for some
thing to eat. He told me to wait
minute and he would see what he could
do for me, and went away, but returned
in little bit and told me to follow him.
He took me into the ships mess room,
where a lot of marines were eating, and
had to give them a con, before they
would let me eat, but afterwards when
[ did commence eating, they would
not let me quit, until was about ready
to bust. After dinner they took me up
on the forecastle and they brought out
a suit of clothes, that some lad had
worn when he enlisted among them,
and the ships tailor shortened the
pants, because they were just a little to
long for me. They put white shirt on
me and completely toged me from head
to food. They gave me a pin cushion
with pins and needles in it and spool
of thread to mend my clothes on the
road. They put dozen cigarettes in
my top vest pocket and gave me plug
of Jolly Tar tobacco. o say, l was
looking swell, though 1 was the proud
est boy in town with my cutaway vest,
low shoes and nice felt crusher on my
head. When 1 went up town where the
kids were, none of them knew me. The
clothes only kept in good condition for
a week or so, but the remembrance of
them almost brings the tears to my
eyes, to think, that those happy days 1
had, when 1 was a small kid, will never
come again. But will cherish the re-
collection of how kindly the Tars
aboard the Yankee cutter treated me,
and although it makes me sad, there is
a happiness in that sadness, which is
far better than if was all smiles.
M. j.