The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-02-09

" y
Il tcas aDorting to ask you, tptll they
strike at the HOllister9"
the strikes beginning to make me go
wrong already, suspecting every body,
even my friends.
1t was relief to be diverted by the
Meyers house, the scolding stock Of the
ward, lean and ivid two story tene-
ment, where, plainly, tenants did their
own repairs and patched the rickety
outside staircase and mended the crook
ed windows from the Meyers junk heap.
'Hello, Meyersl' hailed Tommy.
The father came out, hearing them,
followed in moment by the son. The
old man had patriarchal. white beard,
shining. bald head and forehead
scored by innumerable wrinkles. He
fastened dim eye on the visitors. the
only sign of life that he gave. ''Hes
can't spik no Englis. " explained the
young man. He was short and bent and
hollow checked. He coughed a he
talked.
"You have a bad cold" said Harry,
with ready interest.
"Oh, it not'in, not'in, only like it
make me set down SO often-when
git de bag full" He added: s'Mr.
Alderman McGinnis give me medicine.
afull bottle; taxed it out of his pocket.
"Isn't he here9''
t'No; he gone to next street-W hin-
ney's de name. Say, he's good man."
He spoke rapidly to his father in his
own tongue. and as if in answer the
old man nodded several times and lifted
his trembling hands.
''He prays for him, he is so good, -
explained the son, with reverent air.
"He seen bout my mothers coffin,
everything. he lend me all de money,
and he git friend take my junk for 90
can pay. He's good, you bet. .
IF he is SO good, he cam want the
strike to so on, thought Billy as they
drove on to the Wbinneys'. Harry. in
front, said not word. What he
thought of Alderman McGinnis' good
ness he kept to himself. Neither did
Fitzmaurice speak until they were rein
ing up before the Whinneys' picket
fence. "Here's the Whinneys'," said
he; largest family in the ward; four
votes in it. Mrs. Whinney's widow
and an awful hard worker, but the boys
are wild"
The Whinneys had teaspoon Of q
garden and a small porch, on which sat
three of the wild boys, smoking. in
their Sunday clothes. They said that
the alderman had gone to the Widow,
Hoffman's.
'You all well?" asked Tommy.
"Well, yes; but Jimmy's in trou-
BILE. )" This from the eldest, tho others
mutually asserting.
whats the matter with Jimmy2''
eight. Tony Becker. He hit him
harder n he meant"
Either of them drunki''
"Both," said the brother senten-
tiously.
'Well, now, that's too bad" said
Tommy alphabetically, as if he had
been told that they were both cripples,
and he clicked his tongue against his
teeth.
Mas dreadful upset by it. said the
youngest brother.
"Of course. Say, how about bail?''
oh, Mr.. McGinnis seen about that
That'll be all right.
"Got into the papers?''
''No. sir. Mr.. NcGinnis, he seen =
reporter. Maybe he can keep it out"
There's man to tie to. exclaimed
Tommy warmly.
That's right" cried all the Whin-
ney boys in concert.
Then Harry drove on to the Widow
Hoffman's. The widow was slowly dy-
ing of an incurable disease. She had
been woman Of mark in the ward,
rearing five orphan children, with new
er cent from her husband nor go
much as lump of Goa, from the poor
overseer. and yet of no one in the ward
was there recorded more acts of kind
ness, small and great. The widows
Sunday cap showed at the window.
She was q large featured. gray haired
woman, who smiled with her eyes Of
tener than with her lips, woman that
strangers called plain, but it wouldn't
be we'll for one to use that word in
speaking of her in the Eighth ward.
No less than three nosegays and a loose
bunch of dollhouse roses frightened the
table before her. She beckoned with
her hand, and Tommy led the way into
the house, the door Of which was opened
by her daughter, The alderman had