Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1900-05-24

| ing back on the old argument that IL hi,
| father fought for his country it was hi.
country's place to look after his family.
The summer wore on. The Fourth oi
July dawned hot and sultry. The temper
ature rose with the sun: at 10 o'clock Il
was so; at ii o'clock 90 and at noon II
registered SO in the shade. The glare from
the asphalt streets blinded the eyes. Men
painted for breath and now and then one
fell. The water front and the parks were
thronged with women and children seek.
ing relief. Those who succumbed were
taken to the hospitals, but no one minded
them. Down before Santiago $4,000 men
in dingy brown canvas blue trimmed uni
forms in the blistering heat OF tropical
climate were lighting against overwhelm-
ing odds. On the day before had come
the news Of disastrous defeat, aud the
night had closed down in gloom. To-day
the defeat had been turned into a victory
and the cable had flashed home the details
of a great naval victory besides. The
great city sweltered and sweated and
waited for confirmation and for the list Of
dead.
That afternoon business called me to
the Office. For an hour l worked and
then fell to thinking OF the great tragedy
being enacted. Suddenly became aware
that someone was standing By my desk.
"Ev'nen Journal. sir? List NV dead and
wounded"
1t was Mike, but hardly recognized
the voice. All the impudence, the old
time braggadocio was gone, and he had
come in so quietly. 'Why, Mike"
began. Then noticed the trace OF tears
furrowed through the dirt on the two
grimy checks. There was an unwonted
seriousness in the deep black eyes and
an unmistakable quiver in the voice as he
repeated. "Ev'nen Journal, sir2 Extra,
jes' out 'Plete list Nv dead an wound
ed"
| snatched the paper engerly and tossed
Mike nickel. "Neyer mind the change"
! said, and plunged into the details of the
fight. When glanced up Mike was still
there.
IF yer please. sir" he began, standing
on one leg and uneasily rubbing 1t with
the dirty brown foot Of the other. "If
yer please, sir, could count yer rea'iar
AZ Po'pcA cFCkJ uiBulI WI ROt Ter
sport de family now cause 0i'm tn head
Nv 1t. He-he's dere, sir" be finished
with dry sob, pointing to the open page
before me. Glancing down the column
in heavy black, bold-faced type, saw the
name Of Private Dennis A. Murphy on
the roll Of honor with the brief, explana-
tory line, "Shot through the head"
Mike drew a step nearer. Say" he
said, with just touch Of his old-time
eagerness, "he's hero now, amt heT"
Mike has several regular customers in
the Office now, but he no longer blows In
like miniature hurricane. He comes
and goes quickly but quietly. He Is full
of business, and although his former i'm
pudence now and then flashes out 1t is In
a guarded way that win lose him no Gus
toners. He Is always ready for q scrap
when anyone intrndes upon his rights.
but he has given up fighting for the fun
Of the thing. and he no longer pitches
pennies and CANDLES away his hard-earn-
ed money. "Yer see, 0i'm de head Nv de
family now. an have ter help me mither,"
he explains.
The other day he came into the Office
with the old-time rush. They've got me
fathers body, an it's ter be buried here"
he cried. Then after a moments thought
he inquired wistfully. Say, do yer s'pose
de sogers'll march ter his grave an put 4
flag an flowers on 1t 'Morial dayT'-.
Thornton N. Burgess. in Orange Judd
Farmer.