The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1900-06-15
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
! HIS FATHERS SON I

IlNCQ db last, Quu 4NOCA OACAAi1A
stood, a fully entered student, on the
steps of St. Paul's hospital. His faith
er's stories of the life at the old college
had fired the boys youthful ardor, and
away in the plains of India he had
vowed to be doctor, and to win a
place in the /. M. S.
And now it was as dust in his mouth,
ton he had been the pride of the Euro
pean staff, for no one could beat him
in any branch of athletics, but at St.
Pauls he was an unnoticed unit.
Presently man whom he saw at
once was a native of India, came and
stood close by his side. Moved by the
urgent need for companionship, Sher-
riff made the first advances.
II wonder if you feel as lonely as
do?" he asked.
The native turned abruptly.
"I'm from india" he replied, dark
flush sweeping over his face as he
heard muttered "Nigger" spoken by
one student to another.
$50 am II" exclaimed Sheriff.. I'm
from Amritsar, where my father is sta
toned. His name is Sheriff., and he is
colonel in the Indian medical. And
you?"
I'm a Hindoo, and my European
name is-Pamphlett. But, surely, you
won't talk to nigger!" His tone was
acrid In its bitterness, and Sheriff.
looked up in surprise.
80, come, Pamphlet" he said, eager
ly, "that's not fair. Anyway, let you
and 1 be friends"
swell, Sheriff." hesitatingly an
swered Pamphlet, "I'm queer-tem-
pered man; but let it be So"
"Then come and live at my diggings!
There's capital front and back room
above my floor, and we can read to-
gether comfortably"
''Now, look here, young man." said
Pamphlet three weeks later. "It's time
we began to read at night. Grinning at
the hospital all day won't pass our ex-
ans for us, unless we work at night,
too. We've seen all the plays, we've
visited most of the halls, and you and
have got to buckle to!"
Both men were sitting in Sheriff's
rooms smoking and discussing the
events of the day.
''Very WE'LL" lazily replied the lad,
knocking out the ashes from his pipe.
"What do you suggest?"
''Well, we ought to grind up our bones
regularly at night before working at
st. Paul's in the morning. I'm sick of
going out, aren't you?"
''I've got capital skeleton in box
upstairs" said Sheriff., laughing. 81
got it" Then he stopped abruptly, as
he caught sight of his companions look
of inquiry. "I'll go and turn the box
out. It'll save you from buying, for we
shan't want two SETS"
Box in hand, Pamphlet left the room,
and the door closed behind him. Often
now, as he drives the patient bullocks
in his paddy fields in India he sees that
lamp-lit room in his fancy, with the boy
standing by the door.
Gloomily enough he went to his sit
ting-room and lit candle, while he
opened the box, and turned the
bleached bones out with rattle on the
table.
The skull rolled toward the edge, and
he hastily placed his hand on it, and,
raising it up, gazed absently at it. Sud-
denly his face grew green, while his
pupils contracted and expanded as he
watched with a horrible fascinat ton the
shining bone. There, on the vortex,
were two deep cuts crossing each
other.
"By Sivagee!" he murmured in Hin
doostanee. my father was aeft for
dead by two such cuts.
my father has a badly set left
arm!"
Then, unwillingly, as if dragged by
an unseen power, he crept round the
arm bones. With a low cry of hor-
ror he fell half faiting into chair.
"My father left u.s." he moaned, still
in the language of his thoughts, ito
go on a pilgrimage to give thanks for
his recovery. He never returned, and
now this curse Feringhi makes a by
word and reproach of him. May every
curse light on his head!"
Salaaming almost to the ground be-
fore the table, Pamphlet gathered
the ends of the tablecloth together,
so that they covered the grim relics,
and then, lifting up the burden rev.
erently, he replaced it in the box.
Then, resting his head on his hands,
he wept silent, awful sobs.
"Pamphlett! Pamphlett!" cried
Sheriff. from below, aren't you COM
ing down? I've ordered in the cof-
fee. Come on!"
The man rose, once more salaamed
at the box, now resting on a chair,
and then slowly went downstairs.
'sBy the way, where did you get
your bones. Did you buy them?"
"Well, it's too bad of me to spin a
yarn against myself, but here goes.
About three years ago, just before my
father had decided to make me doc
tor when / was old enough, I was
walking near the great trunk road
near Amritsar. Lying in the long
grass, about 20 yards from the track,
found dead pilgrim, dried almost
to a mummy. He might have been
there for wears for all I knew as the