Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1901-02-14

Ne SToNeIN S0OOh LIS uSdG.
IF you don't mind, sir he said. 81
think you look like tramp"
! The visitor laughed-a hoarse. I'M,
musical laugh.
You're a wise lad, son., he said.
I'm tramp, all right. It's a noble
profession. The children of Israel
were tramps; the pilgrim fathers were
tramps.'
'Tramps know great deal, don't
they, sir?" said the lad. They see SO
much" He paused and looked at the
tattered man with doleful express
sion. Tramps are always poor, aren't
they, sir?" he asked.
Poverty is as natural to them as
rags, and dirt, and hunger" replied
the visitor.
Then if you don't mind again"
said the boy" I'D like to give you
this nice shining quarter that l was
going to start my new savings bank
with this morning" And he put the
bright coin in the visitors palm.
The prodigars grimy fingers closed
upon it.
"'I'lI take it as loan son." he said,
and his voice seemed to George Bick,
nell trife more husky.
Come, jamie"
The boy turned to his father.
Must l go?" he asked.
Let him stay little longer" said
the visitor, and there WIS a note of
command in the thickened tones.
''He interests me. What did I under
| stand your name to be, SOM"
"My full name is James Corydon
| Bicknell, sir"
There was a little silence.
The visitor looked up at George.
Then he glanced back at the boy.
"You look like your mother, son,
don't you?" he asked.
mo" replied the boy, grandma
always said I looked like my Uncle
Jim. He went away when he was
quite a big boy, you know, and never
came home again"
"You visited your grandma, them"
the man Of tatters asked.
'No," replied the boy; ''she came to
live with u.s. She died last year, you
know"
NO" said the visitor in a low
voice; q didn't know"
"And she used to talk a great deal
about my Uncle Jim. Papa and NAM
ma never talked about him, but
grandma always did when she and ME
was alone together. He was an aw-
full nice boy, my Uncle Jim was. You
never met him, did you, sir?"
Il can't say that ever did, son." re-
piled the visitor.
81 asked you," said the boy. cause
when I'd say to grandma, Where is
Uncle Jim tow she'd say something
about his being a wanderer on the
face Of the earth-and that's a kind O.
tramp, amt it?'
Yes said the visitor. Go on.
That's about ALL the boy respon-
ded. "Cept that when grandma fell
sick she get little queer in her head,
old folks do sometimes, you know,
and thought l was Uncle Jim when he
was little boy. And I'd sit by the
bed and she'd sing the little songs 10
me that she sang to him, and she'd
talk to me just as if [ was her little
boy, an when she fell asleep forever
an ever she had her arms around my
neck, an she shut her eyes still
thinking that she had her Jimmie boy
back again.
There was a brief silence The
visitor had sunk back in his chair and
his eyes were closed.
Come, jamie" said George Bick-
nell very softly.
yes, papa" responded the boy. He
leaned forward a little and touched
the visitors dingy knee. "Sir," he
said, wouldn't you like to see a pic
ture of my Uncle Jimmy?"
Yes said the visitor slowly, 81
think l would"
The boy looked back at his father,
and the latter nodded.
1T is this way, SIR said the boy as
he pointed to the inner door. The
visitor slowly arose and followed him.
He did not look at George Bicknell as
he passed.
Here is the picture, SIR" said the
boy as the visitor crossed the thresh-
hold into the inner room. "It was
made large from a smaller picture
See, Uncle Jim is sitting on his little
stool with his head resting on his
mothers knee and she's got her hand
on his curly hair Wasn't she a
sweet lady, and wasn't he fine boy?"
He turned as he asked the question.
why, you're not looking at it, sir
The visitors face was turned away
and one of his grimy hands was
pressed across his eyes.
The light is little strong" he fall
tered and turned to face the boy.
why, you are crying said the lad.
He looked up at the swollen feat
| ures of the tattered man with a half
scared glance. LET US go back to
papa" he said.
George BickneIl slipped away from
the door as they approached it. He
! was standing by his desk when the
visitor again faced him.
"Goodby, George" said the prodi-
gal; I've been here quite long