Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1901-11-18


Patch. 1t was not real cabbage
patch, but queer neighborhood
where ramshackle cottages played
hop-scotch over the railroad tracks.
The Wigs family consisted of Mrs.
Wigs and five children. The boys
were named Jim and Billy, but,it was
Mrs Wiggs's boast that her three lit
tie girls had geography names. First
came Asia, then Australia. When the
last baby arrived, and Billy stood look
ing down at the small bundle, he
asked anxiously: care you goin' to
have it for boy or a girl, MAJ" Mrs.
Mrs. Wigs had answered.: "a girl,
Billy, and her name is Europena"
Hard work and strict economy were
necessary in the little household. Mrs.
Wiggs took in washing, jim worked
at the factory, and the others helped
as best they could.
The direct road to fortune, however,
according to Billy's ideas, could best
be travelled in kindling wagon, and
while he was the proud possessor of a
broken-down wagon, sole relic OF the
late Mr.. WigGs, he had nothing to
hitch to 1t. Scarcely a week passed
that he did not agitate the question,
and as Mrs. Wigs often said:
when Billy Wigs done set his
head to thing he's as good as got it."
Consequently she was not surprised
when he rushed breathlessly into the
kitchen one evening about supper
time, and exclaimed in excited tones
MA, I've got a horse! He was
havin' fit on the commons, an they
was goin' to shoot him, an asst the
man to give him to me-"
MY land, Billy! what do you want
with fit horse" asked his mother.
"Cause L knowed you could cure
him. The man said If I took him I'd
have to pay for cartin' away his car
cass, but 1 said all right, I'll take him
anyway. Come on, ma, an see him."
And Billy hurried back to his new pos
session.
Mrs Wiggs pinned Il shawl over her
head and ran across the commons. A
group Of men stood about the writh-
ing animal, but the late owner had de-
parted.
Hes most gone" said one of the
men as she came up. Il tole Billy
you'd beat him fer takin' that ole nag
often the mans hans"
"Well, 1 won't" said Mrs. Wigs,
stoutly. BILLY Wiggs's got more sense
than most men l know. That hoss's
carcass is worth somethin'. 1 'spect
he'd bring bout 50 dead an mebbe
more livin'. Anyway, I'm going TO
save him If there's any save to him."
She stood with her arms on her hips
and critically surveyed her patient.
"Ill tell you what's the matter with
him." was her final diagnosis; "his
lights is riz. Bill, I'm gon' home fer
some medicine. You set on his head
SOS he can't get up, an mall be right
back in q minute"
The crowd which had collected to
see the horse shot began to disperse,
for it was supper time, and there was
nothing to see now but the poor suf-
fering horse with Billy Wigs patient
ly sitting on his head.
When Mrs. Wiggs returned she car
ried a bottle and what appeared to be
a large marble. "This here is calo.
mel pill" she explained. II jes' rolled
the calomel in with some soft light
bread. Now you prop his jaw open
with little stick, an I'll shove it in:
then hole his head back, while I pour
down some water an turlientine outen
this bottle"
1t was with great difficulty that this
was accomplished, for the old horse
had evidently seen a vision Of the
happy hunting ground, and was loath
to return to the sordid earth. His
limbs were already stiffening in death.
and only the whites of his eyes were
visible. Mrs. Wiggs noted these dis
courGging symptoms, and saw that
violent measures We're necessary.
"Gether some sticks an build a fire
! quick as you kin. I've got to run over
home. Build it right up clost to him,
Billy; we've got to git him het up"
She rushed into the kitchen, and
taking several cakes OF tallow from
inc SueIl, Threw tnem lnt0 TIN buck
ct. Then she hesitated for a moment.
The Kettle of soup was steaming away
on the stove, ready for supper. Mrs.
Wigs did not believe in sacrificing
the present need to the future COM
fort. She threw in liberal portion Of
pepper, and seizing the kettle in one
hand and the bucket Of tallow in the
other. staggered back to the bonfire.
'Now, Billy" she commanded, put
this bucket OF tallow down there in
the hottest part Of the fire. Look out,
don't tip it-there! Now you come
here an help me pour this soup into
I the bottle. I'm goin' to git that ole
hoss so het UP he'll think he's havin'
, sunstroke. Seems eerter bad to