Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1901-08-25
CHAPTER XXI.


Tired Jim?'
mo. miss"
But you must be; put on your jack
ct and sit down again, want you to
talk to me-"
Il amt no case at talkin', miss" the
boy answered, with laugh. Il was
inst a-thinking abart wot's i'm the pi-
pers. They've had a grand dy fer
opernin' that there bridge. haven't
they7 I'VE seen it ever since they put
the piles in the water. Now, that S
the sort of thing as would mike a pic
ture."
You mean the Lower Bridge, jim?
Yes. I've seen 1t. 1t is very grand
probably the hadsonest structnre OF us
sort In the world. Are you Rining for
London again, my boy?
"No, miss; it's a jolly sight better
darn here among the flowers. The
ereenarse is Nike Cuvvint Gapdln, wifi
art no cops to move yer on. But, you
know, it's Hike this; every seventh l
cut out the bits in the diy pipers for
Mr.. Osborne, what he's marked with
his blue pecl, and there's bin a lot
abort the Bridge what I've seen
a-growin, up Hike bioy. l wonder Ell
them Anarchists they talks abart Wus
on the job?"
"I hope not, jim; we shan know to
morrow; perhaps es14eir. That young
gentleman whose sister was kind to
yos, has gone to town; we may get
mans from him. haven't seen him or
hts. SISTER for two or three days past.
Ewt he may come up tonight and tell
us"
"Thak there F'renchrnan--
"Munsfeur Darand, you should say,
nm. He.ais Mr.. Osborne's guest, re-
member"
'.well, ffim-Mouiseer Durand-he's
interested too abart the Bridge and the
Anarchist scare. He'll like to know.
snaf stan up and pull my jacket OF
miss? Are-you agoin' to do any more
at, the picture?"
oNo, the lights gone, Jim. Come
and tell me how you like it.
The boy hunched his shoulders and
eAood before the canvas without an
swerfng.
'You don't Ike it,"
mo offence. MISS; but It don't seem
like a pictureIts just like life, and
notnin' else You'll excuse me givin'
Utrite tn, won't yer? Now the
other[that there with the little gal in
It, is somethin' like. 1t nd do fer
aImernaek. it would strite-no cod,
and with this high encomium on the
latter work, the self-elected art critic
thrust his hands in his pockets, and
gazed at the little maiden approvingly.
What makes you do them sort OF
thingsY' he inquired, pointing a scorn-
full thumb at his own pictured efhgy.
"rtwas a bully sight prettier afore you
made the uipper so much like me-.
Il want thepicture to tell tale, Jim;
tust the tale Of a London'boy's hard life,
and don't mind It's not being pretty.
swell, no one wants 10 hear them
sort of tales, I should think" replied
the boy. Miss, is it true? Don't be
darn on me fer arstin', but is it true
what they say?"
what DO they say, Jim; that's the
question:"
THAT you-you-ain't happy, and
that you-you does it out of-out Of
You know what I mean; just to kill
trouble like"
"who says 1 am unhappy. Jim; and
In what way do they mean?'
The boy ooloured and figeted 4
haxen& got their SIDE" he answered,
vaguely, and I can't remember all
their blooming Jaw; but l should say
that TT It's true-and anyone calling
n4sserf a gent could-could put upon
you, ana carry--carry on with YOU
should say he wasn't the toff took him
forzst7 al"
The painter had returned to her ease