The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1902-07-26

Down on Bloom Street is much dirt
and some happiness-mOreo of the lat
ter, perhaps, than the ne1ghborhood
seems to warrant. For on Bloom
Street in one short block seven sa-
looms and vinegar factory unite to
faint the air, at one end lies mesh
Of railway tracks, while just beyond
runs Jones' Falls, turbulent with gray
water The houses, whose lower
rooms are costly situate below the
sidewalk, contrive to drain the cutters
instead of being drained by them. The
passing trains sift veil of cinders
over ALL
Yet time was when Michael Hag-
gerty lived very happily there. You
might see him, stumping on MIS-
wooden leg in and out of his watch
box all day long, to warn the tratf1c
with his dingy flag of some approach
ing engine He lived a sooty, hard
existence, did Michael Haggerty;
every night found the little bunk In
his watch-box more welcome to him.
Had it not been for Jimmy he would
VOW
and become that which he most dread
ed, and to which all his tendencies
led-a waif, idle, useless, an animal
without will. But Jimmy was to be
fine man some day, and for that 1t
was necessary that he, Michael Hag-
gerty should flag a crossing, If not to
the end of all time at least nearly that
long-till the pale, little lad should be
old enough to feel his fathers hope
as his own, and to make fight for 1t.
A short time he had every day in
which to strengthen his purpose. That
was when Jimmy, tiny, squalid fig
ure, with tin pail, brought the
father his lunch. All regulations
forbade that Jimmy should stay, but
that was what he did, The father
would take him on one knee, and the
bucket on the other, and talk, -four
lshing his wedge Of bread meanwhile
In energetic explanation.
"Jim," he would say, 'I'm gettin'
old''-that was the regular COM
mencement of their chat.
mo, pa" little Jimmy used to an
swer bravely, smuggling a curly head
against the rough shoulder. And then
old Michael would lead on into tell
Ing what an honest, true man he
wanted Jimmy to be, and how some
day he might come to such high
position as the great president of the
road, and Jimmy would answer back
how he didn't like to play with Mic
Finney or any O. those boys down the
street. And old Michael would point
longingly to the slant of streets up
on the other side Of the Falls, with
the great brown spire in the midst,
and then-"Boy," he would say, bit
terly, "the jaiIs right near on this
side"
The lad wondered why his pas
face grew so stern when he said that.
But he was only eight years old, and
knew so few things. Then a train
would come along, and the father
stumped out with his flag, and the
little boy trudged the half block
back to where he boarded with
Jolly, much -be-childered Irish family.
For some complication of causes
once in while freight wasn't moved
so much, and old Michael got off for
half day. In suit Of rusty black
he would go to fetch Jimmy, and the
two in perfect understanding strolled
off to the park together.
One of these happy times when
Michael looked into the crowded
front room Of the house on Bloom
Street, some one else sat there besides
Jimmy and the Irish family. Her
back lay towards him, but he knew
her at once, and felt strange, dizzy
faintness bout the heart. No need