The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-08-24
fICTIONS OF THE TOWN
SAD STORY OF A FAINT-HEARTED
LOVER NAMED GEORGE.
From a Caress to Hospital by Way
of Baseball BackstOp-The
BantIins.

George had been calling on Mary about
long enough TO discover that each was con-
genial to the other. They had not as yet
reached the front-porch. moon-vine, low
voiced utterances about future life and hap
piness. One night he called. She met him
in the dimly-Iighted hall, extending both
her hands. He thought he had been going
there long enough to justify a caress, and
he did. She broke away from him with
little protracted "Ohi" that was more an
expression of pleasure than anger-so
George interpreted 1t, and he made himself
comfortable in the parlor. After Mary ex-
tricated herself from his embrace she
rushed into the living room, where her
father and brother were intently examin-
ing a new gun the latter had just pur-
chased. Mary said, Brother, George is in
there: go In and show him your new gum.
Brother, gun in hand, opened the door be-
tween the two rooms. There was a wild
rush for the window, pair of heels disap-
peared through a Jagged hole in the fy
screen, leaving a chair rocking behind.
George landed in the grassplot on his
hands and knees, and recovering him
self, jumped over the front fence and into
the street. sending the gravel in the road
way flying in the other direction as he ran.
Over another fence he went, encountering
the slight obstacle of a rose bush; on into
the back yard, over a chicken coop. dog
houses, chicken coops, ash barrels, garbage
cans, with leaps and bounds-over a five
foot fence into an alley, over another alley
fence into another mans yard-more dog
houses, chicken coops, ash abrres, garbage
street and commenced speeding through an
open common. On he ran in the dark until
finally the path in front of him blackened-
he was face to face with an eght-foot
fence. BY a desperate leap he caught the
top of 1t. pulled himself up, fell over on
the other side in a throbbing heap, and
knew no more.
Several days later he awakened. The
first sensation was of an odor of flowers.
He looked around him. The linen the
bed was Of a sick-room whiteness. Soft
hands smoothed his brow and he encoun-
tered a pair of eyes-they were Mary's
eyes.
"Can I ever reach the top of that high
fence, is he still after me?" These were
the mutterings of his delirium.
mo, dearest, you were running through
the baseball grounds and you broke your
ankle when you jumped over the back
STOP
Old man Bantlin and his wife lived on a
corner of two shady South Side streets, in
a large frame house. trimmed at the corner
boards, about the box cornice and front en-
trance with a profusion of rope molding.
Mr.. Bantlin not only owned this house but
the one next to it, the one next TO that and
so on, up to the alley: an equal amount
on the side street, together with some
! cheap houses in the rear. He first acquired
the corner and continued until he found
himself in possession of a quarter square.
Mr.. Bantlin spent the best years of his life
wearing a bed-ticking apron and scull cap
! in a little hy-specked grocery on Virginia
| avenue. But in recent years, finding the
| profits growing smaller, he sold out and
took to staying at home, spending most of
his time around the men who were con-
tinually papering, painting or otherwise re-
| pairing his houses, and telling them stories,
the scenes of which were laid when
was in the grocery business on Virginia
avenue" About twice every week he
walked up town, casually looking in at
| bank where he had safety deposit box
| to see if the printing was not faded on
| some crisp, folded papers that had many
| little perforated coupons attached. On Sun
| days he varied the nonotony by dressing
| in a long, black coat of corkscrew cloth,
with pants to match, a white shirt, stiff
| turn-down collar, a black bow tie that
| fastened to the collar button by an elastic
| loop. all of which, in contrast to his
| binary clothes, gave something of the i'm
| preston of a shroud. He spent the long
! afternoons reading the paper in a COOL
| damp place at the side of the house. where
the grass never grew or the sun ever
shone. Occasionally he walked down to
where they were building a house in the
| neighborhood, sat on trestle with a neigh
Dor and made comments, in monosyllables,
| that the joints of the brick work were a
/ little fat. the carpenters were using
| spiked headers instead of morticed and
tenanted ones. After telling the neghbor
| about something that happened when
was in the grocery business on Virginia
/ avenue" he would saunter off home, get
out the hose and wet everything on the
| surface of his possessions. After supper he
would lead out old Ned from the barn.
! harness him to a surrey. and, with himself
| in the front seat and Mrs. Bantlin, wearing
her best bonnet and gold spectacles in the
back seat, they would jog off up town.
Like his master, old Ned had passed his
| best days in the grocery business. and in
his time could make the empty baskets in
| the wagon dance high the best of gro
Gerry horses; but, like his master, he had re-
| tired and assumed many of the. old mans
| characteristics They were both finishing
the path Of life at jog trot.
About the time they crossed a car track
old Ned would stop, jerk the lines out of
| his masters hands, stamp his foot shake
his head and reach around with his nose to
remove particularly obstreperous fly Mr.
| Bantlin would make lunge over the DASH
board, recover the lines, rattle the whip in
the socket and old Ned would start with a
jump and for fully ten feet would hasten.
After much jogging, stopping. starting and
tail-swishing they arrived in due course of
time at Mr.. and Mrs. Bantlin's daugh-
| ter's. who married the head cutter of an
overall factory and who owned a new house
| out in the rag weed district of the north
east part Of town. While Mrs Bantlin
talked TO her daughter Mr.. Bantlin boo
hooed' and ''woo-hooed" the baby; took il
out TO grandpa's old Ned and took the