The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1902-05-30
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settled parts of New England, with
gates like long, white arms, which
swing up and down to warn the public
of danger. The railroad was suburb
an route, short, busy, bustling line
that sent out 40 trains day over a
circuit of 16 miles. 1t ran by dozen
little stations, each representing a
pretty suburb with homes as happy as
can be found in the country. The sub
urb of which we speak bore the beau
tiful name of Sunshine.
The arms of the gates were raised
high in the air, pointing steadily,
straight to the skies. No train was
expected for IS minutes. The gate ten
der had gone into the gate house and
sat down alone; he was not allowed to
entertain company in the gate house,
and he looked enviously across the
track at some men who were hanging
about the grocery; he would have liked
to hear the story they were laughing
at, but a gate tender cannot be frivo-
lous.
These men were leaning against the
wall-two customers and the depot
cab driver. One of the customers was
hugging an impressive order of salt
pork and sugar and kerosene to his
breast. The other was affectionately
cherishing a paper package of butter.
One man was lounging on the steps.
He sprawled at full length. He had
his hat over his eyes for the May sun
was hot. He was smoking. He usual
ly was. 1t could not be said that he
was usually doing anything else, un-
less, perhaps, he were occupied in
getting drunk. He was marked man
in Sunshine-an idle fellow in a busy
place, a scapegrace in decorous COM
munity.
what did those plaguy railroad
commissioners do about grade cross
ings?"
One of the customers (the butter
customer) put this question in heav-
lily injured tone.
"They recommended 'em," replied
the sugar and salt pork customer,
soothingly.
They'd better!" snarled the butter
customer.
We've only killed II folks come next
july" urged the cab driver, cheerfully.
Fourteen" said the man on the step.
He did not remove his pipe from his
mouth, and his tone was muff1ed ac-
cordingly.
"Well," said the first customer, "Tim
knows. He picked up the pieces of
most of 'em. My buffers busted" add
ed the speaker, gloomily. "It's runnin'
up my sleeve. 1 give 25 cents pound
for it, tool"
Tim laughed. He was always ready
to laugh. He had the merry, cordial
nature common to some children and
many drunkards, and the curly hair
that often goes with it.
Nobody's Tim was one of the ruins
of the great civil war; the remains of
what had once been brave and splen-
did fellow. He was one of the men who
had done fine deeds in war, that flashed
out the best of his character, and then
had been beaten in peace by the worst.
There was, indeed, story about a
wound at Gettysburg, and Tim used to
say that something was wrong with
his heart when he tried to work. But
Tins aches and ails.
There's the colonel" said the cab
driver, suddenly, comm down the
boulevard with his auto-go-but-don't.
I can't say when I've seensthe colonel
come home so early. Say, Tim, there's
your colonel. Do set up, can't YEP"
But Nobody's Tim was already on
his feet. He had seen the colonel be-
fore any one else had. Who knew
whst Nobody's Tim did not see under
shelter of that old brown felt hat?
Tim stood silently. He followed the
automobile with his sad and sunken
eyes. The colonel's wife was riding
with him-a young wife. He had not
been married many years.
The automobile dashed up and
rushed by. Tim stood at attention. He
Strengthened his shoulders. Drink and
poverty and misery and sickness and
advancing age had never quite taken
the military look out of Tins figure.
He jammed the old brown felt hat
into position on his head. All that
was soldierly in the loafer awakened
at sight of his colonel. AS the carriage
pulled by, Nobedy's Tim saluted re-
spectfully.
The colonel, glancing under his
wife's lace sunshade, saluted the
drunkard gravely in return. After
ward he was glad to remember that
he had done this.
Nobody's Tim flushed with joy at
the recognition, but he did not speak.
If any one had noticed, there was a
CULVER in the mans lips. As he stood
smoking he began to hum below his
breath:
mine eyes have seen the glory Of the COM
ing of the Lord,'
A little girl tried to stand still while
the nurse was getting her white arms
into pink sleeves. This was q diff
cult procedure-no one could under