The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1902-05-31

For some time the child was unable to
account for his uncle's unC ontrollable
fits Of passion, but as he grew older he
began to perceive the reason why his
uncle and aunt quarreled so frequently
and so fiercely-why they declared they
hated each other-thait they wished
one another dead. Both were drunk
ards.
Uncle Joe was in the habit of spend
ing the greater part of the weeks
wages in the public house, and his slat-
ternly wife was very little better in
this respect Alas, poor Rody was the
chief sufferer, for he came in for blows
from both parties. Often when Aunt
Ellen feared to vent her angry passion
on her husband, the child proved
convenient object on which to revenge
herself. So. too, on the other hand,
Uncle Joe relieved his feelings by beat
ing the poor child.
Very soon Rody'S dimpled cheeks lost
their roses, and a hunted, hungry look
stole into his great dark eyes. For
hours together he sat with his little
face pressed against the dirt besmeared
window, his little heart breaking for
one word of love or pity. Things did
not improve with time in Uncle JOe's
dwelling. Each year greater number
he longer more and more to get away
from his inhuman protectors.
One dark winter night, when the
child had been maltreated more severe
ly than usual, he fed from his wretched
home TO return no more. Alone, hum
CRY and miserable. Rody started to exc
out precarious existence. Poor little
mite. He faced the world with d
drawer heart than many man. yet
what a sickening feeling of despair Of
ten took possession of him as he stood
at nightfall at the corner of some de-
serted street, bundle of unsold Even
ing Telegraphs under his arm and not
a penny to call his own. Everywhere
around him was food, money and
warmth. but only cold and hunger
We're his portion. But what had this
small waif done? OF what crime was
he guilty that he should gaze with
famished eyes at the good things of
this world and yet never taste of them
no, were he slowly dying of hunger.
Poor little Rody! He had injured no
one, done no evil but he was poor
wretchedly poor, and therefore, pass
ers-by thought. if they thought at all,
that it was meetfi that it was natural,
that he should suffer.
Rody did not seek pity or wall out in
distress. He bore his privationS with
a mute callousness which might have
shamed many stronger soul. He beat
his colo, mud besmeared feet against
the wet pavement when they were cold,
and contented himself with gazing in
at savory dishes in cook shop windows
when adverse fortune had left him sup
PEERLESS. But there was something
which grieved Rody even more than
cold and want, and that was the long,
ing of his soul to love and be loved.
Even when he had been unusually
lucky in the sale of his papers, orDame
Fortune had bestowed one whole shfl-
ling on him as his own, the child felt
that vague feeling of loneliness which
he could never have explained. Per-
haps it was this emotion which made
him cling to The sweet memory of his
mother, and perhaps, too, it was the
thought of her which kept him so long
from sin
But the boy was human-intensely
human; he did not pray; in fact, he
had forgotten. God and prayer, and
when the poor, as we all know, become
unmindful of their Father in heaven,
or learn to regard him in far-on,
shadowy way, they find it very hard,
indeed, in their wants and sorrows TO
keep to the right path. Rody was not
an exception to this rule. He often felt
it would be much more profitable TO
cheat or steal than be honest, much
easier to lie than speak the truth, put,
then, there was no one to care particu-
larly, thought, what he did; it was
all the same whether he was good
or bad, and the fact of being upright
had only left him destitute. sa
Such was the train of Rody's
thoughts one cold winter evening as he
stood at Grafton street corner with a
few unsold Evening Telesraphs' in his
hand.
Little use I've for trying to live he
muttered between his chattering teeth.
Every one can have something but
me- I'm the worst off of the whole of
them and Rody wiped away the un-
hidden tears that were trickling down
his cheeks with the sleeve of his tat
tered coat.
Come, my boy, get on, now. You
side. Rody raised his clear, honest
eyes to the speaker and then fed in
terror, for the street arab generally re-
CARDS the Bobby in blue" as his nat
ural enemy. When he had reached the
end of the street, and not till then, he
stopped.
Poor little mite, his head was throb
bling madly, and his frame shook with
a hacking cough. A few yards from
him was a gay toy shop, surrounding
by laughing children. Rody. relieved
from his fear, watched them. They
all looked so happy, he bought. He
alone was miserable Suddnely bright
shilling rolled towards him. He gazed
at it longingly. He knew it belonged
to one of those merry boys who were
eagerly discussing the merits of a pop
gun. They had plenty. he was starV-
ing and ill., Besides, no one was look
ing He could easily take it. He
stopped down, picked up the money
and then ran as if for his very life.
But he had been seen, and six pairs of
legs followd in swift pursuit, and shrill
voices yelled: Stop theft Stop thiefl'
Rody heard them and knew that he
was followed. He strained every nerve,
every muscle, to keep ahead of his pur-
suers. He darted down one street, now
ran through one lane, now through an
other, until hefell exhausted in a dark
gateway. his brain swimming and the
cry of stop thief" still ringing in his
ears AS he raised his hand to his
throbbing forehead he felt it wet with
warm blood. A thousand lights, he
thought. danced before his eyes, while
stop tLief! Stop thief" seemed to be
echoed and re-echoed by the shrill win
ter wind. Although Rody pressed his
little hands against his ears to deanen
the sound, yet the weird cry still went
on, only growing louder each minute,
until it culminated in one long. wild
shrek, and then-Rody knew no more.
Some hours later some workmen who
were passing found huddled up,
senseless little figure in 1.-THE gateway.
They brought the child to the hospital
close by. There gentle nuns laid him in
a neat white cot to fight the battle eb-
tween death and life. When Rody
spoke again only wild, incoherent
words escaped his lips. There was a
strange, unearthly lustre in his blue
ewes Tis male cheeks were flushed like