Connecticut western news., 1902-02-13
A 1 ~
 Brennan'S DO 1SS Bly,.
 NlU Ceceily Allen
Copyright, 1901, by
 A. s. Richardson.

O+-cSssCfC4-C-fO-t-S1C C-f-0f&c>Sf%cSfCSt-CtO The entire neighborhood had long since decided that Mrs. Brennan's youngest hopeful would close his earth ly career through the unwelcome at tentions of the proverbial hangman. Maggie Brennan, aged fifteen, was popular employee at Johnson's cigar factory. Young Dan was a district 1 messenger boy, and even little Jennie earned odd pennies by caring for the neighbors' children when the latter were called away to christenings, fu- nerals and weddings.
 But from the day that the Kid" at the tender age of nine months, had l fallen from the fire escape to the area way, striking three clotheslines en route, and had sat up, bowling vigor- ously, but unhurt, his young life had l been marked by a succession of stir ring and nerve distracting events. Even his good natured Irish mother had begun to regard him as hopeless, and his one friend was pretty Mics Harris, whose pink and blue shirt waists and daintily embroidered skirts decorated the Brennan clothes horse each ironing day. Meta Harris always declared that the Kid" was particu- larly intelligent and some day would perform a great deed.
 On this afternoon the Kid" having reached the age of three and having acquired sufficient wisdom to snatch a stick of ncorice from a weaker and 1 Tnlo fa In ha hod wandered far from home.
 An overdose of licorice on this hot, sultry day had affected the Kid" as nothing had ever done before. He yearned for the narrow, dim court and the towering tenement to say nothing of drink and his mothers restful bosom. But all around him was mud, the thick, yellow mud of a newly open ed street, and beyond disgustingly new cottages painted in aesthetic tints and surrounded by gardens laid out in geometrical flower and lawn patterns that is, all were thus laid out save one. It was overgrown with weeds, which had choked out the flowers planted there early in the spring.
 A young man in a natty flannel suit had paused at the gate and was sur veying with a clouded brow the scene of desolation. It hardly seemed pos sible that just four months previous he and she had planted those flowers, coming up each evening to water them, pick out the weeds and put finishing touches within doors.
 The parlor furniture had been put ip place. Even some of the shining tin ware had found Its way to the small pantry when the quarrel came.
 He had done his best to smooth over the difficulty, but finally one afternoon he had walked over to the little cot tage, which represented his savings of two hard years, closed and barred the windows and doors and with a heavy heart had walked out through the small gate. Never again had he been near the burial ground of his high hopes until this evening. Vaguely he had felt lately that something ought to be done With the place.
 The frown deepened as he turned away and marched resolutely down the street. He would see a real estate man at once &nd offer the place at my sacrifice. Then hr'J try h.s luck in South America. The rGpers all snid there were great openings down there for clever fellows from the States.
 Mamma! Ma"-
 Jack Griswold stopped communing with the disagreeable past and stared down upon bedraggled, forlorn bit of humanity.
 Hello, old chap! Are you black or white?"
 The "old chnp'' resented the familiar address. fell to weeping lustily and rolled disconsolately in the soft mud.
 "Oh, I say" exclaimed Jack, bend. ing over the little fellow. you mustn't do that! You'll be a sight. Guess you're lost"
 Griswold glanced helplessly at the neat cottages and then at the child of the slums. How ever did the youngster get way out here? And his sobs were actually pitiful. Jack thought of Q policeman. but such officials were sel- dom needed in this quiet neighborhood
 Finally pity overcame discretion. and Jack grasped q small hand and led the runaway toward the cottage over ' which he had but lately been gloating ln misery. lie unlOckeQ the uoOr AnC led the culprit to the kitchen. turned on the water and awkwardly washed the astonished denizen of Diggle's court.
 There! When get few layers of dirt off I'll take you to the nearest DO lice station, and they can locate your ma. But I'll be hanged If I'd drag such a connecting link as you were through the streets"
 A fresh handkerchief was sacrificed on the altar of cleanliness, and then Griswold started toward the door with his unexpected charge. But here an other surprise was in store for him The skies were overcast, and lightning was playing along the horizon. There was nothing to do but wait till the storm passed by.
 Griswoid sank into a rocker in the tiny parlor, and "Mis' Brennan's Kid' clambered familiarly upon his knee The afternoon was sultry, the little head sank lower and lower on Gris + wolds immaculate flannel suit, and soon a soft, even breathing filled the quiet room.
 The storm gathered and burst bul