The Eureka sentinel. [volume] (Eureka, Nev.) 1902-current, 1903-01-24
CHE LUCK OF
BLACKBOARD
HANNIGAN

- 1ca( @81
November air had a way of nipping the
ears and nose which was not pleasant.
Hannigan was a wandering painter.
He had once been proficient as a de-
spoiler of scenery, as many Of the leg
ends which now adorn the Buckeye
landscape and proclaim the merits Of
pink pellets and condition powders will
testify. Rum had got the upper hand
Of Hannigan. His hand was no longer
steady enough to follow the c~onfgura-
ton of letters, even when they were
chalked out by steadier fingers, but
Hannigan could still paint blackboards.
There was a time when around the
walls Of every district school in south
ern Ohio there was painted a dark
dado, on which the pupils worked out
their arithmetical salvation
Mr.. Hannigan as he strobe along the
tracks was muttering to himself about
the perversity Of fortune. He had
spent nearly his last cent for material.
He had been to three schoolhouses, and
in each he had been confronted with
slabs Of smoothly polished slate which
covered the plastered wall. The agent
of a Chicago school supply company
had preceded Hannigan and had done
him much injury. At the last school
house the teacher had smiled pftyfnG1y
when the decorator talked of the edl
which had come upon him. She had
unclasped from Q long chain which she
wore a silver mounted rabbits foot and
had insisted upon the astonished paint
er's accepting it.
Now that Hannigan was alone again
his thoughts went back to the little
schoolhouse, and the more he thought
about the duplicity of the trustees and
the slate blackboards the more angry
he became. He drew from his pocket
the fuzzy fetch which the teacher bad
given him and in the half darkness con-
templated it with a look Of fine scorn.
Hannigan was walking on the railroad
track with the measured tread common
to the experienced wanderer who arails
himself of that courtesy of the compa-
ny known as the "tie pass"
Luck" muttered Hannigan. "Jim
Hannigan walking the track with not a
thing in his pocket but a rabbits foot
has a run of luck, hasn't he? Where's
that fool thing?"
Hannigan took the talisman from his
pocket and threw 1t or the track. 1t
dropped near a rail, where the CLINT
from its mounting revealed its pres
ence. Hannigan stopped as though to
pick it up again. Then he reconsid-
cred.
NO" said he; "don't want 1t; won't
have it. Let some fellow find it who
wasn't born to be unlucky."
Hannigan heard a shrill whistle and
the rumble of wheels. He stepped aside
in a mechanical way just in time to
evade a train. He stood for a moment
contemplating the two fiery eyes Of red
which were diminishing In front OF
him. Then he looked around him.
II was crossing the long trestle, and
I didn't know it." said Hannigan.
Now, by gum, that is what 1 call luck
crossing the trestle with no chance in
the world to get off it and spikes on the
sides Of the track to make it uncom-
Portable for us hoboes; crossing the
trestle, by jing! If l had jumped, l
would have been drowned in twenty
feet Of water, and If / had stayed they
would never have recognized me ex-
cept for this can Of sawdust cocktails.
Jim Hannigan, you are an ungrateful
cuss. That rabbits foot saved you, and
you threw it away. This is where you
see a crayon enlargement of Jim Han
nigan going back to find the only thing
which ever brought him luck"
He went back over the ties, lodging
the spikes, looking for the rabbits
foot. He could see no trace of it. He
glanced up in time to see two bullying
eyes Of red which were growing bigger
with every second. James Hannigan
jumped and shrieked. The Cannon
Balr' was backing down on him, and
he was in the middle Of the trestle. He
threw himself or the track. rolled over,
clasped the end Of a tie in his arms and
swung himself off just as the express
whizzed over his head. Above him was
the roar Of the train, and beneath him
the waters of the Hooking were greed
lily tapping the wooden piles.
Talk about hard luck" muttered
the trembling painter Of blackboards.
"Queered for life by a rabbits foot and
a schoolmarm's smile"
The trestle vas vibrating beneath
the weight of the train. Hannigan.
with his right arm within six inches Of
the rail over which were rushing the
wheels Of the Cannon Ball." felt a
shiver through every nerve of his body.
He yelled curses, and the rails gave
back a hooking sound. He felt the
dull pain of WEAKNESS in his arms.
Twenty feet oc water below"
moaned Hannigan, "and l can't swim!
l couldn't draw myself up. even if the
train wasn't here. Well, so long, every
body. Here is the end Of James Han
nigan, born a scenic artist, died a
bum."'
He dropped. The cold waters closed
about the form of the knight OF the
road. Then a moment of silence. and
James Hannigan awoke. He thought