The Bourbon news. [volume] (Paris, Ky.) 1895-19??, 1903-05-29
SYMPATHY STRIKE.
BY ANNIE HAMILTON DoxxELL.

dread He hoped Jimmie would say to-
morrow. When you didn't like to do a
thing a single speck, it helped your cour-
age to put it off.
To-day" Timothy said, firmly There
was no hint of relenting in his voice. Il
guess we're not goin' to wait till Cynthy
sta-arves, are we, Thaddeus Keith? Do
you know what she had for dinner to-day"
Mullins" murmured little Tad, shame
facedly- DRY. 'Thout any butter on"
Two" added Timothy, briefly. 'You
wouldn't like two dry, 'thout-any-butter
mullins for your dinner, would your"
''No-oh. mol" murmured little Tad.
Then there was silence Both boys were
remembering their own lunch Tad
smacked his mind lips" over the crisp
brown hermits and the little round saucer
pie-there was almost always a saucer pie
In little Tad's lunch basket. Timothy had
great, beautiful wedges of pie in his. and
you could see the plnms along the edges of
the wedge. Then Timmies doughnuts!
Tad's mouth--his mind mouth"
at the thought of them. His doughnuts
were good but Jimmie s!-Timmie and he
played swap games at dinner and ate each
others lunches sometimes.
She ate 'em both up while was settin'
my table" whispered little Tad solemnly,
remembering Cypthy's quick, hungry bites.
He was glad he had slipped two of his her
mits into her pail when she wasn't look
ing, and Jimmie had dropped in a dough
nut. Cynthy had never found out yet
where her little "windfalIs'' came from
She looked upon them with grave thank
fulness, as mama out of heaven.
Timothy had explained a sympathy
strike" to Tad lyon don't strike cause
you re abused yourself, you know, but cause
somebody else is. You do it out O. SYM
p'thy Somebody else don't get wages
enough-Cynthy don't get dinner enough
and you strike till they-tllI she does.
Then you go to work again same as ever.
All the time you're a-strkin' you re a-sayin':
< 'Tisn't us We have dinner enough in our
dinner baskets. But Cynthy hash 't--mercy,
no! You've got to give Cynthy more din
ner, with butter on, or else we don't work
for you. We've struck, me and Tad. Tad
: won't bring your mail and | won't bring
your milk But just the minute you prom
Use to put plenty of butter on Cynthy's din
ner, and plenty of dinner, then Wen go to
work like everything That's all you've
got to do" explained Timothy That's
symp'thy strike"
Cynthy was just Cynthy She may have
had another name, back in her dreary little
past, when she lived in the almshouse, but
not since she came to live with Mrs. Flint.
She was grave. unchildsh lean little
thing of ten, but she might have been 40
All the good times she could remember
were the times when the 'manna" had
fallen out of heaven into her dinner pail.
She never romped or laughed, like little
child Out of school she always worked.
Mrs. Flint lived in an ut-of-the-way place,
"half way between everything" she COM
planned. She hired little Tad for ten cents
week 70 bring her mail, and Timothy for
a quarter to bring her milk and chop her
kindlings. The only reason she did not let
oCynthy do both things and save the 35 cents
a week was because Cynthy was always do
ing something else. Timothy and Tad were
all the ''hired help she employed
At four o'clock with whoop and whis-
tie, the little Webster district school was
"out" Jimmie and Tad waited behind till
everybody else had gone home, then they
walked slowly down the sun-mottled road
Even Jimmie looked little pale, but his
resolute little jaw was set stifiy. There
: was to be no turning back now.
keep thinkin' about those mullins, Tad
die" he said, encouragingly. Keep sayin'
to yourself how dry they looked and how
they didn't have speck O butter on. If
you ever ate dry ones, 'thout any butter
.on, you'll know how to strike a symp'thy
strike all right"
''But | never" murmured little Tad, "no,
] never, Jimmie, honest"
well, | have. ] ate one a-purpose. I
know how it feels" Timothy said.
Mrs. Flint was waiting at the door, Her
crisp, sharp voice came down the lane to
meet them.
"You got letter for me to-day, didn't
you Thaddeus" she called. 'Tm expecting
one. l wish you'd hurry little faster and
bring it up here to me. I can't pay little
boys for crawling"
Timothy put his hand on little Tad's arm
and pushed him along. eco on and tell her
you've struck, can't your" he whispered
Then, at sight of the terrified little freckled
face. he took away his hand and stepped
forward himself.
Nom, he hasn't got any letter Maybe
there's one, but he hasn't got it. He's
struck, and so have [. We've both struck
We aren't goin' to work again till you give
'Cynthy more dinner"
with butter on" quavered little Tad
eagerly.
Inc hard face in the doorway regarded
both their pale little faces in utter amaze
ment. Somewhere in the background of the
dark little hall Cynthy's wondering face APP
peared as out of mist.
'You see it's "a symp'thy strike" ex-
planned Timothy hurriedly. His knees were
shaking under their frayed little corduroys.
You know what a symp'thy strike is, don't
you, ma am? Well, anyway, it's one you
strike out OF symp'thy for folks-Cynthy,
you know, when she doesn't have dinner
enough to eat. We're sorry for Cynthy and
we've struck. 'Tisn't us-we've got our
wages. We haven't got much, but we don't
feel bad enough to strike count O. that.
What we want is Cynthy to have sandwiches
and cookies and pieces O. pie and"
Butter on"
eyes, same as other folks. Well go to
work again, honest Injun, the minute you
promise to give 'em to her, ma am. Tadll
get your letter all a-fyin', and I'll chop the
lindlings. The minute. It's a symp'thy
strike, that's all"
Cynthy's small, pale face disappeared in
the gloom. She had found out where the
Heavenly mama oaua FROM aol - L,.-4