Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-10-06
DENNY
By LANDS MILLS
Copyright 1891. by tue Short Story Pub. Company
 All Rights Reserved)

Copyright lseq by tue Short Story Pub. Company
 All Rights Reserved) TT HE incident was told to me years back, when was second assistant engineer with the Golden Grown Mtn- ing company, at Red Dog. At the time it raised by several notches, in my opin- ion, those rough miners with whom was so constantly associated; and In later years I have often recalled it when the course of events has brought me face to face with the hypocrisy of large city.
 It was told me the eve before St. Pat rick's day for remember having start ed for ball given by the Irish element. The night was clear and cold, but the wind was so sharp that was chilled through, and stopped at the Travellers Rest for warming glass of stimulant
 I pushed open the door-the old bill- 1et-scarred door, with it's heavy hingeE-- and entered the bar'room. The uss1al crowd was not in evidence, and of ihe five occupants, four were in the act of taking their departure. They carried their shovels with them and as they passed me and went out on the windy street they wished me a ood.evening. The door closed behind them, and was left alone with Parson Sam.
 I walked to the big stove, and willie warming my hands asked if the beys were going to work that night.
 Sam pulled at his pipe, and repiiad: sNo."
 I remarked the fact that they Lad their shovels with them, and asked for what use they were intended Sam took the pipe from his mouth, exIsec- torated in the direction of the base of the bar, and replied: "GoiD' to give Denny an airin'''
 "And what Is the matter. with Dcrny.a and where is he?'' asked
 Nothin' at present" he replied; ''he's in the cemetery on the hill"
 'Dead?" asked
 "Yes," he replied.
 "And who was Denny?"
 A look of surprise came over his face as he asked: 'sYGu haven't heard of Denny, Mir .Hopkins?" and then, after a moments pause, he added: Well, maybe that ain't so strange, after all. You've only been in Red Dog some six or eight months, and Denny died just five years ago. comin' tomorrow"
 "And why do they remember him so well now?" asked.
 Sam removed his arm from the. back of his chair, rested his elbows on his knees, and gazing through the open door of the stove at the fiickering flames told mo the story of Denny.
 "You see. Denny was sorter mild like awfully gentle and quiet spoken, you know, so the boys didn't pay much at tention to him, 'cept when they were in bad humor and wanted soms one .t take it out on.I He took it all in quie' good-natured sort of way, never thinkir of hittin' back, so we all thought h didn't have no sand. Atleast that's wha we thought until that St. Patrtck's day about which I'm tellin' you. There was good deal of drinkin goin' on the night before, and four patriotic Irishmen kept 1t up until they were regular blind. They we're a sorry lot when they showed up for work the next day. and the boss gave them a regular raking down.
 "That mornin' was the first time I ever saw Denny show any temper. He was mad clear through at the thought of workin' on St. Patrick's day, and re- fused to take his pick out of the tool shed. When the boss ccmes up to him, and asks what's The matter, Denny just points to the green rib bon pinned on the front of his shirt, and says: It's St. Patricp's day, and don't work
 "Any other man would have been given his walkin' papers as quick as shootin' but somehow or other, the boss always made an allowance for Denny.
 "But we can't stop work, Denny he says.
 Denny stood sort of stubborn-1ike, and replied: Well, you oughter have some sort of celebration, or, at least, run up a green flag over the office
 ''The boss was for humorin' him, and says: And we are goin' to ceIa- brate. At ten o'clock wH be a-goin' to fire of blast, in honor of old St Pat, that will blow all the snakes or:t If Ireland
 At ten? says Denny.
 "sYes. at ten,' replies the boss.
 'SThat sort of satisfied him. With out another word he grabbed his pick, and went after the boys. a-singin some Irish song
 The boss wasn't jolkin', for just about the time he said. he called ali