Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1904-12-17
GAVE HIM A SURPRISE

a few afternoons ago pretty little boy
of the ANNA s blessed angel type leaned
against the front gate of 10th street DOM
icie
He was busily engaged in minding his
own business.
He wore pretty knickerbockers and pref
ty hose and pretty buttoned shoes. A
pretty belted ulster hung jauntiiy over his
little frame. On his head was a perfectly
lovely Tam oShanter.
The boy was slender and not rugged look
ing. He didn't wear spectacies. as the lit
tie Ralph Waldo Emersons of his type SO
often do. but his watery blue eyes looked
weak. His pale. yeliowish hair hung to his
sian moujilx-wise.
The boy. as observed above, was just
leaning against the front gate of his home,
attending exclusively to his own business.
Along came a tough little boy, diked out
in exceedingly bum clothing and with a
bad twinkle in his eye
Inc tough boy was couple Of years old
er. apparently, than the pretty little blessed
angel boy, and bigger by considerable. He
stopped when he got up to the pretty boy.
and regarded the latter with a saturnine
grin.
Say" he eventually remarked to the boy
v
you go in an lay down. before you break
some o them toys. Archer"
me pretty boy didn't even turn his head
70 regard the tough boy He looked
straight before him and appeared to be
more intent than ever in his effort to mind
his own business
Say. eff l had all O. them duds on" went
on the tough boy. seating himself com
fortably on stepping stone across the
pavement. II wouldn't do a ting but give
me ffenS pink tea
me nee little boy however. didn't seem
70 ieaf' lie looked up and down the
street. with vague question in his gaze
Say. amt We 'fraid o. somethin' comm
ioose? inquired the tough boy. after a
pause picking UP some loose icicles and
tossing them experimentaiiy at the nice
little boys feet
However the boy with the nice raiment
obviously had too much to think about to
take any notice.
'i'r mudder chops y'r hair wit a ak.
don't she?' inquired the urchin, throwing
a heavlef Piece OF ice at the others right
shoe and hitting the mark.
cut that QUIT" said the nice little how
NOT so much as glancing at the otner
mere was no anger in his tone II was as
uulet ana matter-of-fact as could be- stop
sort of way - e
Stop IT, hey?' said the urcb9n. taunt
InslS; Who's goin t make me stop it.
reggie! Wot yr goin' t do bout to, and
his mark '7''h ie'cheo
me NICE little boy stretched his arms
ana then strolled over to the curb where
enngly ""e IN edt-
Il think" remarked the nice little how
sucking his milk-white chin within ahont
. .Wo mches of the urchn's grfmy face.
that you'd better take a walk"
The establishment of the tough hoy u,as
50 great that he had difficulty in r.io,1,+
ing for moment.
no, me?" he gasped, his fists clinch-
ing ing, Me walk? Walk Were? Say. petite.
how would youse like t have me hama va
rev swif' pokes. jes' FIR luck. hey?"
Il wouldn't like it little bit" responded
the nice little boy. You can't do it. anv
way. I'd break your face first You'd bet
Ter go on. I'm not bothering you'
Break my face. hey?" yelled the toueb
boy, stepping back, and his practiced fist
shot out straight for the pretty bows law
=, However, the pretty boys jaw wasn't
there '.
It's sin and a shame to DESTROY all of
these illusions that the comic weekly fun
hylSts nave labored SO earnestly to build I'D
Inc funny1sts. for example. invariably
portray the grimy gamin as hopping up
the pavement with the Little Lord Fauntle-
roy. But facts are facts. and they've got
to prevail, even if the most cherished ideals
are shattered in the process
me nice little boys jaw. as stated, wasn't
bolted for it. Instead, he struck the atti-
tude of miniature Battling Nelson or
Jimmie Britt. and then he deposited a
mighty slick 1eft-hand corkscrew punch on
the wind of the astonished tough boy
Before the latter could quite grasp the
situation he felt the impact of a very
steamy right square on the point of his
jaw, and before the entire meaning Of this
had soaked into his system he caught a left
hook on the right eye that laid him out fiat
on the asphalt. Then the nice little boy
stood over him, fixing his bow necktie with
one hand.
81 told you you'd better take walk"
he remarked in low. PARKWAY tone Got
enough?'
The tough boy scrambled to his feet
feeling of his eye. and gazed visit
fully at the nice little hoy. He looked to be
on the verge of tears. Then he turned
around and went his way. murmuring II
got mine all right. This is wot butt into
f'r goin out o me ella
The nice little boy watched the retreat ting
figure of the tough boy until the latter
was out of sight around the corner.
Then he entered the 18th street house.
climbed up to the big spare room on The top
floor, stripped to the waist. and took his
daily boxing lesson, his instructor being
his big, fine-looking. young uncle, who is
known as one of the best amateur boxers
in the District of Columbia.