Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1905-04-27
DENNY
By Lands MILLS
Copyright, 1891, by the Short Story Pub. &c
All Rights Reserved.)


r HE incident was told to me years
| back, when / was second assistant
engineer with the Golden Crown Min
ing company, at Red Dog. At the time
it raised by several notches, in my opin-
ion. those rough miners with whom l
was so constantly associated; and in
later years have often recalled it when
the course of events has brought me
face to face with the hypocrisy of a
large city.
It was told me the eve before st. Pat
Fick's day, for remember having start
ed for a 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 bull
let-scarred door, with its heavy hinges
and entered the bar-room. The usual
crowd was not in evidence, ard OF the
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 good evening
The door closed behind them, and ! was
left alone with Parson Sam.
l walked to the big stove, and while
warming my hands asked II the boys
we're going to work that night.
Sam pulled at his pipe, and replied:
mo"
remarked the fact that they had
their shovels with them, and asked for
what use they were intended. Sam
took the pipe from his mouth, expec-
torated in the direction of the base OF
the bar, and replied: Coin to give
Denny an aiFin'."
"And what is the matter with Denny,
and where is he?" l asked.
'Nothin' at present" he replied;
she's in the cemetery on the hill"
'Dead?" I asked.
eyes" he replied.
"And who was Denny?"
A look of surprise came over his face
as he asked: "You haven't heard OF
Denny. Mr.. Hopkins?" and then, after
a moments pause, he added: well,
maybe that amt so strange, after all.
You've only been in Red Dog some
six or eight months, and Denny died
Just five years ago, comm tomorrow.
"And why do they remember him so
we'll 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 Pickering flames,
told me 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 some one 20
take it out on. He took 1t all in quiet,
good-natured sort of way, never thiHkin'
of hittin' back, so we all thought he
didn't have no sand Atleast that's what
we thought until that st. Patrick's day
about which I'm tellin' you.
"There was a good deal Of drinkin'
goin' on the night before, and four
patriotic Irishmen kept it up until they
were regular blind. They were sorry
lot when they showed up for work the
next day, and the boss gave them
regular raking down.
"That mornin' was the first time
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 comes 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. Patricks day, and
! don't work
"Aur other man would have been
given IFS waikin' papers as quick ss
shoouR but somehow or ether, the
boss always made an allowance for
Denny.
".But we can't stop work, Denny
he says.
Denny stood sort of stubborn-like,
and replied: We'll, you oughter have
some sort of celebration, or. at least,