The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-04-05

| get medals from the Queen. Did yer
| hear what that man said what was
| standing by Mr.. Dexter's shop? GIVE
it 'em hot be said, for the glory of
| Old England That's what he said'
| and that's what the Queen likes, and
| that's what we're going in for. Are
yer ready?'
YES" they cried.
But what am I to do" asked Little
| Make-Believe.
Your exclaimed Dot-and-carry-one,
| somewhat puzzled. "Oh, you'll open
| yer mouth and shut yer eyes and see
what Gawd'll send yer"
After when direction Dot-and-carry-
one looked warily around, to see that
no policeman was nigh to spoil his lit
tie game. and then said softly:
Forward"
The Charge of the Light Brigade
pales in comparison. Before Mike the
Pieman knew where. he was, Jimmy
| Tyler had jumped on his back anu
| pulled him down into the road, where
he lay struggling with the six or seven
young ruffians bent on carrying U the
orders of Dot-and-carry-one.
This young gentleman took no part
in the scufle. Directly Mike was down
he opened the can, took of his cap
and swept into it at least a dozen PIES
'steaming hot, with which he ran OIL as
| fast as his legs could carry him.
It was the work of a moment. Inc
great Napoleon himself could not have
executed a strategic movement more
deftly.
And almost before one could say
Jack Robinson the pies were gone
and the Jaws of Dot-and-carry-one were
devouring them.
Meantime. Little Make-Believe did
| exactly as she was told.
She opened her mouth and shut her
ewes and waited for what God would
send her.
The only movement she made for
| which she could claim originality was
to put her fingers in her ears, to shut
out the din of the battle.
The paper flag in her hand was thus
elevated above her head, and seemed
to stick out of it like a feather.
The cries which Mike uttered as he
struggled with his foes seemed to her
scarcely real; her senses were almost
entirely absorbed in eager expectation
of being able, through the Intervention
of Providence, to satisfy Saranne's
wish of a pie for supper.
The battle did not last long. Dot
and-carry-ene's proceedings had not
been unnoticed by two or three of his
followers, and be had scarcely disap-
peared round the corner before other
| unlawful hands were laid .pol Mikes
s%ucculent store.
All the rest of the regiment followed
suit, helping themselves without COM
| junction; and one, less selfish than his
comrades, seeing Little Make-Believe
standing stock still, with her mouth
wide open, popped o pie into it as he
raced past her.
The pic was too large aid the mouth
too small to be disposed Of in n bite,
and would have fallen to the ground
had not Little Nake-Believe hastily
caught it.
She had tasted it, however, and ma
ture was strong within her; nothing
in the shape of food had entered her
mouth during the long, weary day IN
til that moment; her eyes, open now,
| Cilated with gladness; greedily she
| sucked her lips with the gravy on
| them, and in a moment of thoughtless-
| ness was about to take another bite
| when the figure of Sararne rose before
her.
1t was enough. Choking back her
| hunger, she ran toward her home,
| holding the precious pie close to her
| breast.
This was the sight which Mike the
| Pieman beheld as he rose to his feet,
flushed and filed with anger.
All the other children had disap-
| peared: only Little Make-Believe was
in sight. and in her hand food unlaW-
fully begotten. After her he hobDled'
furious for revenge.
Luckily or unluckily for Little Make
Believe, his capacity for pursuit was
not of 4 high order.
He suffered from periodical attacks
of lumbago, and this was one of his
bad days"
Little Make-Believe would have got
| clear off had not Mike restored to an
other expedient in the cause of JUS
tice. He called, or rather gasped:
"Stop thief!
This cry would have been uttered
the moment he had extricated himself
from the clutches Of his foes had he
not, been proverbially short of breath,
an infrmity which, aggravated by
rage, had for the time deprived him Of
the power of speech.
/ But his c%ompulsorily slow, gait, as he
hobbled after Little Make-Believe,
brought back his wind, and with it, in
a weak state, his voice.
Twice did the summons to Iaw-abid-
ing citizens escape him, and he was
about 20 utter it for the third time
when a violent spasm in his back
doubled him up, and he vas compelled
to cling to a lamp-post for support.
Coming toward him as he was in
this position was the man who had
| addressed the children as they marched
past Thomas Dexter's shop.
In his progress this mai had brushed