The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-10-01

,be veterinary surgeon tell Moriarity, the
stable keeper in Oliver street, that there wal
no hope OF saving Jack, Patsy felt like call
ing him down.
The horse is a goner.' said the vet
'and the sooner he il put out Of his misery
the better. I'll notify the 3. p. c. A.. tc
have him shot tomorrow
Something within Patsy seened &C hMrst.
Taars filed his eyes and he felt a violent
mUeing at his heart. He knew that a terri
ble sorrow confronted him-he was going
O losc Jack.
And little wonder, indeed, that Patsy
should be sad. for ever since Patrick Multi
gan. Sr.. had been driving Jack, nigh on to
four wears, Patrick, Jr, and Jack had been
nals. The ten-year-old youngster inherited
his love for horses from the old man. All
the Muligans and the neighbors on Cherry
Hill were agreed dEkthat II on nothing
else. They could remember how the good
brothers in St. James's parochial school
used to complain about Patsy spending his
time in Moriarity's stable instead Of in class.
And many a spanking did Mrs. Mulligan
hand to her erring offspring when the re-
ports came home.
Patsy promised faithfully to keep away
from the stable during school hours, and
he lived up to the promise. All would have
gone well II Jack hadn't gone sick. and Patsy
wouldn't have landed in a police station
yesterday.
Mulligan, Sr., was sad Of heart himself
when he hitched up Jim instead OF Jack.
The thought Of losing the faithful beast he
had driven in the double truck for four
years was a pretty hard one. but he bore
up bravely and made the best OF 1t.
When Mrs. Multi an, bright and early
Yesterday morning, went to call Patsy to
get him ready for mass she found the lad
missing. Michael, the youngest Of the
brood Of seven, was asleep when Patsy
disappeared and didn't know when or
where he had gone. However, all the little
Muligans were routed put OF bed, washed
and dressed and sent on to church. As
Patsy was the earliest riser in the family
and at times was accustomed TO steal out
Of the house without announcing his de-
parture little or no concern was felt for
him.
After mass yesterday when Mulligan
went to the stable to groom the horses
he found that the door had been pried
open with a bale stick. Further inv esti-
BulNpu e dlC NLlC ArdPHChl VIZ " Y
Little Patsy, so the ~neighbors odd Multi
gan, was seen leading a horse through
Oliver street shortly after sunrise. The
description Of the animal Tailed with that
Of Jack. Mulligan was wise.
Il amt agoin' ter let 'em kill yuh, sobbed
Patsy, as he led Jack out Of the stable.
'Yuh an me is sgoin' to Central Park,
where youse kin eat grass and git better.
Well go slow, Jack, youse and me, and me
fodder says nice green grass is good for
bosses. Stick ter Patsy and I'll see yuh
trough. Oh, Jack, yuh mus'n' die"
Slowly and painfully Jack ambled be-
hind the little fellow. Jack seemed to
know that the death knell had been sounded,
and, like Patsy. he felt that there was a
fighting chance way up in the park where
the grass was green and fresh. And al
though every step sent excrloiating pains
shooting through his body Jack followed
in the wake OF his pal, who clutched at the
halter with all the strength he could muster.
The long journey along the Bowery
and Third avenue was q hard one on Jack
But he was with Patsy, and despite his
sufferings ne was nappy. His big brown
eyes beamed on HE little pal, although
the hard pavement all the way up to the
park caused him physical torture.
A mounted cop in Fifty-ninth street
saw Patsy turn into the bride path in the
park. but something told him to close his
eyes. Patsy and Jack walked slowly
along the path, green grass and %shrubbery
on either side Of them.
A hundred yards from the entrance
Patsy called a halt.
p grass looks all ter de Joy here, Jack
he told the horse, and fadder seq dot'l
fix yuh up. Pitch in, old boy, and gobble
everything in sight
But Jack couldn't eat. His head dropped
and his legs shook. The CHAMBERS mad
got in it's deadly work. Jack seemed to
know that it was all OF, but Patsy couldn't
or wouldn't be reconciled to the fact.
Fancy broughams and turnout whizzed
BY on the driveway; saddle horses cantered
along the bride path. Patsy saw them
all, and he pray ed fervently that his lack
would soon be able to trot az well az the
thoroughbreds. True, he had played
hockey from churc en-. but il was for his
Jack, and his prayer would be heard.
A drilling rain was falling, but Patsy
cared not. He led Jack across the lawn
bordering on the bride path and entreated
him TO partake Of the grass.
Iun II Or DeJJeT IN Oe mOrnlD, JACK, an
de doctor won't kill yuh," he whispered.
BE a good Teller fer yer Patsy an eat"
Jack shifted at the wet grass, but not
a mouthful would he take. While Patsy
was entreating. a mounted cop gallopinR
along the park noticed the lad and the
horse.
What are you doing there?- he asked.
,,Where'd you get that horse? Don't you
know it's agin' the rules to take horses
on the lawn"
Patsy, terrified and sad OF heart, told his
story. Jack had the CHAMBERS and was
doomed to be shot on the morrow. He
and Jack had been pals for -four years; he
heard the vet say the horse had 20 be shot.
Pop said grass was good for sick horses:
PATSY knew there was nice grass in Central
Park 80 he broke into the stable-yes, he
confessed it-and took his Jack away to get
him better.
The mounted cop took Patsy and Jack to
the Arsenal. The sergeant, who knows
horses, said il was the CHAMBERS, and he
notlied the Board Of Health and the s. p.
I. A. Two hours later an officer arrived,
Pronounced lacks case a bad one and or
dered him led out behind the stables.
Patsy meanwhile sat in the back room
Of the station house sobbing as II his little
neart would break. None OF the cors on
reserve could do anything with him. He
wanted to be with his Jack. glanders or
20 ganders. They wouldn't let him, and