The Democratic advocate., 1907-08-09
Seleet STORY.
RASCALS' ARISTOCRACY.

"The sentence of the court is, said
Judge Bucklilam, "that you be confined
in the State prison at San Quentin for the
term of two years.
A modest flush, born Of the pride he
could not entirely conceal, passed over the
face of the youth in the prisoner dock.
"San Quentin-and only eighteen" was
his glad, unspoken thought. The boys
beside him-there were three of them
stroye to look composed and Indifferent,
as boys will under the circumstances, but
their envy, tempered by friendship as it
was, was clearly apparent. Each of them
had his secret hopes, and each had
been disappointed. And Jimmy Picklock
had, without merit that they could see,
gained the coveted prize. Only the house
of correction awaited them, an institution
whose diplomacy was shame rather than
an honor, since it stamped them as mere
tyros in the gallant calling Of theft
Jimmy went down stairs scarcely feeling
his chains. He strove to appear modest,
not to manifest Extensively his recognized
superiority over his companions, but he was
none the less exuberant in spirit, and they
were none the less glum. Jimmy was
tall, slender youth. He had frank, in
telligent face, with lines Of ambition. His
new sense of Importance lent dignity to his
carriage, his expression and his gait.
That afternoon Tansy Mollie came up to
the Jail to bid him goodbye He saw
her in the visitors room. She was more
than ever tender more than ever worship
ing, in her simple, Tar Flat way. She
congratulated him warmly, but he paid
little heed And though she hoped against
hope, the poor girls doubts Of his love
grew greater and greater in the face of this
undeniable change in him. Jimmy was
getting too high for her now; Jimmy was
a regular convict-an amateur no longer.
Over the shining bay waters, with
Deputy Marion Wilson, Jimmy rode ex-
pectantly next day. He smiled in superior
complaisance at two tenderly unwise old
ladies who were ''coony'' enough to pity
him. They little knew. And when he
had arrived at the old brick prison, and
passed through the outer gate and the flag
stones of the walk within the walls, and
viewed the gray stone cell buildings, and
the men in stripes, who were his superiors
no longer, he felt the warm glow of self
contentment.
All was rose -colored and scented for half
an hour. Then the horizon was speckled
with the first cloud Of gloom. He met an
old friend.
Hello, Jack = he cried, warmly.
"Hello, Jimmy y returned Jack, quite
unmoved.
sWho's here p he asked, with admir-
able sangfroid.
ooh, the usual run, said Jack, in
differently.
"Wheres Bart p
'Bart VINO p
'Black Bart. want to meet him.
ooh, you do, do yer? Got yer salt
yet?''
envy salt? No. Where do get it p
cover at San Rafael. The next time
you take your mornin' walk, buy ton or
two at the grocery, an git the man to
sprinkle it on yer. Jest tell him you re
fraid yer'll spoil, and Jack turned con-
temptuously away.
Jimmy blushed to the roots of his stub
BILE. To crown all, tall, dignifed, i'm
posing looking man walked slowly by, nod
ded to Jack, and said, pleasantly
HHello Dolan p
"Hello, Bart r returned Jack.
1t was Black Bart, the famous highway
man. Jimmy's discontinue was complete.
For week this state of affairs continued.
His expected happiness. had turned to
misery. Every anticipated sweetness OF
recognition by the honored men OF his pro-
fession had been gall instead. He could
not understand it. He was stranger in
a strange land Even the boys in the
tinshop where be had been put to work re-
fused to chum with him, claiming super
iority over hsm that was mystery. He
grew bitterly ashamed CT, his clothes; they
were SO strangely, degradingiy new. He
was utterly lonely and disconsolate; he
almost wished at times that he had not
come.
One day, however, as he was passing BY
the east end of the cell building he was