The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1907-12-17
CHNHDEH@S.
BY Eleanor. u. Porter,

bird chirped overhead.
Come, sir. come! Where are you,
Weary Willie?" called the man again,
peering into the shadows.
The silence was unbroken.
Until 1t was quite dark the man
sat on the bench and waited; then he
rose and walked away
On the next night twilight found
the hollow-eyed, shabby man on the
same bench. The dog, too, found
him there.
"Humph!" growled the man,
throwing that same quick look about
him. and dragging from his pocket
paper bag. Seems to me you were
a good while coming," He extracted
sandwich, broke off generous
piece, and tossed IL to the dog.
SNAP went the famished jaws, and
the dog came at once to" attention"
All. hal" crowed the man. so
YOU were hungry" He threw
second piece. then another, and an
other. THERE" he exclaimed, when
the sandwich was finished How do
you feel. Weary Willle?"
The dog whined, and took a tenta
tive step forward.
What's your name-'.Iack?
There was slow wagging of the
dogs tail.
'Fido?'"
The tail wagged harder.
Rover
There was n quick, short bark.
Come here, sir" ordered the man:
but at the outstretched hand the dog
turned and ran; the memory of those
friendless days and nights was rot to
be so lightly cast aside.
lt came to be regular thing after
that for the shabby man to bring
nightly sandwich to the bench in the
park, and for the dog TO come and
eat 1t. There was always an ex-
change of courtesies in the shape Of
joyial greetings and sharp banks, and
gradually the dog lost his fear. Three
times he tried to follow his new
friend home, but the sharp GO back
feet 10 halt, and sent the dog stink
sir, go back" brought the little eager
ing bacl to the shadows, there to
stand with wistful eyes gazing after
the shabby figure disappearing down
the street.
After all. where's the use of II.
Weary Willle?" asked the man one
night when. the sandwich gone, the
two sat together on the bench.
where's the use of it? There's no
one to care what becomes of us, you
and me. Let's chuck it,"
The dog thumped his tail against
tho seat;
"Humph! Think It's 4 Joke, do
You? Well, maybe tits, maybe it's"
There was something queer about
the man that night. His voice shook,
and was not quite clear; his step, too,
was far from steady, and he dropped
on the seat with curious relaxation
OF all his muscles. The next night 1t
was worse, and the next, worse still.
There was a fiat bottle which he
brought again and again from his
pocket and put to his lips after a cau-
tious look about him. He stayed
longer and longer each night, and
sometimes he seemed to sleep, so low
was his head bowed on his breast.
AT such times the dog spent long
minutes in motionless Watching of the
silent figure, giving occasionally 1
low whine-a whine which met with
no response.
There had been almost week OF
this when one night the man slipped
from the seat and lay half on the
ground. Cinders leaped to tho mans
side and licked his face, his hands.
and again his face. He whined, then
parked. then stood quiveringly alert
for the slightest movement. At that
instant down the path came several
boys eating bananas.
There was chorus OF jcers. then
a fusillade of banana skins. Cinders.
fierce and bristling, faced the crowd
and barked He growled and showed
his small white teeth. as from all
sides came men and boys on the run.
More banana skins, and even small
stones, struck the man, the dog, and
the ground nearby. Still the dog
stood firm, thrusting his tiny, fierce
little SELF between the inert figure
and the crowd.
suddenly the man opened his eyes.
One glance at the mob. the dog. and
the flying stones and banana skins
cleared his brain. with sna1 OF
rage he caught the quivering little
dog in his arms and staggered to his
feet There was cry OF "The cons
a-comin' and tho man found him
self all of once alone with the dog.
while up the path came q blue-coated
hurrying figure. Claspin., tho dos
yet more firmly in his arms. the man
turned and walked rapidly i'm the
opposite direction.
Come. come. what's the meanine,
OF all this?' called the policeman. be-
tween short. painting breaths. as he
reached the shabby mans side.
Nothing returned the man. la
conlcally
But the crowd-whot were they
doing?"
"Stoning the dog and me.
"Stoning yOui Been drinkin'?7
|. DO ! acc drunk" retorted the
man, sharply
The policeman gave him lonr.
sbrewd glance.
Mighty near &c.. he growlod
Then he tried a new tack.
Whose dog Is III" he demanded.
Mine There was ring OF de-.
fanco in the mans voice.