Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1910-09-10
Ne1usboy Pat
And His
Re1uurd

Ne1UQ1Q
Patrick Dandy had never known
what it was to have good home. He
had been born in the slums OF New
York city, and when but three years
old his father had met with fatal
accident while working In street tun-
mel, and was carried from the scene Of
accident to the Charity hospital, from
there to the cemetery.
And then came the "tug Of war" for
poor little widow Dandy, mother Of
Patrick, commonly known as Pat. And
until Pat was seven years old the liv-
ing little mother kept him in school by
the labor Of her hands. Then her
health began to fail and she was
obliged to send Pat on the street to
sell papers, for she could no longer
fight the battle Of bread-earning and
rent-paying alone.
So the two worked together, Pat
and the little mother, till Pat reached
IL years Of age. One evening, after
day Of intense heat, when the great
city seemed on fire, Pats mother was
carried from the box factory where she
worked. to the same Charity hospital
where her husband had breathed his
last. And there, too, the poor, over
worked widow passed from the battle
Of life, and Pat stood alone beside the
plain black coffin in which the city
buried her.
Then little Patrick knew what It
meant to be on the streets, for he
could not pay the rent for the one
room in which he and his mother had
liver since the fathers death. Till that
sad day they had known the comforts
of a two-room apartment, and had at
least not wanted for food. For Pats
paper bCsiness did not bring in enough
profit to pay room rent and coal bills
and the price Of food. So on the third
day after his mothers death, Pat, bro
ken-hearted and alone, sold to sec
onG-hand dealer the few house fur
nishings, his mothers only posses
sions, and with the paltry dollars they
brought, stepped out to face the
world.
The first few nights he slept in a
convenient park, but after that the
policemen became more strict concern
ing the park laws and drove the
homeless from the shelter Of trees and
the restful benches when a certain
hour close to midnight arrived. To be
sure, one might sit on the benches in
the park, even after that fatal hour.
but one might not sleep there. And Pat
knew that he could not work all day
and sit up all night, open-eyed. And II
he dared to fall asleep sitting on a
bench he was in danger Of dropping
into reclining posture. Then beware,
for along would come a coop" and
poor Pats feet would ache for hours
afterward from contact with the off,
GERS club.
So on the fourth night after his
mothers death Pat wandered to the
outskirts of the city where some of the
vacant lots, filled with great boulders
and occasional trees gave him sweet
security from the ever-to-be-feared
coop" And there Pat crept into a
nook and slept the rest of the weary
and overworked child. And when he
awoke in the morning bird was sing
ing right over his head. The city far
below him was awaking with dull
roar, and the sun was sending signals
of his approach In the form OF long
brilliant rays which shot far into the
heavens. Pat lay still and listened to
the birds song and watched the suns
approach. Then, awaking to the reali-
ties of life, he arose and wondered
where he would find his breakfast. His
papers would be ready for him soon,
| but-he must go away into the very
heart Of the city to get them. And
then would follow the mad rush to
sell them. How he hated the thought
!, 1ft nd on nc hoo
tiful morning after a taste Of quiet
and sweet peace. Then an idea came
to him. He would leave the city; go
away-anywhere SO as to be outside
! its noise, heat, misery.
He turned his face toward the Hud-
son river, within a stones throw Of
where he had slept through the night.
And across the broad, turbulent
stream, he could see the iron-like side
Of the Palisades. All, to go over there!
To wander on and on through the
deep forest which seemed to cover the
| land that loomed above the rocky
/ banks of the river. Never had Pat
seen the country. His life had been
spent in the EAST Side," squarter Of
the city where gaunt want and crime
and misery and hate and fear lowered
over all there Once his mother had
saved enough money to take him to
Coney Island, but the day had been a
failure, for both Pat and the mother
went hungry all day, not having the
| price of a meal in any of the many
restaurants along the beach. And not
one of the hundreds Of show places
could they enter for the want of the
necessary price of admission. So from
that day, they had decided to stay at
home and spend their spare dimes in