Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-07-04

nished Curran, of the News, with
editorials.
But no one who was any one
minded Curran. In Rome every
body who was anybody had money
In these rich and mature days, hav-
ing the static order of the east and q
stationary population, more than a
generation Of young men had gone of
from the priceless corn lands Of the
country to the cheaper acres Of the
Canadas, or the irrigated valleys OF
California and New Mexico or to the
cities. Retired farmers moving in
to town for the schools and freedom
from stock-feeding. did not compen-
safe for the drain Of younger blood.
Curran lamented this. But Curran
himself had gone off to swing the
circle Of the west for a decade and
come back a beggar to take up the
News on his fathers death. And now
the News could cackle as 1t pleased
about progressiveness and keeping the
young men in the county for their
fresh spirit and lustier ideals. No
one minded-none Of the best peo-
pie. Anybody who was anybody
wouldn't think Of moving away.
Except Mr.. Curran. He wondered
why he had come back. Sentiment
brought him as 1t had sent him forth,
as it directed most Of his affairs. Sen
timent, this September afternoon, kept
him sitting on bale Of stock paper in
front of the News Office watching the
town kids bat flies on the vacant lot
next to him. 1t was press day, the
weeks issue was run off and Aleck
and Jim Minis, the tramp printer, were
wrapping the mail list to take to the
postoffice In the wheelbarrow. Mr.
Curran ought to have been busy but he
smoked and watched the town kids
In that same lot he batted flies with
the same fence for back-stop, yelled
the same derision at the pitcher, broke
the same windows and fed down the
same alley when old Marshal Bee came
doddering from the court house on
complaint of the Widow Steger. Mr.
Curran could sentimentally forget that
he was thirty mine. ...... .r
The clamor of the high-school foot
ball practise came from behind the
curtain Of yellowing sugar trees on
High street. Only the younger town
kids still fingered at the summer d.
version of fiy-batting, and for every
urchin who hung his bare legs over the
News walk in the tarweed, waiting his
turn, there were at least two dogs. AS
Jim Minis said, all the yelps and kyoo-
dies in town were there. Mr.. Currar
sentimentally wished he had a dog
he felt himself a man worthy a
good dog. He listened to Aleck slap
ping the paste on the wrappers and
watched the kyoodles yawing around
the kids feet, scratching their spines
in the tarweed and grinning up with
all the pleasure of it, and he said sud-
denly aloud:
Gee, I wish had dog!"
Then somebody whom he had moi
noticed-a big dusty man wearing 9
new and absurdly small derby hat,
stopped with his hand on the hitchine
post before the News office and retort.
ed:
Gee, I wish l had a dog!"
The editor turned and then stood uI
and yelled And the big dusty man
took his hand and he yelled.
Wiley, old top!"
"Rube, you old Indian!"
Rube grinned all over his swarthJ
face. "Old top, how are you?'
High, wide and handsome!"
You don't look the last, Wiley
How's the old lady?"
Aunt Abby's fit as silk. Come uI
to dinner"
Il intended to. Hey, the kids still
playing ball on the lot like they die
when was kid"
SGdSOll ClOSSu, yin
your bunch wind up?"
In the cellar. I'm through with th'
game. Wiley. / can't throw to secont
no more. My arms all in. No mor'
of this bush-league ball for me. Car
michael's still got that job for me
chambermaid to his livery horses?"
Mr.. Curran laughed sorrowfully. 81
did Rube Van Hart. He rubbed hi
big red hands and ther, telltale ret
nose and looked down at the town kid
who had assembled to gaze in awe
One raced off to the high school prac
tise to spread the news: Hi, Rube Val
Hart's got back"
Everybody knew Rube. Poor oil
Rube! The whole nation knew Rub
while back-let's see? Was it witt
the Cubs, 1901 or '02? Eh, the bubbl
reputation! There were other might,
men now. Rube had gone back to tn
bush"
Next spring." went on the forme
Lacquer, I'll stay and coach the high
school bunch, Wiley"
mo you won't" smiled the editor
when you begin to read the Sunda
sups, and spring training opens u
down in San Antonio, you'll be missin
some fine morning. Gone to help brea
in the Cub recruits. and then you
play out the season with the Cotto
! league or the Three
mo more. Here's my finish, Vile
right here where I learned the gam
next the News lot. Back in the oil
town where you come back, too, Vile!
Back where we were kids together"
The editor looked wistfully acros
the court house square. The bi
leaguer's glance followed. A bar @
the sunset lighted the dingy old cour
house. The windows were open. Fror
the court room above came the voice G
some lawyer droning his plea to far
mer jury. In an office on the lowe
floor one could see a woman bent Sc
riously over a desk Uttered with pa
pers and reports.
1.-The old red, west side school," mur
INJURED Rube. And there's Janet Vance