The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1914-09-15
Observation-Disclosures
AMBROSE and PINCOS
BY MONTAGUE GLASS.

To the eye Of a casual observer Pin
Gus Shapiro was an understood child
of seven, jumping clumsily up and
down on the sidewalk In front of his
self, however, for at that moment
Pincus was a horse. proud horse
with flowing name and tail, FESTIVE
beast that plunged and reared even as
did the steed of Mr. Madigan, the sar
loonkeeper, on ST. Patricks day. So
Pmcus shook his head and made bub-
bling noises with his lips like an i'm
patient pony, desisting at intervals to
cope with a severe coryza by process
of inhalation
1t was during the execution by Pin
Gus OF a truly marvellous pirouette
that Ambrose McGann paused on his
way home to lunch from the paroch1al
school and made critical survey Of
the performance. Here was some
thing extraordinary, Ambrose cogitat-
ed, an infant, and to all appearances
one of the seed of Abraham, playing
solitary game on the sidewalks and
finding amusement in dumb motions
that made you laugh-yes, that made
you guffaw In raucous, inarticulate
teers. 1t excited certain resentment
in Ambrose.
Ambrose was not imaginative and
couldn't play that he was a horse any
more than he could eat potato and
think 1t an apple. He had attained the
age of eight years on Cherry street,
which is equivalent to twelve on Fifth
avenue and sixteen In the rural dis
tricts; and he was disillusionized &C
cordingiy. All his playing had its
utilitarian aspect. For instance, hide
and seek around the vegetable stands
OF the corner grocery meant eating
apples at the conclusion OF the game,
just as an apparently childish romp
resulted in visit to the junk-shops
Of the neighborhood and much candy
for a few days.
Hence 1t offended Ambrose to view
the harmless pleasure of Pincus Sha-
piro and, by way Of showing his dis
approval, he picked out a nice soft
spot on the plump person of that I'M
fortunate centaur and landed on it
hard with his right fist
Pincus, at the moment, was poised
on the coping in front of his fathers
basement store. Losing his balance,
he toppled over, striking the pave
ment Of the four-foot depression full
on the back of his head.
Ambrose waited for the wall of an
guish that he felt sure would follow.
Hearing none, he peered cautiously
down the areaway. The erstwhile
steed lay huddIed in a little heap, his
face showing white through its accus-
toned CRIME, and thin stream Of
blood trucking from his nostrils.
A spasm of terror seized Ambrose.
He turned and bolted In blind, head
long fight, nor paused until his feet
could go no farther. He sank pant
ing upon one of the benches of
small East side park, where he stayed
only long enough to recover his wind,
and renewed his journey almost imme-
diately. He had but a single idea
to put as much distance as possible
between himself and that little blood
stained body. Ambrose knew some
thing Of death. for not long before he
had seen his own father brought home
a corpse-killed by falling from an
unfinished building.
At length the fugitive could run no
more. He seated himself on the stoop
Of house in quiet uptown avenue
that might have been in different
hemisphere from Scanned street.
Here he remained in a sort of coma
for half an hour, Incapable of motion
or even of thought, gasping for breath,
until the wild jumping of his heart
had In some degree subsidized. Then.
with a rush, the recollection of his
awful deed came over him; and as he
was only little boy, after sll, he bent
his head over his knees and gave way
TO his pent-up emotion in a torrent of
choking sobs and tears.
Even as Ambrose himself had
loitered to observe the antics of Pin
Gus Shapiro, so did a butchers assist
ant pause and watch in silence the
violent sobbing Of Ambrose, who soon
became dimly aware of the specta-
tors presence and lifted his tear.
stained face.
'-Wot yer rubberin' att" he said.
sitting his sobs as well as he could.
For answer the butcher boy stared
on. Ambrose sprang to his feet and,
without any premonitory dialogue.
sailed in to whip the insulting youth.
who was at least four years his senior
and almost head taller. 1t was
short and decisive battle, and Am
brose, his feelings much relieved by
his victory, started for the park,
which he saw a block distant, while
the butcher boy ran wailing down the
street, his own gore mingling with
that Of his masters meat and poultry
on his white apron.
The waning light of March after
noon told Ambrose it was after five
o'clock. even had his stomach. the
little boys unfailing chronometer. not
confirmed the announcement. The
thing now was to find something to
eat. He had been on his way home
to lunch when he met Pincus, and the
thought of the fried liver or chuck
steak that he had missed almost made
him weep anew. But meals on Cherry
street are more or less uncertain af-
fairs. Sometimes you get them, some
times you don't; and the skipping of
lunch only made Ambrose the keene.
for his dinner.
As he entered the park he encoun-
tered a boy carrying a small wooden
box suspended from his shoulders.
"La-a-arzenges, cent a PACKAGE"
the young merchant chanted for Am
brose's benefit Milk chawklet. Pea
nutsl"
He made one grab and was off with
the spoils before the astonished ven
der could even put forth a show OF de-
Tense. His last flight led him into
the middle of the park. and there, in
little rocky glen, he proceeded to
make his evening meal of the stolen
peanuts and candy.
The afternoon was darkening to
bleak winter night as Ambrose
finished his supper. Licking the last
crumbs from his gr1my hands, he
turned over in his mind the chances
OF getting a shelter till morning.
Often in summer he had slept In Cen
trail park. but in winter he never
strayed farther north than Houston
street. Once, when his late father
had been out of Job, he and his