Evening star., 1919-04-06


him, and brothers their sisters. Buzz
Werner not only was tough-he look
ed tough.
His name was not really Buzz. His
mother called him Ernie. and she
alono in all Chippewa was unaware
that her son was the town tough guy
But even she sometimes mildly re-
monstrated with him for being what
she called kind of wild. If Buzzs real
name was lost in the aim mlsts OF
boyhood, the origin and fitness OF his
nickname were apparent after Two Two
minutes conversation with him. BuZz
Werner was called Buzz not only pc
cause he talked too much, but because
he was q braggart He buzzed
BY the time Buzz was fourteen, ne
was stealing brass from the yards~oI
the big paper mills down In the mats
and selling 1t to tho junk man. AZ
nineteen he was running WIN INV
Kearney girl.
Twenty-Five years hence chippewa
will have learned TO treat the Rear
. lie menace. Which she was. The
Kearney girl ran wild IN Chlppewa,
and Chippewa will be paying taxes on
the fruit of her liberty for hundred
years.to come. The Kearney girl was
( beautiful idiot. with a lovely oval
eyes, and fair. fne hair, and lohs
slim neck. The Kearney girl was for-
ever running up and down Grand ave
nue., which was the main business
street. She would trail up and. dowm own
from the old armory to the post oflics
and back again. When she turned on
into the homeward stretch on Outa-
Eamie street there always SUNK aiter
her some stoop-shouldered, 1urtlve,
Looping youth. But he never was seen
ND
often been up before old Judge Colt foT
some nasty business or other. oia
Judge Colt meted out Justice accord
ing to his lights. This nymph ~ was
who had taken q fancy to Buzz Wer'
ner 1t looked very black LOT MS A"-
The strange part Of 1t was that tho
= rirl possessed little attraction Tor
BUZZ. It was she who made all the
advances. Buzz had sprung from
very decent stock. And eomething
about the sultry unwholesomeness OF
this girl repelled him: though ne was was
hardly aware that this was 20. Buzz
and his gang would meet down town
of a Saturday night. very moist as to
hair and clean as to soft shirt. They
would lounge on a corner OF Grand
. and OutaKarnie, in front Of 6chroe.
der's brightly lighted drug store.
watching tho girls 60 by.
Inl6 corner VI AIOhoNUh RoN-
shack. was their club. their forum.
Here they recounted their exploits.
Dragged Of their triumphs. boasted
of their girls, fexed their muscles TO
show their strength. And all through
their talk there occurred again ana
again q certain term whose use ls
common to their kind. Their remarks
were prefaced and interlarded anu
concluded with 1t. 20 that 1t was no
1opnor oath Or a hlQGDh0nys
~ was sore at i'm. I told i'm where
to get off at. Nobody can talk to me
like that. I should say not!'
II Buzz's family could have heard
him in his talk with his. street cor
ner companions they would not have
credited their ears. mouthy orag-
. gart in company Is often silent In his
own home. and Buzz was no excep-
. tion.
If the Werner family had been city
folk they would. perfOrce. have bur-
rowed in one Of those rabbit-warren
tenements that line block after block
OF city streets. But your small-town
laboring man Is likely TO own MS
two-story frame house. with garden
patch in the back and cement walk
leading up to the front porch, and
roust pork on Sundays. The Werners
had all this. no thanks to Pa Wer-
ner: no thanks Ito Buzz. surely; and
Nttle to Minnie Werner, VINO clerked
in a candy store and tried to dress
like Angie Hatton. whose father
owned the biggest pulp and paper
mill in Fox River valley. No. the
house and the garden, the porch and
the cement sidewalk. and the pork
roast oil had their origin in Ma Wer-
ner's tireless energy, in Ma Wernere
thrift; in her patience and unremtt-
ting toll her nimble fingers and bent
back, her shapeless figure. and un-
bounded and uneXpressed verbally,
that is) love for her children. An
expert stone mason by trade. Pa
Werner could be, depended on only
when he was not drinking, or when
he was not on strike, or when he
had not quarreled with the foreman.
An anarchist, Pa--dissatisfled with
things as they were. but with no
plan for improving them.
1t was in May, fine warm sunny
day. that Ma Werner. looking up
from the garden patch where she was
spading, q mans old battered felt hat
perched grotesquely atop her white
head. saw Buzz lounging homew ard,
cutting across lots from Bates street,
his dinner pail glinting In the sun 1t
was 4 o'clock in the afternoon.
AS Buzz espied her his gain became
O swagger. At sight OF that swagger
ma knew She dropped her spade and
plodded heavily through the freshly
turned earth to the back porch as
Buzz turned in at the walk.
whats the matter Ernie? You
Amt sick, are your