The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1920-12-23

BN5Y5 shaking and prophecies
N of disaster of all the
neighbors. Even his ia
Their and mother, with past
years of toll rapidly be-
ginning to tell upon them, were pes
Simistic of his chances of success, nor
could they resist expressing their fore
Bodings. His mother was worried by all
she had heard of the tempta-
tions and Establishments that beset
the way of an unsophisticated coun-
try boy away off in the big, cailous,
turbulent city, and his father-sorely
needing the hoy's help about the farm
had no faith in Toms roseate expec-
tatiOns.
The old folks loved their boy too
we'll to reproach linn for his desertion
now in the first flush of his young
manhood, but their hearts did ache at
thought Of the separation.
you'll soon get tired of all that
hurly-burly there in the city. Tom,
his old father told him. "And when
you do, want you always to remem-
Der that We've still got place for you
back here at the old homestead. 1t
mayn't be as fine and snowy as lots
you'll see there in the city, but it's
more the sort that the good Lord In
tended you for. Ma and / are hoping
the best for you, son, but-when you
do find out that your fortunes not
away off there-just pocket your pride
and come back here to us who love
you"
So young Tom left the farm with
shining eyes and a high heart and al
ventured into the great, far-away city
In quest of fame and fortune.
How he Jared there and all the sor-
ry disappointments that repeatedly
overlook him during that year of alb
sence would be long and narrowing
story to tell. He chased his rainbow
to its end, yet found the tabled pot of
gold not there as he had so confidently
and blatantly expected.
Tom made applications for all sorts
of office positions only to find himself
quickly rejected because Of his lack
of experience in those specific linz
His willingness to work hard, his Per-
sonal integrity and decent habits, it
appeared, were not assets that counted
for much in securing desk job in the
city.
"Well, anyway, I'm young and hus-
ky and used to hard manual labor,"
Tom consoled himself. 81 can at least
get a Job with a contracting gang, as
a painter, or plumbers assistant, or
teamster. That will suffice to keep me
going for a while until the sort of no
sition / want turns up
But even in those lines of work the
green country boy found himself sud-
denly brought up short against blank
wall. He had no references as to pasf
city employment and nobody would
hire him after once finding out that he
had no union card.
Huddled in his shabby overcoat on
a street corner In the squalid section
of the city-the icy wind whistling
around him and biting through his
threadbare garments-poor Tom stood
on the evening before Christmas, won
lering where he might find a shelter
In which to sleep that night without
freezing. A few blocks away the huge
bulk of the railroad station frowned
down upon the dilapidated stained
brick structures that were the barrel
houses. the all-night lunch counters
and the hobo 'flops'' where bunk for
the night might be had for g dime. Off
beyond them hulked the great, square,
darkened warehouses Of tle wholesale
district. The melancholy putting and
bell changing of trains reverberated
family from the freight yards and the
dirty. snow-encrusted sidewalks crack
led frostily, protestingly, Under the
footsteps of the occasional shabby pc
destrian sinking past the solitary Tom
with furtive eyes.
Just how long he had stood there
shivering in the chill wind on the
street corner-bitterness against the
great, unfeeling city ranking in his
heart-Tom did not know. He was
startled from his moody reverie by
hearing a hoarse, wheedling voice at
his very elbow, saying what was in
tended as confidential tone:
How'd y'like a nice hot feed and
some coin to jingle in yer pants, DO?
Amt hungry, are ya?''
WhirIing about, Tom saw that his
accoster was an understood, burly fell
low with tough, truculent visage and
hands showed deep into the side pock-
cts of his coat. He wore battered
cap with the visor pulled low down
over his eyes and spat malevolently
upon the sidewalk each time before he
spoke.
How'd ylike the idea, huh?" ne re-
iterated in his raucous, grating voice,
siding closer as he spoke and casting
a wary eye up and down the nearly
deserted, gloomy, wind-swept street
Tom regarded him with distaste and
undisguised mistrust. He looked like
a typical taug. Eut misery cannot be
too fastidious about the company it
keeps. Finally Tom scowled blackly
and answered:
whats that to you, anyway"
swell, you're 0Htta luck, amt cha,
pal? Yer on yer uppers, stony broke
and maybe with an empty belly, too,
huh, BIO? Well, i guessed that much.
I amt blind yet, / amt! Well, /
need pal for a little job tonight and
we both can make a lotta jack out Of