The mirror., 1923-06-07
THE FIGURE IN BRONZE
Continued from page y

her eyes dimmed by sorrow, privation,
and abuse, took in washing to support the
family. The only child, a boy of twelve,
and bright, considering his environment,
was eager and willing to work, and sold
papers, blacked shoes, and cleaned cuspi-
dors at nearby pool-hall when he was
rot Chasing the can" after beer for his
father.
There home, a mere shack covered upon
the outside with odorous tar-paper, con-
tanned but two rooms, which large door
way really made into one. AS the slum-
workers entered the shack, Mrs. Larson
left her tub, wiped her hands upon her
apron, tumbled pile of dirty clothes off
couple of chairs upon the floor, and in
vited the deaconess and Miss True to be
seated
Larson, long and lanky of figure, with
sneering, diabolical looking dirty and
bewhiskered face, sat with feet upon the
hearth of broken stove which was prop
ped up at one corner with bricks. He
squirmed and paved beneath the collar
of his shirt and scratched industriously.
Every now and then he would turn to
spit great quantities of tobacco juice to-
ward box of sawdust near the foot of
an old wooden bed, the saliva often miss
ing it mark and hitting the bedpost which
was now filthy with tobacco slime.
The two visitors having talked for
some time, and in encouraging vein, to
Mrs. Larson, Miss True endeavored to
draw Larson himself into the conversa-
ton, but he only leered at her and
grunted as he took fresh sip of beer
from the pail beside him. The filth was
nauseating, and so the ladies, having Of
fered prayer, and leaving bottle of
medicine for Mrs. Larson, arose to leave.
AS the door closed behind the slum-
workers, Larson grunted, "That young
vixen tried to talk to me about "old
whiskers!"
"Hush, Charlie interposed Mrs. Lar
every decent person that comes here. And
for you to refer to God as "old whiskers!"
Why, it's awful"
Larson sneered, spit upon the bedpost
again, and retorted, "Needn't try to talk
their ID religion to me. l know bet
ter!'
'Here's our next stop" remarked the
deaconess as the two arrived at another
shack; "Mrs. Glen lives here"
ooh! Come in,-I'm so glad to see you,"
was Mrs. Glen's greeting as she answered
the knock at her door.
Mr.. and Mrs. Glen proved to be an
elderly and very interesting couple. There
were five children, all small, yet each one
contributing his share, for the entire fam
lily sewed grain sacks at their humble
home for a living They all arose, shook
the dirt from their aprons, and each
clasped the proffered hand of the two
callers.
ooh, Dick sDick!" piped small voice
from without
Mamma, it's Bobbie LARSON" said little
Dick to his mother.
"Ask him to come in," responded Mrs.
Glen, and Bobbie entered holding up a
large catfish that he had just caught.
"That's the boy! Always bringing
something home for mamma and papa"
remarked Mr.. Glen.
"Oh that's just fine" said Miss True.
"Any-r-a7g-s, any rags" called the
voice of an old Jew rag buyer passing by.
Gosh That's about all that we have
got, but we can't sell them," commented
Glen with chuckle, at which the children
laughed and resumed sewing sacks.
"Children, how would you all like to
spend week in the country, play under
the trees roll uDon the grass drink inst