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Page 23 text:
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Page 25 text:
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THE CARNATION 42319. FIRST-CLASS AIND UNSOILED ECEIVIBER the twenty-third was a cold, bleak day. The sky was an ominous grey color, full of clouds that fore- casted a snowy Christmas. A raw, cold wind whistled up and down the streets and not many people were seen. Down Evans avenue there came a man. He was apparently about twenty-eight or thirty. A disreputable looking black felt hat was pulled down over the head of yellow, curly hair, but left to View a pair of thoughtful blue eyes, brooding eyes that could look merry if their owner were in a happier frame of mind. His nose was straight and perfect, while his full lips would have disclosed beautiful white teeth had he been smiling. He was very tall and powerful looking. Q He came to a stop before a house in front of which a pile of coal lay apparently ready to be put in the basement. He eyed it speculatively a moment, then turned and went up the steps to the door. Here he hesitated as always, his pride made him reluc- tant to ask for jobs of menial character. Finally he rang the doorbell. When the housewife answered the door he hesitantly asked for the job of putting the coal in. The woman looked at the snow clouds in the sky, thought a minute and then asked what he would charge. Upon hearing that he would do it for a dollar she said the job was his. He stood wrapt in thought a moment beside the wheelbar- row and finally began to shovel in slow heavy loads. Suddenly he was accosted by a small boy, who came flying down the steps from a neighboring house. Here, you, watcha mean, takin' my job away from me? lVIiss Gillis promised me seventy-fi' cents fer puttin' that coal in, an' I was goin' to put it in this afternoon, too, and o-o-oh, now I won' get that seventy-fn' cents and I on'ey needed that much more! he ended, wailing disconsolately. He didn't look to be much more than ten years old. The man had to smile at the idea of this mite of a boy handling the huge shovel, which even he found difficult to work with. What's your name, sonny, and what did you only need seventy-five cents more for? he inquired, smiling. lVIy name's Danny Woodruff, but I don't see anything fer yuh to smile about when yuh go an' take a fella's job, the little fellow cried with a fresh burst of tears. I needed that seventy-fi' cents, too. It's on'ey two days 'til Christmas an' I jus' got a dollar an' a quarter and I gotta get two dollars. My mummie's sick an' I wanna buy 'er a mos' beeyutiful cap that's down at the dry goods store, an' it costs two-o-o dollars an' I need sev- enty-fi' cents more an' now I can't git it, he sobbed, digging his grimy fists in his eyes while the tears ran down the poor little face until it was almost raw. i During this tearful speech the man had stood leaning on his shovel, gazing thoughtfully at the woe begone little figure. He sighed and his clear blue eyes lit up as he smiled. Well, son, I see your point of view. The job was really yours, but the work was assigned to me. Now I'll tell you, sup- pose I do the work I'm supposed to, and pay you the seventy- five cents for your job and l'll keep the twenty-five cents. Will that do? He regarded the small, dubious face with serious amusement. You know we really ought to be friends anyway, for- my name is Danny, too-Danny Jones. The lad's howls had quieted and now he regarded the man gravely, Well, would ut be fair? Would ut really an' truly be my money? Of course, he was assured, You deserve the seventy-five cents for letting me have the job, I think.
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