Bottles And Rags

Bottles had been declaiming from the top of a barrel which stood aniong otlier inerchandise upon the dock, when a slim inite of a girl carne toward him from the other side of the wuarf. Bottles jumped down from the barrel, and, with a stage stride, approiiched the girl. They are a cjnain t pair ; he a gatherer of empty bottles, she a rag pieker. If ever they had names they are now no longer spoken, for they are known among the quartern they vlait as Bottles and Rags. They were Boston street waifs. Bottles is one mat of tatters and flitters from crownles3 hat to torn shoes, through which his frost bitten toes peep. And the girl, if anything, is more rugged than he. As he grasps hold of the hand, the spirit of the man withiu him speaks: "Poor little Rags! cold as a hunk of Ice. Where you b'eu? what you got? and what you goin' to do with it? If you've b'en and got nuthin' and can't do anythin', then come with yer father. He'a got ten cents, and ten cents '11 buy a píate of fried cakes, kid." It was iuteresting to stndy the expression of utter trust which came upon the girl's face while the boy in speaking. Her father I That was only a pet term he was wont to use, expressive of his guardiauehlp over her. "Bottles," said the girl, after a short pause, "what's the most money you aver had in all yer life?" "To onct, do you mean, Rags" "Yup." "Well, let me see; I had- whyl last Christmas I had as much as one sevpntyfive" "Yon poor thing! yer too poor fur me to 'sociate with," broke in the girl, as she drew her ragged skirt away with niock pride. "See here, Raga, you've allere b'en square with yer father. You've got sunthln on yer mind. Jist teil me the huil thing er- 111 cut you off with ten cents. Hot havin' the reg'lar shillin'." "Feast youreyes on that," said the girl, holding out the 'hand which ahe had concealed behind her. The boy feil back a step or two as he gazed upon the article which she held. "Rags, hain't I brought you up be.tter ner this? You, you who I picked out the gutterl Oh! it's sharper than a snake's tail to have a priggin' dart er." "But I didn't prig the puss," qulckly exclaimed Rags. "Ah! spoken like me own dutifnl child. I gay, Rags, is the puss well heeled?" "I bain't looked; it's heavy, though, and it jingles. I only found it while 'go Over on India wharf. I run all the way to flnd you." Bottles took the puree in his hands. As he feit the magie touch of its contenta through the silken meshes it drove all thought of cokl or hunger away. In tlie purse was more money than either had ever befora touched. In it ■was warmth and victuals, though Bottles gave no thought to either, so overjoyed was he in the possession of the precious naoney, reul gold and silver, for he could teil that by its clinking. The two waifs flnally, cold and tired, reached the tumble down structure in South streef, where they lodged. They climbed up the rickety stairways, passed through the narrow, dark and ill smelling halls until they reached the attic door, upon whicli Bottles tapped softly. A small circular disk in one of the upper panels slid back, and a thin, beak like nose with a pair of red rlmmed eyes oppeared in the opening, as a sharp, raspy voice inquired: "Who's theref" "Bottles and Rags," responded the boy. The door was opened and the pair passed into the low, musty smelling room. "Got 'nthing?" asked the raspy voiced témale. "Nixy," returned the boy. The puree Jn his pocket seemed determined to jingle. This woukl have been a diré calamity; for the old woman would have pouuoed upon Jt like a hawk. "And you?" asked the woman, turning toward Ras. The girl held her hands out, palrasdown and open. "Humph' purtypair. No bottles, no rags; got nothin'! Can't stay here tonight." "Oh, yis, mammy- I forgot. I've got adime. Can 't you let us stay fur that?" broke in Tïottles. "Adime! small 'nuff. I_well, gi' me the money," said the woman. Boules laid the piece npon her outStretched palm. She threw b bag hood over her iron gray locks, and teking a noseless pitcher from the window sill went out. "Good. She's gone fur beer. When she driuks beer she sleeps, and when Rhe leeps, we counts thecontentsof this puss. 'Rags, I .say, kid, we'U have a daisy time 4o-morrov. Did you know to morrow Was the day fur doin' big eatin'? It's a reg'lar holJerday, and all us rich coona aon't have to do nothin' but iniovoureles." ' "A bollerday! will the band and the p'lice and flreworks" "Rags, yer out oí yer lattytude, as the sailors clown at the Hum sez. To-morrow's Thanksgiving, kid." "What's that, Bottles?" "The day set 'part for doin' big feedin', sabe?" "Yup," responded Rags. "I say, Rags, did 'ny one see you piek it up - the pussf" "No; I jist seen it kinder jammed down in a big crack. I knowed it was ducats, and, when knowin' a thing of that sort, I made sure no one was lookin' when I iifted it." "And a purty good lift it was, Rags. That one lift means big feedin' fur you and I 'long with the swells. If there's nuff ducats left we'll get sum uew togs and board round a spell 'fore settlin' down to biz 'g'in. Nixy, now, here comes the old woman. " The tutter entered with the pitcher of beer. The waifs went to the snuff box window and gazed out upon the chilly looking roofs and the slippery street below. The old woman drank the beer, after which she rolled herself in a tattered blanket, laid down upon a creaking bed, turned her face to the wall, and was soon loudly snoring. "She's gone up, Rags. No-.v fur it, but hang a rag over the keyhole first, " said the boy. The girl did as he requested, then came and sat down by him. He poured the clinking pieces upon the soap box under the window sill. "Rags, I reckon there's nuff ducats here to buy a huil house froni bottom to cabaza." "Really, Bottles?" "You hear your father talk! I hain't much on the count, but I guess I can strike it within a few hundred. Jist foller me - helio! here's sumthin' else in the puss. A ring. Bah! I don 't take no stock in them things. Can get a huil cartload jist like it down in Salem street fur ten cents a one. Put her on, kid." The ring, evidently designed for a child, just fitted the dirty little finger over which the girl slipped it. "Now fur the ducats. Rags, ducats is the root hog er die; an' I'm jist porker nuff to root into 'em. One, two, three - grand and galorious signurs, here's more'n ten doublé buzzards. Them stands fiir f20, two of 'em is $40, and so on xcetry. Here goes fur a count. One, two, three, four, flve. That's jistan even $100. Phew! rich is no name fur it. Put yer finger on that pile. Rags, yer holdin' down $100 Does it burn yer fingers? I'll even up with tliat pile and - presto! - there's $200. Two huudred dollars and other chicken feed too numerous to mention!" exclaimed the boy, s weeping the money iuto the purse. "Better drop the sparkler in If the old woman gits on to it, good evenin' ducats, sparkler, big feedin', and all. I reckon we'd better get sum ba'my sleep now." "But, Bottles, I'm hungry. I want somethin' to eat first," said Rags, (inning her big blue eyes up at him. "Chew on that then, you poor little hungry kid you. All I got. Eat 'way, Rags; I can stand it till morriiiT- no, till dinner tomorrow." The boy lay down upon a pile of rags, and after the girl had eaten the soda cracker which he had given to her she too lay down near him and was soon wrapped in slumber. They awakened early, rose and stole from the attic, leaving the old woman still asleep ♦ "I say, Rae, hain't thia jist old serumshus?" "Yup," mumbled Rags, as she took a great hite of bread. "See here, kid, don't be wastin' yer eatitite on sich common grub as bread. Sail into the beans and salard, and ham 'n eggs,and cramberry and sassand - turkey. Turkey is the galorious bird of freedom today," urged Bottles, helping hiniself in turn to eaoh oí the dainties as named. Perhaps the Crawford was never graced by such a pair during the whole of its extent of catering to the public, Bottles had purchased two regular dinner checks, and chosen a table in the corner so as to le as free as possible from the hungry crowd which thronged the place. The waifs' faces wero washed clean; they were as tidy as their dilapidated gannents would permit. A new yellow ribbon held Rag's curls back from her really pretty face, with its roguish, big, blue eyes, cute little mouth md turn up nose. And Bottles, he had laid out a portion of the wealth on a paper collar, green tie and huge, glaring, red glass pin. The ring which the puree had contained was upon Rag's forefinger. "Hold up, Rags," whispered the boy, xraching her footwith his; "don't lick_yer fingere. Hain't I learned you better ner thatr I'm goin' to make a lady of you, dd, and I'm hound to have you git on to them small items." "All right, Bottles; I guess yer right. I hain't up in sich eatin' as this, and you must pardin slips." "Here's the wine list. Do we want llamml" "Nixey. 'T ain't fur sich as us, Bot;les, 'Sides, you'n I has started out on ,he temp'rance racket, and it hain't the thing fur us to use budge." "Yer speakin' in a right toot now, Rags. I only mentioned the fack fur fun. üan't you smuggle one of them tarts, Rags?" "Hain't it stealing" asked the girl, ooking up quickly. "Not if the court knows hisself. I aid for all tliat comes to this table in the way of grnb. I own all, but them dishes, spoons, forks and sich, and- Kut liold np. l'll go put a flea in this feller's ear who sold me the checks." Kottles rose and went to the cashier's desk A peculiar expression carne upon lus face as the boy spoke to him. Then he reached down under the desk and hamled out a paper sack. The boy' face was w reathed with smiles when he carne back. "It's Bil right, Rags. I told him as how I reckoned we'd have to make this feedin' last Uil next Tlianksgiviug; also that we wasn't bloated bankers and had hard diggin' fur grub. He give me this bag, and saíd I could take all tbat we couldn't eat. Hain't it slick?" "Well, I should smile. n ere 's two jam tarts" "Hold on, Rags; put the soliris In flrst, er you'll smash the tarts." A smile passed over each face as the waifs loaded tlieir bag with the remain of the meal. "Ready, Rngs?" "Yes; let me git my op'ra hat on al square." She arranged her headgear to snit her, and followed Bottles to the door. Then - all this brightness turned to clouds, tor a tall, blue ciad íorm, with doublé rows of brass buttons upon th brcast, stood there. "Come with me, kids," said the offker, taking hold of each by the shoulder. "You don't mean us? I say, boss, you've got the wrong party. We hain'1 done nutliin, have we, Ragsi1" But poor little Rags was crying. The blue coats had always been the terror of her life. She had heard terrible stories about them. Now, ehe and BottJes are in the care of one, and she is ready to drop in fright. "What's the racket, boss?" asked Bottlea. He, too, was troubled; but he must put on a brave face for the girl's sake. "Lifting a purse. Come on." And this was the end of the poor little waifs' grand dinner. On the way to the station house with an offlcer. A curions crowd of street boys, newspaper venders, bootblacks and the like followed the policeman and his two little prisoncrs to the station house. His honor was taking dinner; wonld not hold court today, and the two waifs were put into a comfortable cell upstairs. Rags cried herself to sleep, while Bottles, hero like, sat by her side upon the cot and kept cheering her up by telling her that it would be all right in the morning. And down stairs, under lock and key, the unlucky purse and ring were lying in the desk drawer. "Next." The two waifs, Bottles and Rags, were pushed forward until they stood in front of the desk before his honor. "Bless me! what's this? Little ones, what are you doing here?" asked the kind faced judge, beaming down upon the pair, through a set of gold bowed glasses. Bottles knew it was not proper for him to speak, and Rags could not. "Officer, what is the charge against thls pair?" asked the judge of the policeman who had made the arrest. "Stealing a purse, your honor." "Ah! that is a serious charge." "But, sir, 't ain't" "Never mind, my little man; j'our turn will come. Let the party wlio made the complaint stand forward." A tall man, ciad in clerical garments, with long drawn visage, stepped forward. The corners of his trap libe nouth were drawn down in a most solemn expression. He clasped his hands in front of him, and turned his eyes upon the little waifs, bs though even their presence was unholy to his cloth. "Your name?" uttered the judge. "Rev. Abraham Clearstarch. " Bottles could hardly hold in the titter, which, notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, was ready to bubble from his lips. "Yon are a minister, are you not?" The reverend gentlemen bowed. "Mr. Clearstarch, you may stnte your case in as few words as possible." "Yes, sir. Day before yesterday afternoon, I purchased a ring for my daughter. I put the ring into my purse, and walked down to India wharf upon business. Upon returning to my hotel I found that my purse was gone. I retraced my steps; but to no avail; I could not find my purse. Yesterday afternoon at dinner in the hotel where I was stopping I saw the ring upon the finger of this girl. I recognized the ring, and knew at once that she must know of the purse. I left the dining room, found an offleer and had him make the arrest. The girl picked my pocket." "Sureof that, Mr. Clearstarch?" asked his honor. "She must have done so. I certalnly could not have lost it," responded the reverend gentleman. "Was the purse and ring found upon the person of the culprit?" asked the judge of the officer. "The ring was upon the girl's finger, the purse in the boy 's pocket." "Bad case. Now, my little man, teil your story." "If you please, sir, I'm only a boy, rough and all that, sir. I swear sumtimes and - maybe you wouldn't believe me. She'll teil you all 'bout it. Yon see, she's only a little girl what hain't got no friend in all the world but Bottles - Bottles is me, sir. Rags is her name. She never swears and - she never picked his pockets. I know that, 'cause I'm her father, you sec." Bottles had found his tongue and he delivered the foregoing in a straightforward way, which made the judge smile good natnredly. "Now, Rags, teil it all. Don't be 'feared. The gospelsharp can't hurt us," whispered Bottles to the trembling girl by his side. With frequent sobs and choking exclamations Rags told her story, which you already know. She also told how good Bottles had been to her; how he had of ten gone without anything to eat so that she should have food. In all, she gave a faithful picture of the peculiar life which surrounded the pair. The judge was assured of hor truth, and after she had ceased, he said: "It's evident that the girl has told what is true. Is there any one in the room acqnainted with the pair?" A sleek, fat, jolly looking man stepped forward and said: "I know them, your honor. I keep a. butcher shop down in South street. A newsboy ame and told me last night that Bottles and Rags had been arrested. Your honor, I stand here to say, from the bottom of my heart, that I know both of them to be honest, square and upright. They are unforlunate children of the street who make an honest living. I hope your honor won't be hard on the two poor little kids." "They are both discharged. Mr. Clearstarch, you will get your purse audringof the clerk. One thing more - you'll not find the whole amount. The cashier of the Crawford restaurant just sent me a note, telling how the two little unfortunates enjoyed their Thanksgiving dinner at his place yesterday. Of course, having recoveretl your property, you will willingly doüato that dinner for charitv's sake Next." The Rev. Abraham Clearstarch got his purse and ring, and went on his way. And Bottles and Rags found in akindly stranger who had been present a friend iu whom philanthropy was largely developed. The pair are, this day of Thanksgiving, eating a noble dinner at a home in one of our great western states. At last the two waifs, Bottles and Rags, aresafely harbored from thesterner blows of poverty.- H. S. Keiler in Commercial Travelers' Magazine.