Little Jerry.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 481, 18 June 1890, Page 3

Little Jerry.

By Joseph Kirkland, Author of ‘Zury,’ ‘The McVeys,” &c.

[Copyright, 1890, by S. S. McClure.] Little Jerry was a great little boy. He lived in Buckram, 0., where people go to get to the Deaf-Mute Asylum, which you can see from the schoolhouse steps. hen he told people in Toledo that he came from Buckram they were apt to ask him if he was deaf and dumb, which he thought was very foolish, because if he had been he could nob have heard the question nor answered it, so it was of no use to ask it.

People used to say, 4 Little Jerry is little, bub oh, my !’ He liked that : because he know they meant that his shortness (which was a grief to him) did not make him of no account. He knew as well as anybody that he had gob to try extra hard all his life in every way, if he wanted to make up for being so small. One happy day a minister who was visiting Jerry’s mother made Jerry glad, and gave him what was a comfort to him ever after by telling a verse made up by Dr. Watts, bub not printed in the hymnbook. It was : Could I in stature reach the pole, Or grasp creation in a span. I’d still be reckoned by my soul: gjThe mind’s the measure of the man !

How he did glory in this splendid piece of poetry ! He talked it to himself whenever he had nothing else to think of, and walked many a mile and ran many a mile keeping step to those words. When he went for the cows, and had hard work to keep the mare from jumping over the bars and coming to the barn with them, he would shout them out to the mare, when she burned back—she so big and he so little, and yet she having to give in bo him ! Of course it was pretty hard in school to be always the smallest boy in his class. Whenever a new boy came he hoped he would be a little smaller ; but he never was, or if he was he went into a younger class ; and sometimes, although a new boy was bigger, he went into a younger class. Even Jerry’s favourite verse of poetry did him no good, because when he said it at recess they all laughed. They twisted it all ways ; said the mind was the measure of the pole and the pole was the measure of the pan, and the mole was the measure of the man, and more things than you can think of. Jerry knew they were foolish, bub what of that? They didn’t know so. He had hard work to keep from crying, so he tried biting his lip bill it hurt, resolved to bite till the blood came, if he could not keep it in any other way. And just before the blood would have come the tears went back. Bub his mother must have seen something in his face when he got home, for she said : * What's the matter, my son ?’

* Nothing, mother.’ \ Then in a little while she stopped still, with a plate in one hand and a towel in the other, and said : ‘ Has anybody been abusing my boy ?’ ‘No, mother; no.’ He sat with his feet on the stove-hearth and his arithmetic in his lap, but he couldn’t keep his mind on the sum at all. At last, when he thought she had forgotten whatever she thought at nvst, he said : ‘ Mother, what is the reason that boys who are a little younger than I am are a little larger than I am ? She did not answer, bat wiped her hands on the towel and hung it up, and then came and put her arms around him, and he could hear her swallowing very fast, while her cheek Celt wet against his.

* Is my blessing unhappy ?’ He tried to say no, but could not force down the lump in his throat. So they sat a little while, and then she said : 'lsn’t it a comfort to my boy that his mother loves him better than anything iu the world ?’

Jerry said it was and kissed her and went out of doors. When he got into the open air he had to own to himself that her pity was no oomfort at all ; not one bit; just because it was pity. Pity can help pain or grief, but not mortification. It is only more mortifying. But in the evening his Uncle John suddenly said to him (of course his mother had spoken to Uncle): ‘ Jerry, do you know what I prophesy ?’ ‘No, uncle.’ * Well, I prophesy that some day you’ll show the folks the difference between bigness and greatness.’ That was comfort; and Jerry went to sleep thinking ‘ bigness and greatness ‘he’s little, but, oh, my!’ ‘the mind is the measure of the man. 9 And the next time the question of size came up in school he got the laugh on a great big stupid by saying :

«Big Bill Grimes, if you had my mind in your body you’d be Governor of Ohio in a few minutes.’ And Bill was mad. It was pretty hard to play with the other fellows. Long legs can outrun short ones ; little hands cannot do much with a baseball, nor shovt arms with a bat. Choosing sides, Jerry was always chosen last, and if there was an odd number he was the one left out. Bub back of their house there was a little stream —more like a ditch, through the hollow —and there he built a dam, and on the bank below the dam he made flumes to pour the water back iuto the ditch in lovely cascades, and under each cascade he set up a little paddle-wheel with square shaft and shingle paddles whittled out by himself. To this day his left forefinger knuckle shows a network of scars intersecting each other; each the memento of some time whan his knife slipped and the blood flowed dripping off the end of his finger until it got tired of flowing : and his dear mother sewed up the finger in a rag, white when it was pub on, and so awfully grimy when it came off again a few days later. Sweeter music never struck a boy’s ears than the patter - patter - patter- patter of those paddle wheels. He could lie on that bank all a summer Sunday afternoon dreaming of—oh, it is impossible to tell all the fine thoughts ! Mechanical inventions, fortunes earned, poems written, heroic deeds done, conquests over nature and circumstances. Ho could even go to sleep, and wake up again to hear the sweet patter-patter-patter-patter ; and, surprised to see how iow the sun had got, run home in time to go for the cows and not keep supper waiting very long. The great question every morning was whether the wheels had really gone all night, or whether the dam had sprung a leak or some other accident had cut short the lovely operation. He approached the place slowly, always listening before he looked ; and occasionally—not very oftenfound that the patter-patter had actually continued all through the silent hours of absence, darkness, dawn, sunrise and morning ! - But one day he approached in his usual silence ; came nearer and nearer ; no sound —he looked, and — The whole dam was wantonly destroyed, the top sods thrown out on the bank, the rest carried down stream, the nicely framed board flumes broken and trodden into the mud and the wheels carried bodily away. His anger began, increased, grew overwhelming, until the fury possessed him frightened him, and he said to himself : * This will never do. Such a feeling might lead a man to murder another.’ Then set his teeth together and went home to breakfast quite calmly. * Why don’t you eat your breakfast, Jerry ?’ ‘I do, mother.’ (A few mouthfuls that stick in Jerry’s throat.) 4 How is your mill-dam, Jerry ?’ ‘ Gone.’ ‘Broken? Why there hasn’b been any rain !’

Jerry tries to swallow the lump, winks very fast and shakes his head. At last he says, very loud : 4 Somebody ’ But the next thing is he jumps up and runs out of doors for fear his mother will hug him and cry over him.

At school he observes some secreto excitement all around, and at noon-spell a friend whispers : ‘Big Bill has gob one of your waterwheels in his pocket.’

What could he do? Attack the great brute and get a beating in addition to the other injury? Complain to the teachers? Appeal to the other boys? Complain to Big Bill’s low father? Tell his own mother? All vain, vain, impossible, useless. The weak and inoffensive are the sport and prey of the strong oppressor; men side with the wicked, and God lets him flourish. He asked his Uncle John’s advice.

‘ Well, Jerry, I’d like to catch Big Bill and lace him within an inch of his life. If you say so I’ll go and see his father and tell him about it and that if he doesn’t lick Bill I will. What do you say ?’ The picture of Bill writhing and howling under merited punishment was very alluring. But then not coming straight from him, the injured one, it would not be perfect. Then, too, Bill’s father, Captain Grimes, was a strong, tall, long-armed, hard-hitting gang foreman, who had stopped a fight in the gang by knocking down both combatants. He had been made Captain of the Buckram Artillery because he could crook his elbow under the muzzle of the cannon and lift the wheels right off the ground. Suppose—but that would be too dreadful! So Jerry just shook his head in silence. • Then, Jerry, there’s another way to look at it. This is a good chance for you to show manliness, endurance, ability to keep cool and bide your time.’ So thought Jerry and so he did. And in fact he noticed in the days that followed that the boys didn’t side with Big Bill so awfully much. A good many paid more attention to him than they did to Bill. Fourth of July was at hand. There was to be a picnic in the asylum grounds, singing, band-playing, speeches, cannon-firing and dinner in the erove. The deaf-and-dumbs would march in procession and some of the older ones go f'.’ough their silent pantomime theatricals. Jerry got up the mare when he turned ore the cows, and after rubbing her down and giving her a feed of corn she looked really pretty well when she was hitched bo the waggon. (Some strings showed where the harness was mended, but Jerry inked them all over.) Mother and Uncle John and he gob in and drove to the grounds wibh all the other folks on root and in waggons and carriages; more than the road would hold almost. After Dolly was tied to the fence uncle took the baskeb in one hand and the cold coffee in the ocher, and mother took the shawls. ‘Jerry, you bring the umbrella.’ «Oh, mother ! The old, big umbrella V * Jerry 1 My son !' ‘ But mother, it’s almost as tall as I am. ‘ Very well, Jerry. Give ic to me. 111 carry it. 9 And she threw all the wraps over on her other arm and held out her hand. Of course, Jerry kept the horrid old umbrella. Uncle John and mother went straight on towards the picnic harbour, but Jerry lingered to see the crowd gather. A few minutes later he was sorry he had done so,tor big Bill Grimes came along and shouted : ‘ Hello, Old Umberell! Where ye going with thatleetle boy? 5 The people filled the grounds. The cannon was standing, loaded and ready, a little way back ; its horses, harnessed to the limber, stationed not far behind it. Tjc® long procession of deaf-and-dumbs of all sizes, oldest at the front and the small toddlers (a great deal shorter, some of them, even than Jerry) following after. Some of the oldest of them were scattered along the line to keep the others in order, while the headmasters led the array and the other teachers brought up the rear. It was a glorious | sight, altogether. ‘ Bang!’ That’s the signal for the beginning of the celebration. How the people near the cannon are shouting and screaming. Bub what is it they are saying ? ‘ Heigh ! Heigh ! Whoa ! Whoa ! Stop them hosscs! Stop ’em before they kill somebody!’

The team, witkAthe heavy two-wheeled limber behind thorn, have been started by the cannon shot and are tearing along at full gallop right this way. Jerry isn t Lightened—he can get out of the way easily enough, bub—oil dear !—they are headed right for the middle of the line of the poor deaf-and-dumbs who can’t hear a word ! There comes the Principal running back and waving his arms ; but they only look at him, nob behind them. Can Jerry get to the line and make a break in it before the team gets there? He can try. Run, run, run, Jerry, to save those helpless innocents ! If it were’nt for the horrid big umbrella —but if he drops it they 11 run over it! Big Bill could save ’em if he had sense enough. This is a case where mind doesn’t help, does it ? Doesn't it ? Quick as a flash, mind comes to the rescue, and matter takes a back seat, where it belongs. , Jerry hears the rattle of harness behind him (the wheels are almost silent on the sobt ground), he turns, faces the crazy horses, stoops down between their course and the line of children, grasps the umbrella handle with his right hand, shakes it loose as he has done so many, many times before, and when they are almost on to him opens it wide and The near horse swerves across the course of the other, who runs him down and falls over him. There they lie in a struggling heap, the limber swung half round, turned over on its side, and the cartridges all rolling and tumbling out of the box. 4 Glad I had the old umbrella, after all, he thinks as he shuts it up. ‘ But what are they all making such a "uss about? Here comes Capt. Crimes, looking as if he were crazy ! Is he mad because I scared his team ? They’d have killed a lot of the deaf-and-dumb in less than a quarter of a minute. And here comes the Principal, shouting “ Where’s the boy with the umbrella?’ He won’t blame me anyhow !” Capt. G’’imes gets to him first, seizes him by the arms, hugs him and lifts him up square on his back, one short leg over each shoulder. And he shouts : ‘ Here you are, Professor! Here’s the young hero ! That's the kind of a boy we grow on the Western Reserve.’ 4 Capt. Grimes, hadn’t you better put me down and tend to your horses ?’ 4 Oh, hang the horses !’ (He didn’t Bay ‘ hang,’ but be was a rough man, though ha had a good heart.) Why, if you’ll believe me, they made Jerry sib on the platform, umbrella and all, and whenever they spoke of him the people cheered until they were hoarse, and he could see his mother sitting with her handkerchief to her eyes almost all the time while people kept crowding around and shaking hands with her and Uncle John ; and uncle was fairly red in the face with cheering and excitement. Jerry was. glad when eating time came and he could go to his mother and give Uncle John the umbrella, because uncle had nothing to carry now. Only he felt foolish at the top of the long Cable when the people all banged their knives on the table and the band played: See. the Conquering Hero Comes. Any time while Capt. Grimes was carrying him pick-a-pack he could have whispered : 4 Bill spoiled my mill-dam.’ Bub he didn’t, and he has never said a word about it from that day to this. Joseph Kirkland.