Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, October 16, 1914, Page 2

PAGE TWO THE PASSING OF JIM —— By B. T. KAHMANN. L ————————— - ] (Copyright, by Dally Story Pub. Co.) We all liked Jim; not a man in the whole camp who was not his friend. The first time Jim made his appear- ance was on a chill Beptember morn- ing. I was walking to the mine when I heard a cheery whistle, and, turning, beheld a tall, stalwart young fellow, dark eyes, a smiling mouth, and at once I took a fancy to him. I smiled involuntarily and held forth my hand. He grasped it eager ly and, shaking it, turned his head as if to hide his emotion. “You are the first man to treat me like this, and you ain’t never going to regret it.” “I ralsed my eyes, looked at the firm, square jaw, and into the honest face, and answered: “I know I shall not.” From that day Jim remained. He was always Jim; no one knew him by any other name, and he offered no explanations. No one asked who he was, where he came from, what he had done, or how long he intended to stay. They all met him quietly and gladly accepted his presence, and soon every man, woman and child was his own particular friend. Jim was no model, not by any means. He loved to stand before the ‘Golden Gate bar, most of his earnings going to that source, but he never indulged too freely, and he was never known to be seen under the influence of liquor. He was fond of playing, oards being one of his favorite amuse- ments. He was much delighted when he won, but he always played falrly and squarely, and was never aoocused of cheating. The little children in pnrtlcu.lar] loved Jim. He was wont to sit with | & dozen or more perched about him, one on each knee, some leaning con- fidently against him; all eagerly lis- tening to some tale which he could so skillfully invent. Many a trinket found its way into their homes, and it was always Jim's deed. One bright and sunny morning a group of men were leaning and loung- ing in the Golden Gate bar. Jim and I were at a table playing cards. “The devil! I've won again!” crled Jim, slapping his knee in delight. “I bet that is the last game you ever win,” I retorted jokingly. Scarcely had I spoken when the door was flung open and a man, pant- ing and breathless, threw himself into the room. “The dam in the mine has siven way.” “Great God!” The cards slipped from my hands as 1 realized the ter-l | CECH 2w b 3 2 b b G2 B P S IR EES S S SN F PSSP OEPE S S HPOUBPEE il Sallnlin . o rible meaning of his words. ‘THE EVENING TELEGRAM 1A} ELAND, FLA, OCT. 16, 1914. sweetly for you as if there had been “The miners will be drowned like | ;o yym » rats in.a trap; there ain’t no way to get out,” the man continued. I saw Jim turn pale as he put down the cards. He seemed to study for a moment, then rose, saying: “Yes, there 18 a way, only one way; they can’t get out of the east shaft, be- cause that is blocked by the breaking of the dam, but the wall, by breaking that the pressure of the water will be released, the water will rush through the opening, and a few hours’ work will set them free.” “Do you know what it means to break that wall? Death for the one who attempts it. The water will surge out with such a tremendous force, tak- ing everything in its way, and the man —he would scarcely have time to realize his fate.” He did not flinch; he acted as it there were no need for excitement, as if it were an every-day affair. “You spoke truly when you said that was my last game of cards. It is, pal, for Jim will never hold another ace.” “What do you mean?” “l mean that that wall must be broken, and I am the man to break it, and I don’t think it is likely that I shall ever play after that.” “Jim, you are crazy!” The exclama- tion came in chorus from the crowd around him. “Oh, no I ain't; done.” We sprang forward, grasping him by the arms, but he shook himself free. “Let me go, boys, of what good am I anyway? my life. Why not let me do this? You can’t go; you have all got wives and children. Think of them and of the men in the mine, struggling for life and freedom, with that awful death in store for them. If no one goes and helps, hundreds, your best friends and all, will drown in the mine, when they can be so easily saved. What is the cost of one life when it will save hundreds? Who will mourn and weep when they bring me back so cold and still? There won’t be any tears, because there 18 no one who cares, and if those hundreds perish, how great will be the ruin and disaster? You must let me go. Look! see those mothers, Listen to the songs upon their lipa and see their smiling faces. Will they ever smile or sing if their husbands do not return tonight? See the little children; who will care for them it the father comes no more? What will those women so utterly helpless and dependent, what will they do it sume one is not willing to take the risk? And then look at me. Will they be sad when I am gone? No. Will they be deprived of any delight and joy when Jim {s hidden? No. Oh! you may be sorry, but that will vanish and soon the sun will shine just as drightly, the birds sing just as it's got to be T handsaw. I I never dld anything in: We invite your next 6rder Telephone Number 37 B o e R A 0 AR S o Ao SR M s M oo st S S0 N B A lump which I could not swallow came into my throat and the others ° hid their faces. He looked 8o young and boyish, so strong and full of life, ' that to think of him still in death chilled our very hearts and minds. “I ain’t 80 good that I like to think of dying, but it has got to be. One or & hundred. One would be much bet- | ter. You have all been mighty good : to me, and I want to thank you. Think kindly of me, boys, and—and don't forget too soon, as I like to be re- membered.” He slowly shook hands with us, one by one. The lips of the boys were drawn and it seemed to me that I was committing a crime. Just as he held my hand a_sunny-faced girl ran up to Jim. “We wants a tory,” she lisped. He stooped and tossed her into the alr. “Jim won't tell stories any more. Jim's going away.” “No, Jim shan’t go,” she sobbed, ! clasping him about the neck as if to prevent. “Where {8 Jim going?” “Way off, where they don’t worry and where they ain't down on a man because he ain’t rich and great; where everything is so nice and sweet, and where even Jim can learn to be good.” The child stared at him in amaze- ment. “That must be heaven, Jim!” “It 18 heaven, I hope, and some day you will meet me over there.” He kissed her eoftly, placing her upon the ground, while she ran to tell the rest. “Follow me, but don't try to help.” He hastened to the door, sprang upon the back of his mare and turned. His face was lighted with a smile, but it was tranfixed with a new radlance. The face of the rough miner was made beautiful by the greatness and mightiness of his deed and sacrifice. We followed, and as we waited we could hear the thud, thud, thud of his hammer and the grating of his chisel, and even the falling of stone. He began to whistle the same old tune he loved so well—an old church hymn. We stood with bowed heads and beating hearts waiting for the end. Then came a horrible, intense, deathlike stillness, which was quick- ly answered by a terrific explosion and report, as if a hundred cannons had gone off. The sound was that of a rock-crusher, as the stone. fell, and the pieces of coal and dirt went seeth- ing past. Then again the silence, the ebbing and swirling of black, dark wa- ters as they poured forth, rushing out, pell mell. We stood, hoping against hope, yet knowing all the time how utterly use- less it was. Presently we caught sight of a hand and his body floated to us. The dark face was partly crushed and discolored with blood, but there was a smile upon his lips. 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TODD, Mg, FUPPFOPOFOFOTOECLIODGPOPOL OO Q7L 2L IO FAIQTRPQ S0 0P EFLEOBLDPOBIFOT 010 2 gy FROBUEOIATOTIFIE SOPDOH P FAFUONDAIIFO IO TATAI OB bowels, as tne sequel of disease (par- o ticularly infectious diseases) and of fed;” obfected old Billikin, metal polson, such as lead. 8o, work: *"Some of 'em hain't" gjg ing at might or in dark buildings or and closed the door after him, dark rooms is injurious to the blood. Long after midnight, in the swellest cafe, Zeke was sti] YOUTH TRUE TO HIS PLEDGE the chickens.—Detroit Free Prey, Stuck to the Truth In His Allel‘tltml cs to His Purpose for the Evening. had saved the minérs and Jim haa | passed to his reward in the Great Beyond. | CHIEF CAUSES OF FATIGUE Bad Ventilation and Altitude Are the Main Factors in Producing This Depression. Unusual, “Anything new?"” asked the repy “Yes,” replied the desk sq Camp meeting was in full blast. A Man and a woman were Sounds of shouting filled the air. Sud- SMashed up in an automobile denly Zeke Billikin, Farmer Billikin's @ little while ago. . “incorrigible” son, leaped to his teetl .,;3:‘t:;p"’:":ne::zag:g; ¥ with tears streaming from his eyes. | __ ¢ A% e inary :;eln;le:::‘rence with the circulation of N1 gt 161 1 dot b" he exulted "Pm She was his wife.” The two factors which relate espe., throuch with my evil ways. From this clally to diminished amount of oxygen day forih I vow to speak the truth and | !in the atmosphere are bad ventilation | nothing but the truth! and altitude. The main effect of bad| ‘“Zeke,” said his father feelingly ventilation, especlally where there are after supper that night, “I was right , & number of people in a room, is to in.| €lad to hear you speak out in meetin' crease the humidity. The detrimental | that there way today. It warms my ‘ efféct of this humidity is of more {m- | 0ld heart to think that at last my son | portance than any diminishing of oxy-|1s & good boy and will speak nothing | but the truth. Suppose you start in | 8en or increase in carbon dioxide. | In industry one is more concerned, | right now by telling me where you are going tonight?” { however, with the diminished oxygen- ! carrying power of the blood. Anemia! Zeke settled his hat on his head. |18 produced by a variety of causes,| “Pap,I'll tell you the truth and noth- { among which are deficient light, insuf. | {0’ else, like I swore. I'm jest gotn’ ficlent iron in the blood, insufficient!out to feed the chickens. i yarlety of food, irregularity of the ~“Lu'- Zeke, the chickens has been Fatigue is caused by anything that i Interferes with the carrying of oxygen . to the tissues. This may be a dimin- , Ished amount of oxygen in the at- ! mosphere, diminished carrying power i of the blood, diminished lung capacity No Inducement. “Madame Imhoff’'s engagement the Palace last night was billeds farewell appearance there.” “Pshaw! 1 dare say she wil back again next year.” “No, she won't either. The totl celpts were only $27.50." Didn't Have It, Anyway, Servant (returned from e They don’t keep it, mum. Mistress—Don't keep what, 8.—What you told me to get, m M.—What was that? S.—Dunno, mum, I forgot. Lakeland Evening Telegram The Lakeland News For every kind of printing we Your printing, The paper will be hacked out with a t stylish faces; the nor be daubed with too much ink. $PEM920000000000 000090 Evening Telegram Building First House on Main Street @ At the Head of Things