Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 145 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

oad 10 ee ee too, he would fall into a sound repose for an hour or two, while basking in the sunlight, and this afternoon was no exception to the rule, for, after d ng the contents of several pa- pers, he off into a doze, with his hat slouched over his eyes. He had not been asleep for more than ten minutes, when Boss Bob and the Nondescript came along, and spied him. A grin of delight came upon the face of the Bootblack King, as he saw his enemy of the pre night, and he nudged the owl-faced vigorously. f D’ye see Mickey Angel-oh! the platform, *Script?” The Nondescript nodded. “Well, ’'m goin’ ter come a game on his nibs,” Bob said, witha nod. ‘Bet a clam I'll make him luk like a sarcus clown, afore I git thru wi’ him. Now you jest listen an’ I’ll let ye inter ther secret. D’ye see these?” And he drew a sponge and a half-filled bot le of re Ge from his ragged coat pocket. ** Well, ye see, this is what Mickey Angel-oh rfumed me with last night, an’ when you an’ oxy cum ter ther rescue, he probably stuffed it inter my pocket ont o’ sight. Leastways, I found et thar. Now, since old Mickey slumbers so placidly, ’m goin’ ter make him sleep er little placider, jest fer fun. Jest ye stay heer, now, an’ tell me when any one is comin’, an’ l’ll make Mickey Angel-oh! so purty he won’t prt hisself—a because he give me a lift, last night. he big eyes of the Nondescript parnlen with delight, as he nodded his assent; for he was as fond of practical joking as his eccentric com panion. The street on which the calico mills wer cated was built up with big factory buildings, used for various manufactures, and chanced to be deserted of pedestrians, at that hour. With a glance around him, Bob dashed some chloroform te the sponge, and mounting the steps to the platform where Mitchell was tipped back in his chair, sound asleep, he applied the sponge to the unsuspecting victim’s nose. It took but a couple of moments to accom- lish'‘the object,and Bob believed he had drugged the superintendent so that he would be power- less for an hour or so. Taking another glance at his surroundings to make sure he was not observed, he next drew a rusty but keen-edged peir of scissors from his pocket, and deliberately proceeded to shear off what hirsute covering vegetated upon Mitchell's face, finally accomplishing the job with a satis- fied chuckle, and receiving as his reward a grin of approbation from the Nondescript. Upon the conclusion of this performance the young gamin dod into the mill, and was ene several mi , finally returning with a Box con g several bottles of fancy color- ed inks, such as were used in printing calicoes. Armed with a pencilin idly decorated the countenance of the uncon- scious superintendent with the bright dyes, un- til his face looked a cross between that of a cir- cus clown and a full-blooded Sioux on the war- path. Bright crimson spots ornamented the cheeks; the nose had the deep bloom of a blood- red peony; the mouth was made to look as if stretched from ear to ear by the application of lip-colored dyes; the ears were green, the chin black, the forehead a variety of gay hues, Altogether, by the time the Bootblack King had finished, the countenance of Michael Angelo Mitchell was a_ brilliant specimen of the fres- coer’s art. Then it was that Boss Bob stood off a pace, and ed it with b § satisfaction, ‘‘ Hain’t he a reg’lar old up an’ down Centen- al beauty, tho’?” he laughed, addressing the Nondescript: “Better nor a valentine or a forty dons, two-sheet circus cul, or a penny chromo. onder what he’ll say when he luks in ther looking-glass? "Spect he’ll take hizself fer old Dan Rice on a lecture toor. Won’t the ls cod him tho’ ef they ketch him? S’pose we or across the sires reet, "Script, an’ enjoy ther n x And accordingly the two gamins hegan to cast about them Tuber and ‘ Just ‘and and brick f a-sittin’ there on | on!’’ Bob | } — brush, Boss Bob rap-. s0 very funn Ae oe — me a eee ee ee ee ee Spitz posdie began king es? Hush, Fido! What is the matter with you?” the lady cried, glancing around, The next instant, when just opposite, she spied the decorated superintendent, and utter- ing a scream fled quickly on, as if fearfulof me. sonal harm, and a wild hoot from Boss Bob seemed to increase her alarm, and she literally made the dust fly, so fast she ran, while Bob and the Nondescript lay back on the ground con- vulsed with laughter. “Oh! this is better than a Jersey watermel- , between spasms. ‘‘ Who comes next?” It proved to be a gang of young wharf ur- chins, with strings of fish in hand—a good half- score of them. A roar of laughter escaped them as they spied Mitchell, and a halt was the order. ‘*Shoot the clown—bad luck to him!” said ne. **He’s drunker than a bummer!” assured a second, ‘‘ Oh! ain’t he sweet! Say, boys, that’s Mitchell, w’ot fired us out o’ the mill one day. S’pose we plug him wid cuds o’ tobacco?” Accordingly, quids of that article were thrown at the superintendent’s phiz, most of them hitting him, and many of them sticking to his face, until he presented one of the worst les one could imagine! CHAPTER VIII. NEWS FOR JUDGE TURNOVER. Boss Bos and the Nondescript would not have been boys, if they did not hugely enjoy fia sport, and they indulged in subdued roars of ‘ter from their place of concealment. 9 young street urchins finally tired of their , and marched away, and Mitchell was not further molested until the six o’clock whistle blew, when a flock of girls came swarming from the mill and discovered the nobby superintend- ent, just as he had struggled to his feet, recov- ered from the effects of the chloroform. . “Oh! my—look at the clown!” cried one. ‘Girls, look! It’s the super,” added another. “* Hello! a igs i ty-sat-on-the wall!’’ a third vouchsafed, giving Mitchell a punch in the ribs. ‘‘What menagerie did you come from?” ‘* Faith, sure, it’s Barnum, so it is,” a big, raw- boned Irish girl declared.’ “Bedad, didn’t he dbrive mules for me Uncle Terrance O’ Shaugh- as yb! “Girls, what can this mean?” Flora Bacon cried, coming forward, ‘‘Don’t you see—it’s the pats otra Mr. Mitchell?’ - ’s the matter?” the superintendent roared, beginning to claw the quids of tobacco away, which stuck to different parts of his countenance. ‘‘ Who’s been peppering me with stale of tobacco? Curse you, what are you all grinning and tittering at? I see nothing to laugh at!” ‘ Bridget, bring the mirror from the office,” Flora ordered as she laughed, ‘‘and let the su- perintendent Jook at himself.” The Irish girl obeyed, and Mitchell gazed at the reflection of his decorated face, horror- struck with astonishment, a frightful oath final- ly escaping his’ lips. ‘‘ Were you, trying to impart the bloom of youth to your cheek, Mr. Mitchell, or are you practicing at scene painting?” Flora asked. “Ten thousand devils!” the superintendent roared, “Ihave been the victim of an accursed plot. Who did this? Show me the person, ate Did any of you girls do it, curses on you ‘No, the girls did not do it!” Flora Bacon cried. ‘‘ We have all beenin the mill. It has been some outside parties, who, seeing you sleeping here, as you usually do, have taken ad- vantage of the fact and wares a joke on you.” ‘* It’s a cursed thin joke!” Mitchell growled, “‘and I must: be thiek-headed to sleep so sound- ly. Call a policeman, some of you, and I'll have a search made. It’ be a dear job for who ever committed the outrage—a dear job, or Lam aninfernal liar.” . “Then. you didn’t really do it yourself, eh?” Flora asked, tantalizingly. fool,” was the sa “Of not, you nt retort. ‘Do you su d Se bens atten the meen = —— v e sake masquer Pave ld ea Fue th who did it, if my hands on him. ped B the likes of ’im, girruls?’ ex- yez, Misther Mitchell. It was thryin’ a curiosity aff yoursel’, ye waz, shure um’s Moosenm, an’ I Lather it, ‘bedad.” oO for , who instantly spied Mitchell, and | And then the girls troo Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. ——— 2 ped off down the street, leaving the unfortunate superintendent of the calico mills to get out of scrape as best he could. Having now laughed themselves hoarse, Boss Bob and the Nondescript concluded to get out of the neighborhood, which they did, by crossing eroues the lumber-yard to the adjoining street, The Philadelphia Star on the following morn- | ing had an item, as follows: ‘‘A well-known superintendent of a ci factory, while taking a snooze yesterday rnoon, was painted up in a most artistic manner, by some unknown practical joker, and the worst of the joke calico is that the dyes used obstinately refuse to yield te © the persu warning.” Judge Randolph Turnover, the miser-million- aire, lived in a handsome stone mansion in an aristocratic part of West Philadelphia, alone and uncared for, with the exception of a staid, reliable old English man-servant, who had been in his employ for over twenty years, The judge was a recluse from society, and quite unpopular, from the fact that he was not sociable to any one except those with whom business relations brought him in contact. Only a very few had ever boasted of an invi- tation to his home, but they spoke in flattering terms.of its magnificent and liberal adornments. In regard to wealth, the judge was said to have no end to it, owning, besides his extensive mills, other real estate, many shares in a street railway, and mining stocks. No one knew just what he was worth, but the wise ones consider- ed it safe enough to class him a millionaire. Although called a miser, because he was close and shrewd in business matters, he on of soap and water. ‘Snoozers’ take was eae as scrupulously honest, never having n known to take a penny that was not rightfully his own. Philanthropy was not one of his characteris- tics; yet he had often been known to give large sums of money to suffering families, that came under his notice, but decidedly refused to donate alms to funds to be disbursed by some “ institu- tion’ run by salaried officers. He was not an extremely old man, scarcly more than five and Seay ears having passed over his head; yet his streaked and whiskers were plainl with gray, and he walked with an fiir step, suppo by a cane, as might have become a man twenty years his senior. On the morning, or rather forenoon, following the events last narrated, the judge sat in his cosey Office in a block upon Chestnut street, en- gaged in looking over a morning paper, when e door oe and a visitor entered. The visitor was no less a personage than the Bootblack King, Boss Bob—ragged and dirty as ever, with bis feet bare, hat cocked upon one side of his face, a stub of a cigar in his mouth, and his blacking box slung upon his arm. The judge looked up with a frown from his newspaper, as he saw this genius of the street. Bootblacks seldom troubled him, from the fact that he never employed their services or toler- ated their solicitations, and therefore he natur- ally wondered why came this lad. ** Well, sir!” he said, stiffly, ‘I do not want my boots blacked, so you can retire, and be sure and close the door after you,” Boss Bob uttered a whistle denoting surprise, and deposited his anatomy into the handiest cushioned arm chair. “Who in blazes said ye wanted yer boots blacked?” he demanded, after eying the judge a moment. ‘‘ Didn’t say even ‘leather,’ when I made my grand entree, an’ heer you're givin’ me a invite ter bounce! S’pose a feller’s got *portant bizness—what then?’ Ae: You can me OS ue business with me,” — e rep an ve no time for trifling 50 ord better go.” Aig 0. * Bet a clam it'll take ther hull o’ aye gang to ery = me, afore I git ready,” clared. “ Allus was famuss hard ter git rid of, w’en I didn’t wanter go. So ye ’spect ’cause a feller ain’t a cut-ar dried fine-cut swell, he *t got no bizness ter tend ter, eh?’ “Tt is not usual for bootblacks te be over- burdened with important matters,” was the of 4 m what it is, if you are brief.” And ‘the millionaire’s eyes returned to the paper in front of Well, you're Turnover, I t yetthe “eee bony-fried article?” Bob aeked a urnover, sir. of it?’ “Oh! I ited ter be sure,” was fe inde- pendent reply. ‘‘ Allus be sure o’ yer p’int afore * é OOO) com (C S) com