Burnham Breaker | Page 5

aroun' the city. It was pirty near

afternoon 'fore I got out where the fields is, an' then a woman, she give
me sumpthin' to eat. I wanted to git away from the city fur's I could, an'
day-times I walked fast, an' nights I slep' under the big trees, an' folks
in the houses along the road, they give me things to eat. An' then a
circus came along, an' the man on the tiger wagon he give me a ride, an'
then I went everywhere with the circus, an' I worked for 'em, oh! for a
good many days; I worked real hard too, a-doin' everything, an' they
never let me go into their show but once, only jest once. Well, w'en we
got here to Scranton I got sick, an' they wouldn't take me no furder
'cause I wasn't any good to 'em, an' they went off an' lef me, an' nex'
mornin' I laid down up there along the road a-cryin' an' a-feelin' awful
bad, an' then Uncle Billy, he happened to come that way, an' he foun'
me an' took me home with him. He lives in part o' Widow Maloney's
house, you know, an' he ain't got nobody but me, an' I ain't got nobody
but him, an' we live together. That's why they call him Bachelor Billy,
'cause he ain't never got married. Oh! he's been awful good to me,
Uncle Billy has, awful good!" And the boy looked out again musingly
into the blue distance.
The man had not once stirred during this recital. His eyes had been
fixed on the boy's face, and he had listened with intense interest.
"Well, Ralph," he said, "that is indeed a strange story. And is that all
you know about yourself? Have you no clew to your parentage or
birthplace?"
"No, sir; not any. That's what I want to find out when I git money
enough."
"How much money have you now?"
"About nine dollars, countin' what I'll save from nex' pay day."
"And how do you propose to proceed when you have money enough?"
"Hire a lawyer to 'vestigate. The lawyer he keeps half the money, an'
gives the other half of it to a 'tective, an' then the 'tective, he finds out
all about you. Uncle Billy says that's the way. He says if you git a good

smart lawyer you can find out 'most anything."
"And suppose you should find your parents, and they should be rich
and give you a great deal of money, how would you spend it?"
"Well, I don't know; I'd give a lot of it to Uncle Billy, I guess, an' some
to Widow Maloney, an'--an' I'd go to the circus, an'--but I wouldn't care
so much about the money, sir, if I could have folks like other boys have.
If I could only have a mother, that's what I want worst, a mother to kiss
me every day, an' be good to me that way, like mothers are, you know;
if I could only jest have that, I wouldn't want nothin' else, not never any
more."
The man turned his face away.
"And wouldn't you like to have a father too?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, I would; but I could git along without a father, a real father.
Uncle Billy's been a kind o' father to me; but I ain't never had no
mother, nor no sister; an' that's what I want now, an" I want 'em very
bad. Seems, sometimes, jes' as if I couldn't wait; jes' as if I couldn't
stan' it no longer 'thout 'em. Don't--don't you s'pose the things we can't
have is the things we want worst?"
"Yes, my boy: yes. You've spoken a truth as old as the ages. That
which I myself would give my fortune for I can never have. I mean my
little boy who--who died. I cannot have him back. His name too was
Ralph."
For a few moments there was silence in the screen-room. The child was
awed by the man's effort to suppress his deep emotion.
At last Ralph said, rising:--
"Well, I mus' go now an' tell Uncle Billy."
Mr. Burnham rose in his turn.
"Yes," he said, "you'll be late for the circus if you don't hurry. What!

you're not going? Oh! yes, you must go. Here, here's a silver dollar to
add to your identity fund; now you can afford to spend the quarter.
Yes," as the boy hesitated to accept the proffered money, "yes, you
must take it; you can pay it back, you know, when--when you come to
your own. And wait! I want to help you in that matter of establishing
your identity. Come to my office, and we'll talk it over. Let me see;
to-day is Tuesday. Friday we shall