the boy.

Ches was all amazement for a second; then he gave a glad cry.

"Gee! Yer still here, ain't yer? No pipe in dis." He looked all around
him. "Say! Dis is a reg'lar teeayter uf er place, ain't it?" he remarked.
"Dis is der scene where der villun almost gits der gent wid der sword, if
der stage mannecher didn't send sumun ter help 'im out."

Jim laughed at the sophisticated infant. "You don't believe in the
theater much, then, Ches?"

"Aggh!" replied Ches. "If it ain't seven it's 'leven on der stage--but
it's mostly craps in der street."

"Well, son, there are such points on the dice," admitted Jim. "But let's
have something to eat and we'll feel better."

Ches rustled around after sticks in his funny, angularly active style,
singing a song the while from the gladness of his heart. It was a merry
song, about mother slowly going down the hectic path of phthisis
pulmonalis, and sister, who has--one is led to believe--taken to small
bottles, small hours and undesirable companions, refusing to come home
and lift the mortgage which is shortly to be foreclosed--all in the
narrow confines of twenty-five verses.

Jim listened to the inspiriting ditty in astonishment.

"'Bird of the wilderness, blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!'"

he quoted. "For Heaven's sake, child," he continued, in some irritation,
"where did you learn that echo of the morgue?"

"Don't you like 'er?" asked Ches, in his turn astonished at such a lack
of taste. "W'y, dat's er gig in der city--everybuddy an' der ginnies wid
der organs is givin' dat out all day long."

"Well, let 'em," commanded Jim. "Don't introduce it to this part of the
country. As you render it, through the nose, and with the wail at the
end, it is a thing to make a strong man lie down and give up the ghost in
sheer disgust. Ches, does it really make you feel good to sing it?"

"Yessir--kinder," replied Ches hesitatingly.

"Lord!" thought Jim. "What a life, to make a song like that a
recreation!" Then aloud: "It's bad luck to sing before breakfast, Ches.
I'll teach you a livelier song than that when we hit the trail again."

So it came to pass that during the first miles of their day's journey the
way was enlivened by the notes of _The Arkansas Traveler_, _Garry Owen_,
_Where's My Linda-Cinda Gone?_, _Baltimore Girls_, and other songs of a
lively character.

Ches approved of these in moderation. Then Jim tried an