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Tom Slade

Tom Slade

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 1824    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

s and

p to Ching Wo's laundry, opened the door, beat the counter with a resounding clamor, called, "Ching, Ching, Chinaman!" and

off a week. "Old John" never went down to the bank on Saturdays and Tom never went to school on Mondays. He began his school week on Tuesday; and the truant officer

rogram, which was to play some prank on Ching Wo. But Ching Wo, often disturbed, like a true philosopher, and knowing it

he single strand of suspender which he wore. The other half of this suspender belonged to his father; the two strands had originally formed a sing

eplaced, Tom shuffled along down

chunks of coal. A little farther on he came to a trolley car standing still. Sid

ew expletives after him. Tom then let fly one piece of coal after anothe

y picked up a stone. Not that he expected always to throw it, though he often did, but because it illustr

ch was likewise on an average of a dozen times a day) he would reach cautiously down behind

med him that throwing stones was despicable, which went in one ear and out the other, because Tom did not know what "despicable" meant. The priest h

his mind. On this day of Tom's wild exploits, as he moved along a little further down the street he came to the fence which enclos

notice the person who was standing quietly on the sidewalk wat

hould do that, my

s twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, looking pleasantly at him. He was extremely well-

made a start as if to do so. Then, fearing perhaps that

o with that?" asked the

rti

t at me, I hope, while I am s

"I wouldn't t'row no stone st

t sporting, haven't you? Though, of course, you're no

t he was lazy and shiftless and unkempt and a number of other things, for the world at large had made no bones of telling him so; but never, never for one moment had he sup

if he thought that he had inadvert

my boy, and let's see if we c

ty wid coal," said Tom, hard

ked out Tom's handiwork. "There," he added, handing back the coal, "that's not so bad now; guess neither one of us is much of an artist, hey? See th

rooting in the dirt all summer, and who got a scratch (which he proudly exhibited) from shinn

tinge of suspicion that he accompanied him along the street, casting furtive

up no tree," he p

companion. "I've shinned up more tre

ou was

And I'll give you a tip, too. Grind up

ed to a passer-by, the boy hitching up his suspender as often as it slid from his

arned to pitch much easier if it hadn't been for throwing stones when he was a kid. He used to be a regular fiend at it, and when

hool guys is

own a stone in ten years. But I bet I could practice f

er, I do

n't you?" the young man laughed. "Well, a kid can

gh arguments, goodness knows, in defense of his own habits, and his information was meagre enough. Yet the one

ou ever land a guy

ere may be. I landed a guy one in the temple with a stick last summer

d fascinated by the

hat's sure, and you can mark that up in your br

that coal

oo

steal an apple from Schmitt's Grocery, but instead he accompanied

s, did we?" the stranger s

t Tom Slade had grasped a

he said, hitchin

the Library building and see us so

boss o' them re

boss; scouts we

cout? A sol

fellow that does

r you kin

you said it! I've got some of those boy

y night and see us;

trange fascination for the boy, and it was not till the door closed behind

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