Ellis Parker Butler

“ But it was when it came to fighting that Red Head had proved his right to the worship of the world. He could lick any two boys in the school. The Governor, who was plain Willie Gary then, could not fight at all. His early youth was one great fear of being whipped. The smallest boys in the school were accustomed to practice on him until they gained sufficient dexterity or courage to attack one another. He had a hundred opprobrious nicknames, which he accepted meekly. “Cry-baby” was the favorite. ”

“ It went very hard with the boy's mother and wife. It went hard with his old man, too. It is a cruel thing to have one's only boy in the penitentiary, even if one is only a village hod carrier.
Maggie Murphy, the boy's wife, did not suffer for food or shelter after the boy went to wear stripes, for old Mike had a handy little roll in the bank and a shanty of his own, and he took Maggie into his home and made a daughter of her; but the girl grew thin and had no spirits. ”

“ They saw that he was not, and they waited respectfully as Red Head and Willie walked away.
Willie went with Red Head to drive the cow home, and Red Head taught him how to double up his fist for battle according to the traditions of the school, with the knuckle of the second finger protruded.
“You jist do that,” he explained, “an' you can hurt 'em worse. An' if they fight back, kick 'em in the legs. That's how I do. Why, you're as big as I am, an' I bet you're jist as strong. You jist stand up to 'em. There ain't nothin' in fightin' when you know how. ”

“ With his load of shame, he slunk out of the gate and crept to school, hugging the fences and making himself as insignificant and small as possible, walking with short steps to avoid the endless “whist—whist” of the corduroy. ”

“ His eyes strayed from the old man's face, and their glance was lost in the air above his head. He smiled again, as he sat with the fingers of his left hand pressing the thin skin into a roll above his cheek bone, for he recalled an incident of his boyhood.
The Governor had once been an arrant little coward. His mother lived in the big white house two blocks above the schoolhouse, on the opposite side of the street. Red Head Mike lived across the alley in a shanty. The Governor's mother bought milk of Mrs. Murphy, and Red Head brought it every evening.
Red Head was a wonderful boy. ”

“ As for the boy's mother, it was to be expected that she would weep also. Mothers have a way of weeping over the son they love, even if he has gone wrong. It is not logical, but it is a fact. It is one of the grand facts of human life.
When Maggie's baby came the boy's mother could stand it no longer. It had been urged—and there was some evidence to support it—that the boy had acted in self-defense. ”