"Then how did you get it?"
"We took it," said he.
"Took it! But the name,----?"
"Oh, we just took that, too."
Here was something new in the park-building line. I drew nearer. "I
wish you'd tell me about it," I asked.
"Sure, I'll tell," said he, and I could detect pride in the park in
both the young fellow's tone and manner. He tossed his quid down upon
the tan-bark. "Used to be a little old church standing here. Little
Jim church they called it, Queer name for a church, wasn't it? Damned
if I know why they named it that. For the last five or six years it
wasn't used at all, and last spring it just collapsed. The Hunkies come
scramblin' over it and carried away all the wood to burn, and what was
left was certainly a mess.
"Well, I don't know just who started the idea,--I guess it was John
Donohue and Jim Leary (they works around the rolls in the mill),--but
pretty soon a lot of us guys had decided it would be great if we could
clear up the place and make a park. So we started at the job, and when
any of us was laid off over at the mill we was workin' here. The iron
fence we got when they tore down part of Painter's Row,--it was just
old junk you know; the bricks 'round the flower beds were some left
over from buildin' a brewery down the street, we just helped ourselves
to 'em; the arch over the gate we made out of an old pipe; the
flag-pole there used to be a pump handle of a barge pump down on the
river,--we swiped that; the ball on top of the flag-pole a carpenter
give us. We chipped in and bought this tent, and we chipped in and
bought a flag. The first one was whipped to pieces by the wind and we
had to chip in and buy another before the summer was over. Then we set
out some flowers, splashed around with some paint and whitewash, and
the park was done. The name of the church seemed sorter to belong to
the place, so we called it 'Little Jim Park.'
"The park was what you might say opened on Decoration Day when the kids
come in and sang and performed. It was a great place for the kids to
play all summer, and a fine place for us to sit around of evenings and
chin and sing. Never had nothin' of the sort here before, you know. But
the big show here at Little Jim Park was Old Home Week, when we had it
all fixed up with buntin' and had it lit up of nights. I guess the park
ain't much to look at just now, for the geraniums have all been took
up, and the fellows are takin' care of 'em in their houses through the
winter. But in summer, when the flowers are out, and things are fixed
up, I tell you what Little Jim Park looks mighty good to Painter's Row!"
* * * * *
Somehow, when he had finished, this little park, a park _by_ the
people, seemed to be a thousand fold more beautiful, a thousand fold
more significant. It and the great mill stood there in striking
contrast; the mill and the houses expressing the indifference of the
company to its human machines, the park the spontaneous expression of a
great native desire, though choked down by long hours and the general
oppressive dinginess,--the up-reaching, outreaching desire of the
people for light, for air, for natural happiness, for development.
[Illustration: _Drawn by Joseph Stella._