The Loom of Destiny
terrible and a dangerous thing in the mind of a boy.
It was on his very first day in the open that he won for himself the name of Shanghai, or rather, the Shanghai Sharkey,—a name which stuck to him through a thousand battles.
He was, it is said, thus aptly christened because of his ragged stockings and tattered shoes, which, in the activities of warfare, looked strangely like the feathered limbs of some uncouth Shanghai rooster.
When the victorious boy, very bloody and very white, was helped home after his first fight, his exultant father's joy knew no bounds. The child himself, in his pride, accordingly forgot about his bleeding lip, and wondered why his mother should sit by the window and cry. That night, when her husband was asleep, she stole out of bed and crept stealthily over to the child's little couch, listening anxiously in the darkness to hear if he was still breathing. Timmie, whose head was beating like a drum, was awake, and saw her, but said nothing.
66
