Little Lije's “Chanct”: A Story

—

Little Lije's "Chanct"

By Harold Jennings

His father had been Big No-Chanct Lige Mozinge, but now he was dead, and the Mozinge family were in sore straits. Not that they knew it. To them life was very much as it had always been. They had heard all their lives that the world was made — up of two classes heard it many times from the lips of Big Lije himself: "Yes, sir," he would proclaim, "there's just two classes them that has a chanct, and them that hasn't. I'm one of them that never had no chanct, and I ain't expecting nothing. However, I do get my daily bread." He was quite right as to his assertion of what he got. It was literally bread and little else. Once in a while the neighbors contributed something to vary his meager diet, but much as the Mozinges appreciated the kindness, they were never stirred to any endeavor to provide something extra for themselves. "Ain't I ever going to have no chanct, pa?" Little Lije had asked one day. " 'Course you ain't, son," was the reply. "Do you want to be better than your own pa? That wouldn't be respectful nohow. And just you remember that all the uppish folks in the world is them that's had chances. And uppish folks is powerful r'ilin' to get along with. For why? They're always looking down on other folks." "But, pa," Little Lije said, "I don't just natchully and partic'larly hanker after bread and nothing else. Air you sure there ain't no chanct for me? 'Cause if there is, I would like to get holt of it." Then Big Lije had risen in wrath. "I was always proud of you before," he said. "Proud to have you for my son and to have called you Little Lije. But I warn you now, don't let me ever hear any more of this foolishness." Little Lije sighed. "I wasn't feeling uppish," he said humbly. "I was only thinking how good meat and taters was, and currant jell.'" "I see," answered Big Lije, kindly. "Young ones like you will hanker after goodies to eat. You'll get over it, and take to bread like a master hand when you onct get where you can see that you ain't got no chanct."

LITTLE LIJE'S "CHANCT" 337

This conversation, and others similar to it, had been overheard not only by Mrs. Mozinge, a dejected looking woman, but by all the seven children. And now that Big Lije had died, they could see no change in their condition, except that they had lost their guide and friend. "How did he die?" someone had asked Mrs. Mozinge. "Why, it was this a-way. He had been a-fishin'. He was a most industrious man when it came to going fishing. And he was a-crossing the river on the stones at the ford when he slipped off into the water; and he seen he didn't have no chanct to save himself, so he just drowned." Little Lije at this time was fourteen — thin, and scrawny, and leaden-eyed. "I'll bet," said old Lott McHarry, "that I'll wake up Little Lije and make something out of him." Young Gerard Carleton, to whom he made the remark, laughed long and loud. "You needn't laugh, Gerry," said the old man. "I mean it. We've had a long siege with Big Lije, and at times I have seen a light in his boy's eye. I bet you I wake him up." "Put up your stakes, Uncle Lott," laughed Gerry. "I ain't putting up stakes, and you know it. That ain't the kind of betting I do. I just bet with nothing to win or lose." "Oh! you mean you just say, you bet." "That's about the size of it. Being a church member I couldn't nowise pass money either way, on a bet." Thus encouraged, Mr. McHarry went along. He lived quite in the outskirts of the town of Silverberg, and just beyond, the Mozinges lived in a little shack which they called home. It was now fall, and Mr. McHarry proceeded to call Little Lije to a conference. Wondering, the boy came. "Little Lije," began the old man, "I suspect that you've the notion that you've got no chance in your life." Little Lije nodded, "That's what pa said," he answered. "The chance I'm going to give you," said Mr. McHarry with deliberation, "is the chance to make something off of this here lot we're standing on. If you can make a thousand dollars off of it in ten years, I'll make you a deed of it. I'm bound to give you a start in life, if I can. Land knows you need it, but you're a far more promising object than some I could name, and that other folks spends money freely on." To this speech Little Lije made no immediate reply. If Mr. McHarry said this was a chance, it must be one. At last he said, "I don't know what to do with no such a chanct as that." For a moment Mr. McHarry looked disgusted. Then he patiently began to explain. He told him he might have the lot

338 IMPROVEMENT ERA

plowed up and put into crops of some sort or other, or he might plant it to small fruits, or he might use it as a pasture or chicken yard. "I reck'n I might," observed Little Lije, when Mr. McHarry had ceased speaking. "I don't believe pa would want me to crop it. He always said raising taters and such brought on the backache powerful. And I don't believe pa thought much of cm-rant bushes, and blackberry bushes, neither. He said them that had thorns was pesky things, and the others wasn't much better. He never said anything about cows and chickens, so I reck'n I better take to them." Mr. McHarry showed his relief at this. "Now I'll tell you what to do. I'll put a well on the lot so's you'll have plenty of water, and you can pay me back for it." That night there was bewilderment in the Mozinge shack. The old familiar theories of Big Lije were to be cast aside by Little Lije. He had a chanct, and that chanct was chickens and eggs. "Chickens is high, and so is eggs," observed Mrs. Mozinge. "How'll you ever have the face to charge four cents for one egg when you get it, I can't see." "Yes, ma'am," replied Little Lije respectfully, I recken I will. Old Mr. McHarry he said I had the making of a man in me. He seen it in my eye." "With what you get for selling chickens and eggs, I recken we can buy a few taters, if you're willing," replied Mrs. Mozinge thoughtfully. Slowly, very slowly, it penetrated to his mind that this was a perfectly feasible plan, Lije looked at his mother admiringly. "Mv, but you're the beater to think up how to get things," he said. As the glorious autumn went along, it was borne in on the family that it was going to take an immense amount of money to build a proper chicken-house and to provide small coops for the newly hatched fowl. "He'll never make it alone, ma," tearfully exclaimed Susan Martha. "He's the best boy that ever lived, but he just naturally can't make it alone. Can't I get jobs if I want to give him the money?" "Well, Susan Martha," answered Mrs. Mozinge after due nothing to hinder me from also reflection, "I really dont' see helping Little Lije. I don't believe your pa would have no serious objection. 'Tain't like you was a risking getting uppish and brassy by getting after a chanct of your own. And now all the other brothers and sisters were suddenly consumed with desire to help Lije ; if they had no chance them-