---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Jennings, Harold
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 20
number: 4
published: 1917-02
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: "Harold Jennings, \"Little Lije's “Chanct”: A Story,\" *Improvement Era* 20, no. 4 (February 1917): 336–338."
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2004unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera2004unse
start_page: 336
end_page: 338
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1917-02)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2004unse
  publication_year: 1917
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1917, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Little Lije's “Chanct”: A Story

<!-- page:336 -->

—

               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."

<!-- page:337 -->

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

<!-- page:338 -->

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-
