The Columbian fountain., 1846-02-25
EDITED AND
WASHINGTON,
For the Columbian Fountain


Mr.. EDITOR: The following incident is
no romance, no creature of the imagina-
ton, no ideal fantasm; but it is reality,
a startling reality, which occurred in the
eastern section Of this city about seven
winters ago. 1t was tragedy in which
the "rheumy and unpurged air Of a free
zing night performed the murderer: ! wit
messed the opening scene; but the closing
was visible to no eye save the all-seeing
eye Of God.
About seven winters ago, on Decem-
ber night, entered tavern in the eastern
section Of the city, and called for hot
whisky punch Il was freezing night,
and myriads Of twinklng orbs bedecke'l
the blue ethereal vault, in the centre Of
which hung the lamp Of night. This huge
Pllaros Of the skies shot forth its silveryv
beams upon the snow-shrouded earth, over
which the Northern Boreas swept his fit
full blasts, warning the traveller not g to
dare the vile contagion of the night" 1t
was about 10 o'clock, and was slipping at
the fatal bar the accursed nectar from the
damning chalice, when the latch of the
door was thrown up, the door opened, and
a human being crossed the threshold, and
stood within the room. Upon his head
was an old straw hat, upon his back hung
the tatters Of coat, upon his legs Auttered
the rags of summer wear, and his unhosetl
feet were thrust in shoes that admitted tb e
piercing cold: in his hand he held small |
bundle, which contained all his earthly pos :
sessions. His countenance was haggard !,
and bore an expression Of sorrow; and
the whole being was an object calculated
Ito arouse in his behalf the sympathetic feel
ings of the human breast. He stood for a
few moments trembling with the cold, and
then addressing the landlord, who stood
behind the bar, said:
"Sir, the night is very cold, and have
no place to stay will you be kind enough
then, sir, to allow me to lie by your stove
for this night?" 2
The unfeeling landlord looked at the
poor applicant, who was shivering with
cold, and menacingly replied:
Begone did Inot tell you not to show
yourself here again I"
% sir! do not thrust me from your door,
l will harm nothing. supplicated the poor
man, sit is cold night, and ! shall Freeze"
Begone p agained roared the landlord,
"leave the house instantly"
A tear glistened in the eye of the outcast:
as that inhuman command thundered upon
his ear he bent down his head, and looked
at the floor for few moments as if in
thought. He was communing with HIM
self, he was thinking probably of his old
mother, or of his wife and children, whom
he had left in another city to the cold cha
rity of the world; probably he was thinking
of those dear ones whom he loved, although
he was an outcast. The friendless man
heaved sigh, grasped his little bundle
more firmly, and then, opening the door,
issued forth into the world; to wander-he
knew not where.
During the next morning, an inquest was
held upon the body of man who had been
found dead on the banks of the canal 1t
was the body of the unfortunate outcast.
Overcome by the cold, the friendless man
sank down upon the snow, and, with a
thought of his dear wife and fond children,
closed his eyes in death, far, far away from
his home.
take this occasion, Mr.. Editor, to renew
assurances of profound esteem.
JAMES LITTLE.
Washington, d. c., Feb. %, 1916.
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From the Pledge and Standard.