The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-10-01
velInm and venerable folios.

his side, and | speculated on his past and on
his present, and what he had been, and what
he was doing. He was always in the same
place before | came. He never went out at
noon as did many of his fellow, students-re-
turning in half an hour with crumbs upon
their coats. 1t always happened that when
the Museum was closed for the night, lost
sight of my old man. So at last matters went
on till one day earl in the third week OF my
work. | had formed resolution almost un-
accOuntably to myself, to be beforehand with
ID. s, and witness his entry, as well as the
direction by which he should come. l was
passing through one of the streets which con-
meet New Oxford street with the Strand, when
| saw my old man emerging from meat
street. reeking with filth and resounding with
the cries of ragged children, which opened in
to that along which [ was passing. We met
suddenly, and involuntarily | bowed. 1t was
impossible to pass without recognition, one by
whose side had sat for days, and by whose
side | expected to sit for days again. The old
man started with surprise. He colored for an
instant, and said:
eve meet sooner than usual, sir this morn
ing"
After my bow | was embarrassed. | was
by no means clear that | had not committed
an absurdity,in this thrusting a saIutation on
a stranger. The old mans tone was precise
ly that which is used by one who is perfectly
self-possessed, and who. seeing another in en-
barrassment and feeling himself master of the
occasion, desires to double his victory by show
ling it. 1t was the old man who put me at
my ease, and yet should be conveying a
false impression if | were to leave the idea
that his manner indicated that mysterious
acquaintance with the Shbboleths of society
which is usually claimed for hero in rags
My old man was courteous and gentle but /
cannot pretend to say that he was what is
conventionally meant by gentleman"
that most inexphcable Of words He was, pos
sibly, not the less gentleman in one sense
for not being a gentleman in another We
walked together TO our destination, and ex-
changed few common place sentences by the
way. My companion appeared pre-occupied
and distracted. He was very cautious in at
tempting crossing, but so unhappy III his
choice Of times and seasons, that more than
once he was nearly run over. In few min
utes we were each of us in our place. Our
piles Of books, reserved for us from the pre-
vious day brought us front heir nightly
resting place, and we began our work as usual.
| But not quite as usual. The ice had been
broken | was determined, if | could, to learn
more Of the character who had so strongly af-
fected me, and, if possible, help him in his
apparently cheerless old age. When even
| ing fell again, he evidently tried to avoid me.
| He succeeded in leaving the building some
minutes before me, and, as | came to the top
OF the street which had been the scene of our
previous meeting, just caught glimpse of
the well-known figure as it dived into the
squaid street whence | had seen it emerge
Intent on learning something Of the life and
pursuits OF my companion, | strove hard toI
win a few words of conversation with him on
every day of my visits to Bloomsbury. Some
times | succeeded but was more often baffled.
He was always polite, but alway incommuni-
cative and, from his dreamy gaze and occa-
sional mutterings, | concluded that he was too
much pre-occupied with his work, whatever
that might he, to admit of his forming any
new acquaintance To gain access to his Iodg
ings-as much, hope, with the desire of find
ing means to lfelp him, as from mere curiosi-
ty-I tried several ingenious expedients and
descended to more than one, hope | may say
pardonable, pretence proposed to bring him
a book on a subject about which we convers
ed. | begged to be allowed sight Of MS, |
the possession of which he indscreetly own
ed. On one occasion | went SO far as to feel
suddenly faint and indisposed as we approach |
ed the turning where he usually babe me fare
well. An inopportune Hanson was rolling |
by unoccupied and, with unusual vigor and |
decision, the old man called it to my side.
The more convinced l became that all my
endeavOrs would give me little more knowl- !
edge of my mysterious acquaintance than the
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. which possessed when
first observed his outer appearance, the more
strangely did he occupy my thoughts Once
dreamed of him by night. [ often dreamed
of him by day. Who was he? Whence did
he come? What was he doing? Had he no
triends-no children to nurse his age as he
had nursed their youth? The utmost that |
could discover was his name. One day fol-
lowed him as he left the library, and stopped
in more senses than one, to pick up the torn
fragments of a cancelled voucher for books re-
turned to the librarian which he dropped up
on the ground. The voucher was signed
james Smith" Not name for a romance.
Not name like that which Mr.. Richard Swiv-
eler chose for the Marchioness whom he des-
tined for his BRIDE as being indicative of
mystery" 'James Smith indicated just
nothing at all This name discovered, and
also the fact that its owner came out of and
returned into the fourth Of the dingy houses
ofthealley whence / had first seen him emerge.
With this ] was compelled to be content. /
noticed moreover that the old man had near
ly reached the end his MS. book, and that,
on the leaves of the book was label bear
ing the number XxxvI The nearer the wri-
ter came to the end of his work, the more ex-
cited grew his delneanor. His hands shook
with quicker palsy with every page that
he turned. His eyes shone with a fercer
fire as he lighted on some opposite quotation.
On the Tuesday of the fourth week Of my
visits to the site of Montague House it chanc-
ed that I was accompanied on my way by a
young surgeon of my acquaintance He had
won all ready very favorable notice from the
chiefs Of his profession, and having happy K
power of conversing on dry subjects, combin-
ed with rare delicacy Of manipulation in diff
cult cases. he was an agreeable companion, as
well as a skillful operator. He was beguiling I
the way with felicitous remarks on the orr il
gin Of species and the relation of the Silnian
to the Human families, and for the while II
had forgotten D. s. his book and beard, and all I
belonging to him. Ere long the well-known {
my head | saw him slowly winding his way Ii
some two hundred yards in front of us, and t
began to describe him and his habits to my t
friend. Five minutes more, and the weak, '
STOPPING form was looking eagerly up and /
down Oxford street to see if he might venture J
through the stream of traffic. He waited, with
his head turned anxiously eastward, till ahuge t
van Of Pickford's, driving rapidly from the y
west, was within two yards of the place where
he stood, and then plunged forward. We were y
nearly by bis side. [ shut my eyes for a second S
in blank horror. Was he crushed and bleed |
ing in the road? The huge wagon was far 1
on its way. Some part of the harness of the t
vehicle had struck the old may as he met it, I
and thrown him back upon the pavement /
| thrust my way through the crowd that in y
London rises in an instant, like the men of I
Pyrrha and Deucalion, from the stones A {
L,,.l.lInl L.. :