The Republican. [volume] (Maryville, Tenn.) 187?-187?, 1874-08-15
The Last Chicago Fire Sufferer.


We met on corner. / took note of
him while he was yet half block away,
and l knew that he was either Chicago
fire sufferer, q Milwaukee book agent,
or one of the old guard. He Sid he
was a Chicago fire sufferer. He leaned
up against lamp post and looked ven
solemn as he said it, and no cougheda
sad cough, and held up his game leg
for me to see.
told him 1 dIan't care about the
Chicago fire nor about his suflerings.
The Chicago fire was too old, and the
game had worn down thin. had been
visited by dozen lame women, scolc
of blind men, numerous widows, acres
If orphans, and few old maids, all Of
whom lost their all i'll the great fire,
and wanted from five dollars TO q mil
lion of dollars each.
Yes, he knew that irresponsible PEG.
pie had made handle OF the great fire
TO solicit charity. LIE had heard of
two or three instances himself, and it
made him feel sad all along down his
spine to think that nature permitted
the same sun to shine upon the real and
the bogus sufferers. And he acknowl-
edged that it was pretty late in the day
to come around with his fiery story of
woe, but -. He paused, coughed a
lonesome cough, placed his hands
across his stomach, and added
" am the last-positively the last
Chicago fire sufferer. l am on my way
to the grave, and there are none to
come after me-"
He saw that / hesitated, and he show
ed me his relics-a whole satchel fnll.
There were bricks from the Academy
of Music, melted types from the news
paper offices, broken china from the
the hotels and various other things.
Some of 'em handn't hardly cooled off
yet, but he was ready for me.
won't go for to try to deceive you,
sir, he said 81 BOUGHT EN- of a chap
who was hard up, and he might have
deceived me-"
He said I might abuse him, but he
shouldn't care. They were the last
relics of the great fire, aud he was the
last sufferer, and they were travelling 10
the tomb together. His wife and nine
children were under the sod, his home
a smoking ruin, and be was only wsis-
ing to be called. / called him. |
called him gilt-edged names and kicked
at his satchel in scorn, but he coughed
mis- melancholy cough, and said that
when the sods we're heavily on his breast
and had time to reflect he felt sure
that my thoughts would do him justice.
It wasn't his fault he didn't like to so
around and sell relics he didn't start
the fire. And then he was the last suf.
ferer when he was rid of those relics
the last relics on the market-thsn the
country would have rest.
| made him take of his hat and swear
solemn oath that he meant to quit the
suffering business, and then / bought
him out l threw the old bricks around,
kicked the satchel over a fence, and I
warned him that it would be death to
break his vow. He increased the sad
ness of his cough as he counted over
the money, and he limped away like q
candidate for sheriff defeated at the
ballot-box. believed him and / was
happy, but at dusk / met him again.
He had that same satchel. those same
relics, and that same cough, and he was
holding to door-post and telling an
old lady that all he wanted on this
earth was to get rid of his few remain
ing mementoes, find corner to die in,
and have some one know that he was
the last genuine Chicago fire sufferer,
and that all others we're base limitations.
Detroit Free Press. =