Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1874-03-27

e perhaps L was not adapted TO that partic,
lS lar business though. SO too. Findin
ot 1 had no money, he handed me ten cer
y stamp, and the nearest baker sold on
Is more loaf of bread than he otherwise would
IL After quite an extended experieDc
J among. them | am forced to say that man
J. of the concerns who make promises {
''agents" are what might be termed hum
bugs.
y And now the shades Of eve began to com
slowly down. How shall l describe th
feeling of desolstor ;hat began to conn
over me : no money, no friends, no home
l envied the brute beasts, the truck horst
with his dray, as he contentedly wendet
his way to his stable up town-even The
. dog that followed behind then came 9
; feeling of angry rebellion against the laws
of society and Of God, followed by one o.
despair. Oh, the misery of that long night
walking, walking. | could not stop long
to rest-the policemen seemed to be every
where present, and loiterers at night are
looked upon with suspicion, and closely
watched. When you see short item in
the newspapers to the effect that stranger,
name supposed to be SO and 80, last night
committed suicide, probable cause, power
ty, do you ever think of the hopes formed,
only to be broken, the yearnings, the long
ings. the expectations never realized, the
long continued mental agony that preceded
the last desperate, fatal, mad, resolve ? 1
have never thought seriously of ending my
own life, but 1 can easily see how people of
a certain temperament and disposition can
be brought to take such a step. l next
tried the book business, and the first day
was fortunate enough to sell one; that
night procured lodging but the next day
was not successful, and, of course, out
again; and So time passed on-somet;mes
with shelter at night, but oftener without :;
sometimes going q whole day with abso-
lutely nothing to eat. And now cold wea-
ther had begun to set in, and it was not
until nature had become exhausted could
manage to sleep in some unfinished build
| ing in process of erection, or covered wa
gon in the street, and then the sleep l got
under such circumstances was not of that
refreshing kind that you are accustomed to
reader besides, there was the continual
fear of being molested in my wagon by po-
hcemen, III my house by those having
charge of it. One night, in new build
ing on Hudson street, had just composed
myself in a corner of an upstairs room for
little rest, when / heard the heavy tramp
of man hurriedly approaching; in a mo-
ment he angrily appeared at my door with
a big club in his hand, and l was ignomi-
niously expelled; but in my nightly wan
derings soon found on arriving at what
1 considered the most eligible spots for re-
tirement, that they were preoccupied by
some poor unfortunate like myself; indeed, |
if it were not so, l should hardly have |
courage to pen this sketch, for l should |
consider that my being reduced so low |
must be owing to some fault or deficiency |
peculiarly my own. / had been informed |
by fellow cosIuupol:t- ~ thAAi--,---o
IurnIonUu at une station houses gratuitous- |
" to homeless wanderers, but there was |
something in the idea that made me re-
coil from making the trial. But one night |
when the seet was coming down, half rain |
half snow, l concluded any shelter prefera- |
bic, and walking into station house on |
east side made known to the officer in at
,rbot T yro,11 lilo TTa ra,,,o IL yaJ i
that il was rather late hour to come for /
lodging, but l told him that in my igno-
rance l did not know that it made any diff |
ference he then inquired my name, age,
occupation, and where was born, my an
swers to which were all recorded in a
book He then turned me over TO the |
door.keeper, rough, surly fellow, who con-
Quoted me to the den. One glance was en-
ough for me to decide not to accept the
profered hospitality, but l begged the
doorman to allow me moment for Obser-
vation. To give an adequate description
of the scene am not able, nothing but the
pen of Dante, or the pencil of Doro, could
do the subject justice. The stencil and
mixture of stenches that rose on the air,
the iibes and blasphemies, prayers and
curses from many of the half drunk or era
zy inmates, the occupation of one or two in
the corne. picking the vermin from their
bodies. and the general appearance of ex-
treme filth, the yells and moans of the wo-
men in the next rOom-all these made an
impression on me which | shall not soon
forget.
On the street 1 again met the policeman
who had directed my way to this place he
kindly loaned me quarter. Lately have
staid for a few nights at place in the low
er part of the city, which is maintained for
the aid of the homeless by the munifcence
of a well-known citizen of this city.
At the present moment l imagine my
prospects for the future are little brighter
than they have been. l pray it may not be
only imagination. And in closing have
only to say young man, unless you are
possessed of money enough to be indepen-
dent, or have positive engagement with a
responsible firm, don't come to the great
city. arrived at this conclusion not only
from my own experience, but from that
of many others whom l have either come
in actual contact with, or had knowledge |
Of; men who have been merchants and
lawyers, rs we'll as clerks and artizans,
and men of all degrees of ability, from low
medium to high. don't come here to wait
for something to turn up Woods House
hold 1Hdydzinc.
Bcecher OIL the Temperance Move
menf.
Rev. II. W. Beecher, in his address in
The Plymouth lecture room the other even
ing said
1--WE see in nature two modes of action |
one the gladual, steadfast motion the
other a climateric motion. So we have
nightly dews and gentle rain, and the other
bo 10 otorpnc hotb d. |