New Orleans Republican., 1875-11-07
''GIL,,,
BY M. QUAD.

A ragged, sad-eyed boy, aged nine or ten
stopped me on the street the other day and
said:
II have not had anything to eat this
whole day. Won't you please give me ten
cents"
gave it to him. I'd have given him the
money if it had been necessary to pawn my
hat.
"Do you let impostors swindIe you in that
manner 2" asked an acau aintance.
A journalist who has knocked around for
daily paper dOz-n years, has seen every
phase Of human life. Men, women and
children have swindled him, OF sought to;
people have lied to him; his money has been
given to whining, lying vagrants, who told
able to correctly read human nature.
an bet that boy is o professional beggar,"
continued my friend, chuckling at the idea
of my being swindled.
None Of us care for the loss of a chin
plaster on the street, while every one feels
vexed and annoyed at the idea of being
swindled out of q single penny. l could
not say that the boy was not q swindler,
and YET would have divided my last shil-
ling with him.
.'WhyV
told my friend why, and will tell you.
One day last year, when the wild wind
blew the snow over the house roofs and
dTOuuu tuc CuTucTb Ill UtIUulng CLOUDS, and
when the frosty air cut ones face like q
knife, boy of ten came up to me ss l
waited for the car. He was tbinly clad, his
face betrayed hunger and suffering, and in
q mournful voice he pleaded:
I'm hungry and cold"
II haven't any"
Haven't you any relativesl"
"Not one.'
"How long have YOU been herel"
"Three weeks"
The boy spoke in that drawl which pro-
fessiOnal beggars assume. l believed, too,
that had seen his face on the streets time
and again. hardened my heart and said:
boy! know you, and if catch you ask
ing any one for money again, I'll have you
arrested"
He moved away quickly. l argued that
this proved his guilt. forgetting that a
homeless, friendless waif might evince fear
when entirely innocent.
Five hours later, when night had come,
and the wind had grown to fierce gale,
the boy halted me- again, as l plunged
through the snow.dyifts. l did not see him
until he called out:
mister! I'm am almost starved, III freeze
to death if can't get some place to Sleep"
The same thin. ragged clothes, hardly
comfortable enough tor june weather-the
same whine to his voice. l felt like giving
him money, but the fear that he had been
sent out by his parents to beg restrained
and angered me. Catching him by the arm,
/ yelled out:
''See here, boy! If you don't own up that
you are lying to me, Iii take you to the sta
tion."
Through the binding storm saw bis
white face grow paler, and he cried back:
Don't take me-dOn't. Yes, was lying"
l released him and he hurried away,
while walked on, hsttering myself that /
had played sharp game, and done the
generous public good turn.
An hour later, when the night had grown
still wilder and colder, some one knocked
wondered who could have sent chill d
abroad on such 9 night When I opened
the door that same boy WAS ON the STEP his
face blue with cold, his whole form shiver-
ing. and look of deportation ir his eyes.
"Plesse, Mister -" he began, but
stopped when recognizing me.
l was puzzled to know why he should
have followed me h0me-why he had select
ed me for victim and trailed me 60 per.
sistently. l might have argued that the
storm had driven people off the streets, and
that the freezing, starving boy had, in his
desperation, called at the house, but l
didn't didn !s Had It % been any other boy; or any
given promptly and freely. But l was
angry at his trailing me-angered that he
thought he could swindle me, and grabbed
at him and inquired:
"BOy. what is your name9"
He leaped back, and. standing where the
furious storm almost buried him from sight,
answered:
"Gil."
II know you, SIR" shouted, and he
moved away without another word.
May the Lord forgive me for that nights
work; but you might have acted the same.
When morning came, after night 60 bitter
that policemen were frozen on their beats, 1
opened the front door to find that boy dead
ON the stepe, frozen to death. l knew, ss
the dead white face looked up at me through
the snow, that had wronged him with nv
suepioions. but it was ttO late then-the
angels had opened to him = gate leading to
Q place where the human heart and its uh.
worthy thoughts can never enter. Poor
Gil warm meal or q shilling would
have saved his life, and drove him out to
his death.
This is Why give when am aske now.
know l sometimes give to the unworthy,
bqt it would be better to give all I possessed
~ at~ xhs o.