The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-11-26
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whole day ont you please give
me ten cents p
gave it to him. I'd have given the
money if it had been necessary to pawn
my hat.
"Do You let impostors swindle you
in that manner ?" inquired an intimate
acquaintance.
a journalist who has knocked around
for daily paper dozen years has
seen every phase of human life. Men,
women, and children have swindled
him, or sought to people have lied to
him; his money has been given to whin-
ing, lying vagrants who told diretul
tales of distress, and he ought to be able
to correctly read human nature.
s'Pll bet that boy is professional
beggar," continued my friend, chuckling
at the idea of my being swindled.
None of us care for the loss of shin
plaster on the street, while every one
feels vcxed and annoyed at the idea of
being swindled out of single penny.
could not say the boy was not swind-
Ter, and yet would have divided my
last shilling with him.
"Why p
I told my friend why, and will also
tell you.
One day last year when the wind
blew the snow over the house-roots, and
around the corners in binding clouds,
and when the frosty air cut ones face
like knife, a boy of ten came mp to
me as | waited for the car. He was
thinly clad. His face betrayed hunger
aud suffering, and in mournful voice
he pleaded:
"Fm hungry and cold.'
"Why don't You go home?" I asked.
| 81 haven't any!'
"I1aven't you any relatives 90
''Not one 70
"IIow lcng have you been here 90
'sThree weeks.''
The boy spoke in that drawl which
professional beggars assume. l believ-
ed. too, that had seen his face on the
streets time and again. I hardened my
| heart and then sail:
"Boy! l know you, and if catch
You asking any one for money again I'll
have you arrested %
He moved away quickly. I argued
that this proved his guilt, forgetting
that homeless, friendless waif might
eyince fear when entirely innocent.
Five hours later, when night had
come, and the wind had grown to a
fierce gale, the boy halted me again as
plunged through the snow drifts. ]
did not see him until be cried out:
mister! I'm almost starved, and
I'll freeze TO death if can't get some
place to sleepP'
The same thin ragged clothes, hardly
comfortable enough for June weather
the same whine to his voice. I 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:
ssee here, boy! if yon don't own up
that you are lying to me I'll take you
to the station l's
Through the binding storm I saw
his white face grow paler and paler,
and ne cried back
'tDon't take me-don't! Yes sir, /
am lying''
released him and he hurried away,
willie / walked on, fiattering 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 at the door. It was tirnid
knock, and / wondered who could have
sentma child abroad on such night.
WhSl1 opened the door that same boy
was on the step, his face blue with cold,
his whole form shisering, and look OF
desperation in his eyes.
Please Mister r. lie began but
stopped when recognizing me.
/ was puzzled TO know why be should
hayafollowad me home why he had
selected me for victim and trailed me
30 persistently I might have argued
that The storm had driven people OF tha
street, and that the fieezing, Starving
boy had IN his desperation called At the
houss. bat ! didn't. Had it been any
osheF boy or any other person asking
charity ] would have given promptly