The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-04-12
A LESSON FOR HARD TIMES,

IF one of the characters out of Dick
ems novels had walked into the room, l
could not have been more surprised. 1t
was press day; I was very busy in my
sanctum, when I heard the door open
and curious shuffling noise followed,
which made me look up for a'moment
from my paper. 1t was but for mo-
ment; saw, MS I supposed, a crippled
beggar, shufding his way on his knees
toward my chair. I waved him away
with my hand" Nothing for you," l
said, resolutely, little impatiently pos
sibly, and turned back to my desk,
caught up the broken thread, and wound
off the completed sentence from the edi-
torial distaff. But the beggar was not
repelled. He answered something; with
a divided attention could not well make
out what. Nothing for you, / repeat
ed, somewhat more vigorously than be-
fore. The answer was plain enough this
time; and in tone that commanded at
tention-" I am no beggar, sir.
I had gotten to the end OF my SEN
tence now. Two or three weeks ago /
had been studying the parable of the
good Samaritan. Perhaps the recollec-
ton of two very pious men who were in
so great hurry to get to the temple
that they could not attend to the unfor-
tunate, may have had some influence on
me. laid down my pen and went to
the unknown.
He was on his knees; his legs from his
knees to his feet were useless appen-
dages, which dragged after him and
produced the shufiing sound which first
attracted my attention. His whole body
was disiointed; his arms alternately
hung down like the wooden arms of a
great toy, and moved about in q gro
tesque attempt at ge: ture-ike the toy
arms when the image is pulled by the
string from below. When he spoke he
wormed and twisted his head from side
to side, and contcrted his face with the
vigor of his endeavor, as though the
words were stored below and could be
brought'up out of reluctant throat only
by wrestling and invincible will. But
his eye was clear, his brow high, and his
whole face, wnen in repose, not unhand-,
some.
"i have got something to sell, sir,
and it is no humbug, either"
Then I noticed for the first time
leathern bag slung over his shoulder.
With curious spasmodic twist he dove
into it and brought out q tin box labeled
"Prof. IS soap; warranted to take
out grease spots," etc., etc. In this as
in every motion, his arms, and hands,
and fingers, made wild attempts before
they succeeded in their purpose, like
those of two or three months old babe
that had not yet come into possession OF
itself.
"Wbat brought you into this condi-
tion, my friend ?" said I, looking down
upon him.
"I was born cripple, SIR" he an
swered. "But," he added, quickly, as
though he saw some sympathy in my
face and would refuse it, "you must not
think that I suffer, for I don't have
no pain: it is only weakness; weakness
OF the spine, the doctors tell me, so that
I don't have good use of my arms, or
legs, or face. But I don't suffer. And
l am not unhappy"
could hardly look in his face when he
was speaking, his endeavors were SO dis
tressingly labored. I rarely give to beg
gars; for that very reason / am always
reluctant to turn away any one, from the
gamin who is sweeping the street cross
ings up who is endeaYoring to earn an
honest living. I bought his patent soap
and gave hin the price-a quarter. He
turned to 60 away; I should have as
soon thought of offering charity to any
other independent merchant as to him,
but stopped him with question. 1t
needed but very little touch of sympa-
thy to open his heart. He told me his
story. I transcribe it here as we'll as
can, but I am painfully aware that it
loses character in the transcribing
"My father was mechanic. WAS
always, from my birth, as you see me
now. He supported me till l was twen-
ty-eight. But 1 didn't like it. l wanted
to be self-supporting."
I noted a curious feature OF his Ian
guage. It was that of one born IN the
lower ranks, but tsef-educated by courses
OF reading outside the literature of his
companions. thought this at the time;
it was confirmed by suggestive hint
afterward.
"I told my father. He laughed at
me. what can you do ? said he. I
told him that he could not always sup
port me; he must die some day, and he
had no money. THE Lord will pro-
vide,' said he. But that did not suit
me. resolved if could not have my
own way 1 would run away"
There was something pathetically hu.
rnorous in this picture of q man-boy OF
twsnty-eight running away on his knees
ssors . tsrasaieal isshss who dsspotieslly