The Portland daily press., 1878-07-13
~ From Scribner's.l Z L.
Concerning a Certain Prod
igal.
BY HENRY KING.

The first time encountered the late Noah
Rabbit, journeyman printer, he struck me,
as they say on the frontier, for a loan of So.
1t was in the sanctum of the Commonwealth
newspaper at Topeka. He had drifted in
from his habitual wanderings only the day
before, and been put on as s.sub," with the
customary promise of Irregular cases" as soon
as vacancy should occur. This particular
night he was not at work; and after the last
OF the ioafers had gone, and while sat run
ming my pencil over delayed proof hurried.
ly. and vexed with the heat and the buzzing
OF insects about the lampshade 1T was fer
vid August night, I remember, with not air
enough to disturb the exchanges lying loosely
in the open window-he tapped me faml-
iarly on the shoulder and said:
Gap, that leader of yours yesterday on
the labor question was an awful good thing;
you sounded the keynote, and want to con-
graduate YOU" 's(
Thereupon we shook hands with extrava-
giant warmth, though with reservation of
mutual distrust, think; and then we fell to
pauperism to the doctrine of atonement, In
that candid, positive and encyclopedia, but
picturesque and superficial style common to
newspaper offices the world over. So much
did the fellow interest me that, weary as I
was with the nights work, found myself
after two hours still patiently listening to
him, as the town clock struck in the morn
Ing. In spite Of my first instructive misgiv-
ings he made me like him. He seemed so
frank and selfconfdent, so observant, so
quick-witted and so heroically contented;
and then, did he not fill every lull in the con-
versation with fiattering reference to my
editorials? All, right well he knew, the cal
culating wretch, that he, too, had sounded
keynote with that Introductory congratula-
ton! But it was not until after we had fin
ished our talk, and was making ready to
leave him that he asked mel hardly know
how, it was done so dexterously-to favor
him with "couple of dollars, till Saturday."
or course he got it, though needed not to
be told that with the borrowing printer still
Saturday" is measure of time that spans
eternity; and then he walked with me arm
in-arm to the Old Crow saloon, where he
a glass of ale, and as turned to 90, saw
him hand my two-dollar bill over the bar
with an air of complacence that really
touched me like personal kindness.
After this we were frequently together, and
came to be quite cordial, not to say confiden-
tia, In our relations. Every night, almost,
when was waiting for the cabalistic 1907
that ended the telegraph news report, or
after the final proofs had been corrected and
VIC SouPVcloOlo AdQ pdoltu luclT
he would come slipping into my room with
that soft, considerable tread peculiar to print
ers when entering an editorial sanctum, and
we would talk there all alone as at our first
meeting, or If the weather was pleasant,
would go forth into the night and walk the
broad, smooth streets till the moon went
down. My friend was confirmed "banner-
lite" as the printers term it-a careless, shift
less, strolling vagabond, here to-day and
there tomorrow, without home or kindred,
and treating life as farce full of amusing
checks and balances, with death closing it all
at last in kind of I'm guessed conundrum.
He had walked thousand of miles over the
country. He always walked when be tray
eled. II get sea sick on the cars" he said to
me once with grim smile; and then he
added, slowly and in shrinking tone,
"makes my feet sore to ride, too" During
the previous year he had ssmade the tour Of
Canada" as he phrased it; thence to Bos-
ton, New York, Charleston, New Orleans,
and up the Mississippi to st. Louis, and then
across Illinois and Iowa, and finally to To-
any one place, nor rode a mile on the whole
journey. "a hankerin' for scenery" was
the reason he gave me for this extended
ramble. And surely he had not been blind
to the shifting delights of sky and sea and
shadowing forest which had opened out be-
fore him like an unrolling picture. Nor had
he failed, vagabond as he was, to note the
peculiar and varying traits of the different
peoples among whom his travels had led him;
for he had keen insight and detected al flaw
or foible OF character as If it had been a
bourgeois letter in line of nonpareil. He
was better than book to me, since he read
himself and turned his own leaves; and I
grew to look forward all the day to his COM
ing nightly visit with impatient eagerness.
No doubt he lied to me many times and scan
dalously, for hei was mortal and not wholly
without egotism; and he did it, when he
deemed it advisable, in such large, overcom-
ing, cliff-like way that it was almost as good
as the truth. Where there is much to inter-
est, says some generous philosopher, there
must yet be something to pardon.
Why the boys in the office called him "Old
Noah," could never quite make out. Per-
haps it was because he had travelled so far
and seen SO much that his life seemed to
them to have been projected forward, some
how, faster and faster than the years counted.
Or, 1t may have been that his supreme indif-
ference to all the alert and urging elements
of everyday life gave to him, in their estima-
ton, something of the leaning and waiting
spirit of one aged before his time. Certainly
he bore no physical signs of being an old
man. He stood erect, lacking even the de-
HhOooioh vi CuCob tndl 10 Cudl dCtCIlobC vi LIS
craft; his eyes were full, clear and steady;
and tie slight touch of silver in his whiskers
made bis face stronger rather than weaker.
He could not have been more than forty; he
might easily have passed for thirty five.
The Oldest thing about him was his costume.
That was always and conspicuously in the
pathetic second childhood of decay, and al
ways. too, out of harmony with the prevail
ing weather, thus appearing to have been
left over from the preceding season. The
summer that saw so much of him.he wore
heavy, dingy beaver-cloth coat, usually
buttoned to the chin with clerical exactness
too often, l apprehend, only to hide the
want of shirt; and he declared to me with
every indication of truth that a pair of
brown cotton overalls had served to temper
the bitter Illinois winds to his shuddering
frame through the previous winter.
1.-THE peacock is pretty Bird" he re-