San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-03-09

err, and came to be quite cordial, not To
say confidential, in our relations. Every
night, almost, when I was waiting for
the cabalistic $50" that ended the tele-
graphic news report, or after the final
proofs had been corrected and the COM
positors had "pasted their strings" he
would come slipping into my room
with that soft, considerable tread Pc
culiar to printers when entering an edi-
torial sanctum, and we would talk there
all alone rs at our first meeting, or, ii
the weather was pleasant, would go
forth into the night and walk the broad,
smooth streets till the moon went down.
Ny friend was confirmed "bannerite, "
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 cheeks and balances, with
death closing it all, at last, in kind of
unguessed conundrum. He had walked
thousands of miles over the country. He
always walked when he travelled. 81
get sea-sick on the cars" he said to me
once, with a grim smile; and then he
added, slowly and in n shrinking tone,
"makes my feet sore Cto ride, too"
During the previous year he had "made
the tour Of CanAda, N asAe phased y |;
thence toiBoston, New York, JChaflssl
ton, New Orleans, and upthe Mississippi
to St.Louis, and then across Illinois and
Iowa, and finally TO Topeka. q He had
not worked over d week IN any one
place, nor rode mile on the whole
journey. GA hankerin', for scenery,
-wss the reason he gave me for this ex-.
Epded ramble.o And surely he had'n
been blind to the shifting delights of
sky and sea and shadowing forest which
had opened out before him like an un-
rolling picture, % Nor had he failed,
,yagabond as lie was, to note the pc
euliar and varying traits of the different
peoples among whom his travels had'led
him; for he had a keen insight, and de-
tected aoflaw,or foible of character as
if it had been bourgeois letter in line
of nohpareils - ~ He was better than a
book v ne; since he. read himself il and
turned his own leaves; and grew to
look forward'all the day to his coming
nightly visit with impatient eagerness.
No doubt he lied to me many times and
STANDARDIZATION he was. mortal and not,
wholly without egotism; but he did it,
when he deemed it advisable, in such a
large, overcoming, clif-like way that it
was almost as, good as the truth.
Where there is much to, interest, says
some, generous philosopher, there must
yet be something's to pardon. ="
Why the boys in the Office called him
"Old Noah" L could never quite make
out. 3, Perhaps it was because he had
Travelled SO far and seen so much that
his life seemed to them to have been
projected forward, somehow, faster and
farther than theyears counted Or, it
may have been that his supreme indif-
ference ito, all the alert and urging ele- 4
ments of every day life gave to him, in
their estimation, something of the lean
ing and waiting spirit of one aged be-
fore his time. Certainly he bore no
physical signs Of being an old man. He
stood erect, lacking even the depression
Of chest that is characteristic of his craft;
his eyes were full, clear and steady;
md the. slight touch of silver in his
made his face stronger, rather
han weaker. He could not have been
more than 40;. he might easily have
passed for So. The Oldest thing about
lin was his costume, That was always
Ind conspieuously msthe pathetic sec
md childhood of decay, and always,
90, out of harmony with the prevailing
Weather, thus appearing to have been
eft over from the preceding season.
rhe summer that saw so much of him
lie wore heavy, dingy, beaver-cloth
'oat, usually buttoned to the chin with
clerical exactness-too often, appre-
lend, only to hide the want of a shirt; I
nd he declared to me with every 'indi-
alton of truth that pair of brown cot
on oyeralls had served to temper the
litter Illinois winds to his shudderihg b
rame the previous winter. fl.f.
4" The peacock is pretty Bird" he
emarked to me once, casually discours-