Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1879-02-27
OLD POGER.
BY REBECCA HARDING DAVIS.

1t was late one afternoon in Decembe
when John Webb left the train at a way
side station in New Jersey.
There is stage to Seaport?" he
asked OF the loungers on the platform.
eyes; there's Symes a.harnessin' u,
the team now"
The team" consisted of a pair O.
stout mules and an open wagon. Webb
hurrles over to Symes. "What is youl
fare?"
"Two dollars
An old, decrepid man stood near pat.
ting one Of the mules. His bleared ewes
watered, and his thick under-ip trem
bled with palsy.
" Not two dollars for poor old beg
gar like me-" he whined. "Two dollar.
tor this boss here; but you won't charge
me nothln': Hey, Mr.. Symes?"
1.-Two dollars, I tell you"
John Webb drew out his pocketbook
and took from it FIVE dollar bill. Il
was ali he had. A month ago the firm
tor which he acted as bookkeper had
failed, leaving him without work and
with very little money.
Webb was an educated man, full of
energy and courage. He was not
ashamed of any honest work which
would keep his wife and two little chill
dren from want; bit the city was filed
with men like himself seeking employ
ment. He struggled on for a month,
the prospect growing darker with every
day. At the end Of that time a friend
wrote:
A district schoolteacher is needed
in Seaport, fishing village on the Jer-
sey coast. Go down and apply for the
place. The salary is small, but it is
better than nothing"
50 John was on his way to Seaport
with five dollars in his pocket. He
handed it to the driver, who fumbled
IN greasy leather bag for the change.
The old man patted Symes on the arm.
cycling the money hungryly.
You dear, good young man what
lot OF chink you have! You'd not ask
two dollars from an old man totterin' to
his grave? I'm sick, an must get to
Seaport tonight, an if you don't give
me lift, I've got to walk
it, driver?'
"Twenty miles,"
An through the pine woods, with
hundreds of paths crossin' each otherW
cried the beggar, turning quickly to
John. :. III die by the way! As God
sees me, haven't a penny" dragging
out his ragged pockets. 1--WE not tasted
meat for months; I've eaten nothing
bread!''
"Can this be true?' asked John Of
the driver.
~ s'pose it is" gruf1y, cold Poger's
a6out the poorest man nigh Seaport.
Inc stage belongs to company, or I'd
give hlm lit. Come on, sir; I'm
ready"
John climbed into the wagon. Itwas
a cold, clouded day, and snow was living
on the ground. The wind was rising.
and blew in wild, fierce gusts across The
pine forest which stretched away before
them.
The old man buttoned his coat about
dlm, and with tottering steps followed
the wagon.
Webb turned his back that he might
not see him. He had but the three dol
=, rye half mind to walk and give
1nat ora FELLOW my place." he said, with
an awkward laugh.
You can't do it, sir. There are
twenty zigzag roads crossing in the
pines; You'd be lost in an hour. Be.
sides"- He looked at Poper with a
significant laugh, and stopped snddon1v
They drove on. Webb looked back
again pleasantly: The lean, stopped IT,
ure was still in sight, the long white hair
hanging over the battered clothes.
"My fathers hair was like that"
thought John, who had been most low
ing son.
-. "stop, symes!" he said; "I can't
ssanu th1s any longer. Take the old
man IN; will pay for him."
enn, - st as you please, SIR" and again
eymes gave the significant chuckle.
Poger climbed into the WAGON thanh.
ing John, but giving him at the same
time a queer, quizzical glance oc.
CURED to the young man that, both Po.
ger and Symes Thought he was J J fcai "
emo matter; l did what was r;rh+ :,
he thought. his face growing red.
They drove on. Poger talked incea.
sanity of his terrible poverty and his
diseases, pushing closer to Jonn as he
9io so. No doubt he was an exceediu ylv
"rty' olsagreeable old man. The smell