The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1881-04-02
The Man with the Bundle.

We have met him. Burly, broad-shouldeIed,
a little careless both in dress and gait, as if
conscientiously opposed TO precision of any
kind; and his face-from the shining curve of
the smooth-shaven chin to the CLEAN of gold
spectacles that sit astride his nose-beams with
exhaustless good humor. About p. m. is his
hour, when you can generally see him head
ing as if homeward, and carrying thitherward
brown paper enyeloped parcel. From long
familiarity with this feature of his personality
we had come to designate his otherwise anony-
mousness as "the man with the bundle"
1t may have been imagination on our part,
but as we met him, the other cold afternoon,
his ( ace seemed so absolutely radiant with the
heat of genial benevolence that we thought
the thermometer at the corner of Milk street
went up two degrees as he passed. We deter
mined to make an effort to know more about
him. Presently our desire was gratified. En-
tering a store ON Washington street, who
should be standing at the counter, closing at
the same instant the lid of magnificent writ
ing case and a bargain for its purchase, but our
radiant-faced friend.
ITO what address shall we send this?" said
the clerk, with tone indicating extreme re-
spect.
Nowhere" responded the purchaser; 81 al
ways carry my own bundles"
"Yes, sir; but this is heavy, and it will be
pleasure for us to send it,"
young man." replied the other,T always
love TO take something home at night to show
my wife and children that haven't forgotten
them while at my business, and 1 wouldn't
give pin to make anybody present, unless I
carried it into the house myself want to see
EN- take it. Besides, sir, never allow any
body to be bothered by sending things home
for me that can take home myself. L began
life as dry goods mans boy, and many wea-
~ mile of sidewalk I've trudged to carry
yard of ribbon or paper of pins to somebody
too proud or too lazy to carry it themselves. l
haven't forgot my old thoughts, and what's
more, though times have changed with me
since then, l amt ashamed TO be seen in the
streets with bHndle."
Yes, sir, but this is heavy"
mo matter, I'm strong" and out he went,
with such glow on his face that one could
imagine it lighted up the now dim sidewalk
rods ahead, as locomotive reflector illumin-
ates the track.
Another well known face passed him at the
door coming in. Purchasing Congress knife,
the newcomer said insaIsharp and dictatorial
tone:
"Send it to my house (No. fifteen hundred
and something, Washington street,) immedi-
ately; shall want it as soon as get home"
Two different men," suggested we, as the
clerk closed the door after him.
Very" was the reply. "The man with the
bundle is Mr.. =, the honest owner of hum
dreds of thousands, and there never was sub
scription yet that didn't get his name for
something handsome. The other man failed
last week-all there was OF him to fail-and
isn't worth his salt; but he had rather take
the commercial disgrace of failure any time
than the social disgrace of being seen in the
streets with a bundle.'
Two different men, indeed! We shall take
off our hat the next time we meet Mr.. - on
the sidewalk. Long may he live and carry
bundles to make people happy.