The bee., 1883-03-24
WRECK OF LIFE.


Who Has Not Where TO Lay His Head.
While encamped in Mainetown not
long ago, writes correspondent Of the
Lewiston (Me. Journal, seedy and
broken. down man slouched into hotel,
made himself at home in an armchair
and picked up newspaper. An aged
citizen who observed him remarked to
me: The story of that mans fall is
one Of the saddest and most startling
histories ever met in life or in fiction.
That man was born in this town. His
father was a wealthy farmer and land
owner. By hard, stern labor and close
economy, he amassed large property.
He educated his son at Harvard
college, from which he was graduated
with honor and high standing in his
class. The young man studied law
with one of the most eminent practi-
tioners in Boston, and was admitted to
the bar. He possessed unusual talents.
He was brilliant in conversation, was
ready and sharp debater, and his cul-
ture was thorough. He established an
Office in one of the suburbs of Boston.
His father gave him library worth
$1,000. He acquired good practice.
In the whirligig of time he was elected
to the Massachusetts senate and an
"Hon." was prefiXed to his name. He
became one of the prominent and most
promising young men in the Common
wealth. By-and-bye his father died and
left him $4,000. This completely up
set the young man. He was in such
haste to get and spend his money that
he left his office without stopping to
lock the door, and abandoned his Ii
brary and furniture to whomsoever
might come. His creditors seized his
books and sold them to pay his old
debts.
He set up a grand establishment in
this town, and lived the most glitter
ing life on the Kennebec. He had
horses, carriages, dogs and servants.
He rolled in luxury. His voice was
potent in so;iety and politics. His
fortune was invested chiefly in real
estate. He was soon obliged to mort
gage some of his property. 1t seemed
as if he could not waste his riches
rapidly enough. lie gambled and
drank heavily. When the mortgages
became due he paid no attention to
them, and they were foreclosed. One
by one his houses, blocks and lots
slipped recklessly out of his hands.
He pursued the same mad course.
Night after night he allowed himself
to be fleeced by gamblers; and day
after day he stupefied his senses with
liquor. At length the old homestead
was sold under the hammer. The few
resources that remained speedily melted
away. His old friends forsook him.
His wife had died and his two sons
had left the scene of their fathers
ruin and disgrace. For the last six or
seven years he has been what you see
him-an outcast. An old friend fur
nished him with quarters in an attic
and fed him for Willie. He became
so mis- erable that it was impossible to
bear his presence, and he was set adrift
on the world. One winter he slept in
the corner Of an engine-house where a
fire fire was kept. For several months he
was known to fling himself down on
heap uf rags in a deserted building on
one of our wharves. The building was
burned. Where he now sleeps is
mystery. He hangs around the streets
till late hour at night, and improves
some opportunity when the night
watchmen are on the beats to steal into
his hiding place, wherever it may be.
Sometimes an old friend gives him
dinner.
Hehaunts the waste-buckets of hotels
and saloons. have cen him picking
a piece of bread or bit of meat from
pail of broken food destined for the
pigs. He drags along half-starved
existence in this way. | suspect he
passes many day without particle
of food, and goes to his covert many
night with an awful gnawing in his
stomach. He is clad in odds and ends
of clothing. 1 doubts if he owns a
whole shirt. Every cent of his $60,0N
has flown. He earns nothing. He
refuses to ask aid from the town, and
he is too proud to soil his hands by
work. Many of his old COMPANIONS
look upon him with pity and sorrow,
and would help him if he manifested
the least disposition to help himself.
His sons do not come near him. A
short time ago the ladies made purse
and presented it to him, with the un-
derstanding that he should open law
Office, furnish it, and mend his ways
and endeavor tD do little business.
He accepted the money and it went the
old way. His pride and assumption
displeases his best friends. One day
last winter one of our leading citizens
noticed the poor fellow had no over
coat. The good Samaritan had one OF
his coats repaired, and it made COM
Portable gar nent. From motives of
delicacy, he asked mutual friend to
present the coat to the man before you.
The man called the shivering man into
his hall and gave him the coat. He
disdainfully turned on his heel and re-
fused the charity with an oath. The
coat was allowed to remain in the hall.
That very day it disappeared; and it
was afterward. seen on the fellows
back. IL is no wonder such treatment
cools the hand of charity.
He has grown thin and sallow, and
is rapidly nearing the gulf at the bot
tom of the hill. He cannot last
much longer, unless he obtains his sub
sistence from some source less precari-
Gus than back doors.