, 1884-06-03
TRICKS OF BEGGARS.
Adroitnoss, Cunning and knowledge
Worthy of n Better Cause.
Pen Sketches OF Professional Mendi-
ennts--A Calling Which Requires
Both Zeal and Industry
Capturing Unvnry.
cincinnati Enquirer. !

cincinnati Enquirer.
Civilization begets luxury and makes
necessary the artificial wants that nature
does not supply; hence the loss of them
begets beggary. Among themselves the
Indians have no beggars; but once taught
the art Of the white man, they rush to the
greatest extreme and become n nation OF
bcggars, until an Indian will rather beg than
rinse his hand to do the first stroke Of work.
Great cities are the homes of great beggars.
Ours is no exception. Some exhibit an
adroitness and cunning, a shrewdness and
knowledge of human nature thnt is worthy
n better cause, and a patience and philosophy
that's worthy a Diogenes, grovelipg about
the Sums of creation for the noblcst work
of God-an honest man.
"Beggars are INDEPENDENT wrote Charles
Lamb. They are landlords, and all the world
are their tenants. He is a universal creditor,
and no mans debtor. He keeps no books.
He roubles himself not about stocks and
their ups and downs. His merchandise is
all profit and no loss. Happy beggar, what
cares he for jailf 1t is but u retirement to n
boarding house where the state pays all the
expenses. No undertaken ever looks him in
the fnce as il to take his measures; nor will
disparaging biographies be written of him.
He lives merrily upon sorrows and trades
upon mhA lLlibita- All hCCiltnl, SUCH us u
broken arm or leg, is n God-send, not an af-
Fiction. Does it not supply him with the
means of livelihood
THE WHINING NEwsBoY.
Late at night, on Fourth street, near Race,
standing in the shade of one Of the doors,
can frequently be founl n young lad Of "A
boy, not knee high to u chew of tobacco, nor
half way up in height to a pint of cider half
drank up. In a whining, baby voice he is
crying, and you step up and say:
whats the matter, my little fellow"
Il fell down and wet all my papers, and pa
will whip me me if l don't bring him home
some money, and they are all muddy, and l
can't sell EN-"
It's fcarfully cold, the child is thinly clad,
and all our hearts go out to childhood suffer
ing, and in tatters in tho wintry wind.
well, / don't want to buy your papers,
but here's n dime" o.
And You give the young rascal the change.
So he works the game, and in the course of a
couple of a hours will rake in more dimes and
nickels than any half-dozen newsboys in n
weeks work. OF course nobody wants his
papers. It's too late, and if you did buy
them you'd find they were six months old.
Yet the game is a shrewd one, and works.
LEGLEss RIPPL
He's only got two legs. No they are not
legs. They are stumps. He is often to DO
found in the Broadway market. They called
him Little Mack" A man at least forty-fvo
years of age, had been n sailor, is n profess
sional beggar and abusive drunkard. His
stumps are his fortune. Who can resist a
man with both legs cut OFF, So he makes a
great deal of money. He is one of the most
impudent beggars l ever saw. He would
watch ladies making their purchases, and
when n nickel was given them as change he
began, first his begging and then his cursing.
Why didn't the police arrest hint They did.
but what judge would punish a legless Grip
plei So it was not until complaints were re-
peatedly made and he was often before the
police magistrate that they awoke to the idea
that he was the most vicious, malignant va.
grant nuisance that ever disgraced a city,
and he was punished according to his deserts.
N LEGGED NEGRO.
He is n one-legged negro, sitting on Fourth
street and again on Vine; but from morn.
till night he keeps up the perpetual drawl,
"Give me n nickel; please give me a nickel,
boss; and, if you stop to listen, II hain't had
nothing 70 cat Though his mother takes in
washing, and is said to be a worthy woman,
yet he begs for his whisky money, and fire.
quently makes enough to keep him in his
cups a week. The police have run him in
several times, and he's been out at the
Work on several occasions; but he finds the
trade profitable, and makes more Off the mis-
taken charity of people than he would by
work.
NO A TO STAY.
"Excuse me, sir, but amt you from Pitts
burgf' was asked me one night by n fellow on
the sidewalk.
"No, sir"
swell, excuse me-" edging a little nearer,
"but l thought you was an old Pittsburg boy,
and I've got no place to stay tonight. and
wish you could help me a Iittle.' So you
help him u dimes worth; lend to the Lord and
lay up treasures in heaven to the amount of
ten cents. He apologies, God-blesses you,
and says:
Pm not used to this sort of thing"
Hold on, watch him, and ten TO one he en-
tiers tho nearest dive and pours down a glass
of grog.
SQUARE UP M DOWN.
He's a red-faced, shambling-gaited, Turk
ing specimen, and comes boldly up:
MIR, l want u dime"
"What for-to buy bread with, l supposcT y
"No, sir; Ill ba honest with YOU he
shrewdly takes you for n man of the world,
and doesn't think he'll play the preacher
racket and ask for bread, but comes right
out and says, mo sir, l want n drink,
and want it bad, too. In fact, I'm suffering
for it."
The very impudent straightforwardness of
the vagabond captures you, and ton chances
TO one the racket works, especially with men
given to taking a drink themselves, and tho
beggar who knows you by sight, and perhaps
your name and business, judges shrewdly.
THE DUMMY BABY.
There used to stand on Fifth and Vine an
Italian woman who carried n dummy baby.
She was always rocking TO and fro, us though
keeping the sickly, wee bit of a thing quiet,
and when the winter winds whistled and the
cold rains drizzled, then the mother and
child were on duty, and what heart could re-
si-ti But that babyl 1t never cried. No
corner l%oafer, no matter how patient; no
regular passer-by, no matter how often ha
passed; no policeman, no matter how long he
watched, ever heard that baby cry. Nor
will they ever, for it was a dummy.