The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1884-12-27
MA. SATURDAY. DECEMBER 81, 1884.
wILLFULlY DUMB.
Over Twenty Years in an Almshoass and
Speaking But Twice.

Over Twenty Years in an Almshoass and
Speaking But Twice.
In that very unromatic spot, the Port
land pocr-house, there is man who
may be of the blood ofthe pair described
by Scott:
There is man in Dryburg bower
Meier looks upon the sun;
There is monk in Melrose tower,
He speaketh word TO none.
Of this strange man the Portland
directory for the years 1859 gave the
following name and description: John
L. Attchison, No. 1874 Middle Street,
boards at the Elm House." At that
time he was in the dry goods line, in
company with his brother. He was q
young man of great promise, "quick
and successful in business, as one de-
scribed him; and was also fine scholar,
passionately fond Of reading, and q
great boo k-collector. He never mar
ried or set up an establishment of his
own, but had some rooms at the Elm
House, where he was favorite boarder.
Life seemed to be bright and full of
promise, when, suddenly, there came
great change. The keen man of bust
ness abandoned his store, the student
neglected his books, and the favorite OF
the social circle declined all invitations
and refused himself to all friends.
He retained his rooms at the Elm
house, but made complete change in
all his habits, remaining in his room all
the time, stunning the sun and fresh air,
and after little time refusing to speak.
For time he made his appearance at
the table twice day, taking his accus-
toned seat. Then he seemed to find
even that limited contact with the
world unpleasant. He would then go
down to the table, make a selection of
the article of food that struck his fancy,
and return with it to his room. His
friends tried to reason with him, but in
vain. He refused to talk, and at last he
was abandoned to his fate. He re-
manned at the Elm house until his prop
erty was all gone, and then his friends
sent for the overseers of the poor, and
gave him into their charge. 1t was
hoped even at that late hour his pride
might be aroused and he be led to re-
turn to active life, but he did not make
the slightest objection to being removed
to the poor-house. He was told that
his valuable collection of books would
be sold, but he declined even to talk
about the matter He was taken to the
poor-farm, and was told to go up to
work. He had made no objection to
being taken to the poor-house. He had
exchanged his elegant suite of rooms for
the one room of pauper, but he felt
compelled to draw the line somewhere,
and SO made the longest speech he had
been known to make for years:
II sweex | wont work"
He has kept his word. Since that
time more than twenty years have
passed and he has remained an inmate
of the poor-house, but he has never
labored in the least nor, so far as is
known, has the sun ever touched him.
He is now an old man of sixty-four,
very neat in his appearance, clean
shaved, erect, with fine, intelligent
face, an eye that is still bright, and a
step quick and vigorous. In twenty
years his only exercise has been his visit
three times day to the dining-room,
where he takes his food and then re-
turns to his room, and visit once a
week to the wash-room to obtain clean
garments. He looks after his room,
allows no one to enter it, has never been
sick, and, so far as known, has held NO
communication with the rest of the
world, except on two occasions. Once
he confessed trifiing fault, and once,
in reply to the request of an officer OF
the institution to be allowed to enter his
room, he said, II am engaged, sir. "
He never reads and seems to have for
gotten world that has forgotten him.
The cause that led to this great and
sudden change in his habits will prob
ably never be known, and he will carry
the secret with him to his grave. The
world has moved on, while he seems to
have staid behind. His mind is appar.
emily clear, and he is to all appearances
simply a retired business man. He has
been SO long a resident of the poor.
house that he is almost forgotten, and
it would probably be impossible at this
late day to discover the reasoS, disap-
pointment in love, or whatevcrit might
have been, that led him to his present
course of life.
What strange bits Of life histories we
sometimes find in the strangest places
Long years ago there was found at the
gate of the same Portland poor-house a
) stricken and helpless man. HE was {
little bit of an Irishman, a good little
! SOUL" said one of his friends: ''for, pool
} fellow! he made many friends. He wal
contented and apparently happy, bu
! could never be brought to tell where he
came from. He didn't belong here ane
! had seen better days, but Portland gave
J him home, and, recently, grave. H.
belonged somewhere, and probably lcf
his home when he found himself be
) coming helpless, and wandered here tt
|: die after some years of restful life.---
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