The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1885-02-12
WHAT A CENT WILL BUY,
The Meager Expenditure Possible With =
Solitary Copper.

The Meager Expenditure Possible With Z
Solitary Copper.
The man who has only a cent is very
little better off than the man who is
without a cent. Hardly anything Of
value to life can be purchased for a
cent, and indeed the familiar copper
coin was not inaptly described by a
Washington square tramp as "a coin
of exceptional aggravatingness." The
wandering gentleman had seen better
days, and, although there are doubtless
times when his mouth can equal his
nose in disreputable demeanor, the po-
lite overtures and the cigar of the
newspaper man were received with sem
tences of appreciation betraying past
which included education.
LAS | take it," said he, "a cent is
just the amount of money the street.
car people swindle out of every passen-
ger-and cents in piles are not to be
despised, else you can buy an eve
ming paper with murder in it, that s
about all. Now, as l don't ride in
cars, and don't care much about the
new police regulations which l read IN
the paper, l always wait until l get
another cent, because with two cents /
can get dip of rum. It's bad liquor,
but don't it tickle your throat?" and
the wandering gentleman chewed for a
while on his tongue.
"A cent is the meanest coin on
EARTH" he continued with vehemence
"Old ladies would always give you a
nickel, and so would benevolent old
0n1u tho
est-of course you say thank you, SIR
and 'Gawd bless you, num- but you
feel inclined to chuck it back, anyhow.
What can you get for it? Nothing;
not even enough bread to kill hunger
for while-thank you, SIR" and the
tramp slouct d away with an eleemo-
synary dime, down Seventh street,
slumwards, and disappeared through
the portals of the Blazing Rag"
Close to that unsavory hostelrie there
are several little stores called "gener-
al shops" where the very poor buy
nearly all their necessities. The news
paper man entered one of the stores,
and, finding an old acquaintance of
former stories behind the counter, was
soon in discussion on the cent and
what can be obtained for that coin.
81 guess a good many of my custom
ers are cent ones,' said the store-keep-
er, brawny Irishman, 'but it's pre-
cious little that they get. You can buy
this roll" showing very diminutive
loaf, ''but there amt more than four
bites in it; or you can take your choice
of crackers, two of them, or four of
those, or one of them, but they'd be no
use to a hungry man. You can buy a
head of cabbage for cent, but cab
bage amt no use without a fire to
cook it, unless you're a goat or rab-
bit. Then you can get bit of soap,
brown, coarse stuff, which makes every
thing smell what it washes, or a cents
worth of snuff, or tobacco, or a skein
of thread, or two needles, or one
pickle, or one onion, or apple, or five
sticks of wood, enough to start fire,
or short tallow candle, or paper of
vinegar, or some coal oil. The oil is
about the best thing you can get, as it
is enough to keep lamp burning at
night. Then you can buy two envel-
opes or two sheets of writing paper, a
box of matches, six gum drops, u
monkey on stick, a shoe-lace, small
package of pepper, starch, or good
lump of salt, or large handful of
soda. and that's about the list.
IFS the tive-cent piece that's the
coin of the poor of this country, not
the cent In England a penny can buy
a good meal. There are soup kitchens
all over London where you can get a
bowl of thick pea broth or stewed eels
for one copper, or you can buy large
piece OF fried fish, or bag of fried pO-
tatoes. or half pint of beer or porter,
or half round or more of bread, or a
rashcr of bacon, or a sleeps tongue.
or a big plate of Irish stew, made of
potatoes and Australian mutton, or
thick slice of plum pudding, or plate
full of peas pudding, You can quite
satisfy your hunger for penny in Lon
don, just as you can for a tiye-cent
ri roe here. but you can't do it for a
cent and l hope you will never have to
try"
A young woman entered the store,
dirty and unkcmpt, but good-looking,
and purchased a cents worth of snuff.
That's the former wife of the old
blind beggar," said the storekeeper
uC L /tSo NlOlc tli dUOub tuC Liz
riage three wears ago. She's left him
now, got divorced. she says, and now
she's taken to snuff and young man
as mends umbrellas. 1t was all on ac-
count of the yellow dog"
How do you mean?"
"Whv, when the baby of the blind
man was christened last winter, as you
remember, cause you was present,
Mrs. Flanagan, the mother-in-law,
threw a flat-iron at the yellow dog and
broke its skull. just because the poor
animal felt deserted that evening and
took to howling. The blind beggar
valued that dog an awful lot. loved it,
so TO speak. and wouldn't believe but
what MS wife had egged her mother on
to killing of it and they never were
friends again. The baby died and he
didn't go to the funeral, but the fuss
he made over the body of that yellow
dog was trying. You see he and that
dog had tramped lots of miles together
and quite understood each other. He
took the dogs carcass with him to a
vacant lot somewhere near Manayunk,
and there he got friend to dig hole
and drop the dead animal in it. He
tramps up, they say, to the place, now
and then, where the dog lies, and l
heard as how more than once last sum-
mer he gathered big punches of pan
sizes in the park just to place on the
spot. They are building over the lot
now, and should not be surprised if
the old blind beggar has the remains
dug up and put somewhere else. |
guess he regrets he hasn't no family
vault. Still, human nature goes out
to a dog sometimes-even yellow
| dog. Mo- (to would-be customer),
1--WE don't make no cents worth OF
| ham. philadelphia Press.