The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1888-11-29

| WOULD ICU GIVE ME ONE CENT, STRIP
inal color, and his trousers hung about
his emaciated legs like stocking about a
pipe stem. Upon his sallow face was
four weeks growth of stubby black beard,
His face w:;s dark and his ewes had that
pale, sckly CLEAN sometimes seen under
the dry hush of an onion. He walked
| with slow, shambling, uncertain stem
and his shoulders dropped as though he
was al gone inside and every minute he
expected to collapse. The very AFFECT
ness OF his condition fascinated me, and
while still loathing him watched his an.
proach with interest. As he came up to
me he seized the elbow Of his left arm BY
putting his right hand behind his back.
In this curious attitude he spoke:
Would you give me one cent, sir2"
This he said in voice which seemed to
come out of the very sub cellar of de.
spalr, so monotonous was it, so utterly
bereft of the ring of hope.
mo. sir, replied, II could not"
he made no reply in words, but his
elbows lifted slightly and his long finger
nails, which wore mourning for departed
cleanliness, sunk into the palms of his
hands. Like man who felt that death
was stepping on his heels, he turned
away. Ihere were a dozen other men
seated in Battery park, and to each one
OF these he in turn put the same question
that he had to me- He met the same
reply each time, for as he turned away |
could see the sharp elbows lift with a
desPalrlng gesture and the sallow face
harden into corrugated lines One man,
who looked jolly and well fed, perpetrated
CHASTITY joke by putting his hand in his
trousers pocket when the mendicant
asked him the fatal question and pro.
ducing paper of tobacco Then Mr..
Jolly read Mr. Misery little homily on
the injustice of poverty, and over Mis-
ery's face there spread shadow of a
grin, and such a grin as may be seen on
the face of mummy. 1t was if he had
said; did starvation ever roost in your
stomach for three days?" "Will he Jump
of the dock nowf" wondered to myself
No He is actually "bracing" park police
man. The gray coat simply waved him
away with his club. Then, with a cour.
age born of his awful need he tackled
two officers at the door of the barge office,
but without success He stood upon the
sidewalk and passed his hand YEARLY
across his forehead, as if he was awaken.
Ing from dream.
a feeling of curiosity had prompted me
70 follow him. Does he need whisky or
breadr' l thought. determined to find
out, and so | beckoned him into dark
corner around the barge Office The fires
Of hope must have been enkindled in him. |
Tor two tears rolled out of his eyes and / |
tancied could hear them fall spat! spat! |
upon the stones.
Are you hungryf" said l.
Il didn't eat anything in three days."
he replied.
care you dryf"
No, sir; there's water in the park"
is your favorite restaurant near byP"
Yes, sir. Up in Greenwich street"
well. come along"
And as we went toward his restaurant
pumped him by the way Twas long
md sorrowful story he told. His name
was George Moore, and he was a Cornish
miner.
Times was better, sir, said he, when
came to this country eight year ago.
lie see, heard there was money to be
made In the coal mines of Pennsylvania, /