The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-10-16
A PITIFUL SCENE.

A venerable old man, hale and hearty,
stood before Justice Duffy at the Jefferson
Market Police Court, New York. Although
the SHOWS Of nearly seventy winters had
whitened his head and moustache, he was as
straight as an arrow. He had Roman feat
ures. flashing gray eyes and ruddy COM
plexion. He held silk hat in his left hand
and his attire " as faultless. A smaller man,
made prematurelS- old by dissipation, stood
at his side. His clrthes were shabby, and he
twirled his frosty m, ustache with tremulous
fingers. His hollow syes had feverish lus-
tire. and there were oaep lines in his face.
His manner was apprehensive, and he
moistened his lips with his tongue as he
pleaded with the white haired gentleman.
Judge" said the R'man-faced veteran in
a courtly manner, II ,7ish you would COM
drunkard. 1t is my only hope for his re-
formation"
''Father, oh, fatherm exclaimed the man
at his side, in accents Of grief, mot this
time, not this time! Please give me one
more chance"
There were tears in his eyes. The old man
was as immovable as statue He kept his
eyes fixed on the Judge. In terms cold and
almost pitiless he urged the Judge to send
him to the workhouse.
''Don't listen to him, Judge" said the
sure he don't mean it. Father doesn't know
what he is saying"
'sBe quiet" said the Judge. "Wewill hear
you in due season. Old age must have the
precedence Gray hairs must be respected" |"
In set terms the stern parent again urged
the punishment of his son. He had evidently
steeled his nerves before entering court, and
be was as firm as rock. Not for M instant,
however, would he trust his eyes to look upon
his son. Though deaf to his entreaty, the
sight of his boys misery might soften his
heart.
care YOU this gcntleman's sonT asked
Judge Duffy Of the younger man.
'He is my father, Judge" was the reply,
after the fervrish lips had again been moist
ened.
"How old are your the Judge inquired:
"Forty-three years." was the almost in
audible answer.
"Forty-threc yearsm exclaimed the Judge
in tone of surprise. is it possible? Dissipa-
ton has made you Prenaturely old. You
are older in appearance than your lather."
Then turning to the father, he asked: For D,
how long do you want your SON committed"
The old man was stone. he had not taken
his eyes from the Judge. "For one year, he
replied in an impassive tone.
''Oh, father w broke in the son in thin,
tremulous voice. "For Gods sake don't make
it year. Give me three months. I'll try
and be satisfied with three-not more.
Please, Judge" turning to the bench appeal
ingly, tInake it three months. Here's Mr..
Msnierre here" pointing to gentleman Ill
the background, "he'll say good word 10!
me-" :,
The father was obdurate. The son PLEADED
so strenuously that oven the heart OF the
Judge was touched. 81 might make 1t nine
months" !" he said, with an observant look al
the old man.
Twelve months" the Roman urged, de-
spite the sobbing of the degraded son.
Father" the son cried, mot twelve, II you
ever loved ME. Make it six, oh, Judge, make
it six months. I'll take sixmonths willingly.
but not twelve"
sit is the Judges duty to fix the term Of
Imprisonment" the police justice sterniIy
said. "You must both remember that LII
give YOU FIVE months, and if you behave
Yourself pll let you of before that time"
"Thank you, Judge" the young man
sobbed. "You have treated me better than
deserved
He turned toward the father, but the iron-
willed parent had abandoned him, and was
walking from the courtroom as stiff as
ramrod. The commitment was made out,
and the officers took the son into prison:
Five minutes afterward the untorSlvlng
father stood in the corridor Of the downtown
elevated station at Eighth street weeping as
though his heart would break.