Milford chronicle., 1889-01-18
THE TRAMP's STORY.
he Tells of Time When He Was Happy
with His Wife and Baby.

.
with His Wife and Baby.
'Do you see thin shelvesg"
Yes, I saw lot Of shelves on both sides 0
the postofEice corridor, on which peopl
wrote postal cards or assorted their mail
what about themf
"Jist look at thin tramps there,n wa
Dennis reply, and as we followed the di
rection Of his finger we saw perhaps a dozel
| dilipidated tramps leaning on the desks
Some were old, others were young. Some wer
merely dirty others were filthy. All lookeC
cold, all looked starved. All were tramps
but they all pretended to be writing letters
That's the way they work it, growled
the old watchman. Hi, therel" he ex
claimed, as he shook his cane at the tfamps
and the line Of highway kings toppled to
ward the doors like tenpins struck by ball
YES" continued the watchIS2n, 'they g
out, but they'll all come back through another
door. You see they come in here when III
cold and pretend to write letters, or say they
are expecting letters Twenty or thirty Of
them are always here, and it keeps an old
man like me busy, Say, it's time for that old
fellow you saw me fire out to be in on the
other side. Let's 60 around to the Park row
side"
There he was again. His head was nodding
on his breast, while in his hand was pack of
greasy old letters His mouth opened as if
about to say 'Im 'specting a letter." when
bangl slaml crashl Dennis fired him through
the swinging doors.
Out on the pavement we expected to find
the old tramp a battered wreck. But, "Ah!
there, coppers," he remarked cheerfully to a
couple Of hurrying policemen, touching his
hat politely, Il see that in spite Of all pre-
dictions the stars are out tonight Good
evening, gents!"
called to him, "Say, old man, come over
to Hitchcocks"
"a hostelry, presume" +" was his response,
and offering to take my arm, which denied
him, he accompanied me over to the place Of
beef and" Once my tramp had been
good looking man, but now he was broken
down, middle aged, blear eyed ''bummer. -
A hideous scar on his left cheek emphasized
the malignity Of his expression.
Dear old Boston," no sighed, as he shovel
ed in the beans; Il say dear old Boston be-
cause / am a Bostonian. Yes, and once was
proud Of it, too. But now, oh, Lord" and
the old wretch pretended to snivel.
MY story" he continued 'Ahl l was
once a business man in the town of Arlington,
Mass. made a good living, had a pretty
wife, children, comfortable home and all that.
thought l would go to farming, because my
health was not good, and put all my savings
in nice little farm in Hampden, little town
near Bangor, Ne That was twenty-five
years ago, stranger. There We were happy.
l used to skate in the winter up the Penobscot
to Bangor for our groceries and for the exer-
else. could take q bag of coffee under one
arm, a ham under the other tie a sack of
flour on my back, and if the wind was with
mo could skate those eight miles in half an
hour, stranger" The old fellow warmed to
his narrative and proceeded:
But my wife wasn't happy. She pined
for Boston, and somehow didn't seem to see
that she looked forward for the times when |
would skate to Bangor. The neighbors, re-
used to look curious, and by and by |
noticed the old women ceased to talk when |
drew near A shadowy fear began to |
hang over me, but tried to laugh at it.
But one day, sighed the tramp, lit came. |
Ny wife has been nervous all day. She had |
been to the postollice every mail, as if she ex-
oected letter. 1t was the day, too, on |
which 1 was to skate to Bangor. But it /
ooked so stormy that 1 said 1 would not 20.
Ny wife looked frightened, turned pale, and
wen then l did not suspect"
A9 q et4Al = was tAGlLeQ now ana went |
By and by she called to me and said, Jack,
7ou must go to Bangor; baby has the Group.
And she said it as if she meant it, too.
tranger. l put on my skates. The wind
vas against me, but I did not know it. Tho
CO sped under my feet, the shore glided by
nd the clouds could not keep pace with me
The dark frowning hills on either side of tho
Id Penobscot rose and fell as dew on tho
nf MIN
hree and four. Half wayl With every
nuscle strained and my body glowing hlsea
mnace, my heart torn with pain, l rushed
II in the darkness.
"Harkl What was that? MY heart al
lost stopped beating The wind had in
reased into a hurricane What was that 1
lw before met Oh, heavensi Around High
lead, in front Of me in the dim lights OF the
tile city, was wide expanse Of foaniug
'ater dashing the ice field into millions Of
The ice was going out and was
! the middle of the riverl
well, stranger, when the ice goes out Of a
reat river in tho teeth Of wild storm. it
oes. 1 can sec now that horrible white line
foam plunging up out Of the darkness and
Vooping down on me. lean feel myself dart
YER unbroken patches of ice like a swallow.
remember how jumped from one cake to
mother, and sometimes that awful feeling Of
sspair and exhaustion comes over me as 1
'cal how made that last fearful plunge Tor :
le shore. My head struck something and ! q
III not como TO until the cold waves had
renched me through and through again as 1
y on the beach at High Head Istagsered
my feet bleeding from the wound that
fused the scar that have carried ever since.
man driving by was kind to me and took
10 TO doctor who-liYed near by.
Wen, stranger, there amt much more to
H. got home in less than an hour. She
as gone, but she left letter telling me that
irhaps some time she would write me when Y
g thought that l might like to see my baly.
'metimes when l am taken a little worse /
an an usual these cold nights expect letter"
New York Herald 6
North North Carolina has a colored auntie named {
oveFty Simmons, who is 100 wears oId Pos. :
.SiiiS several thousand dollars vorff :;
'operty, Auntie Poverty is not a membor =, ]
the society Of that name.