Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1889-04-04
A CRITICAL SITUATION.
The Sandwich Man Relates the
Story Of His Life.

AS was walking through one of the prin-
sipal London streets the other day, on my
way to fulfil a business engagement my at
tention was attracted by one of those huge
posters which plentifully beSprinkle the
walls of the city. In resounding tones of
red, blue and bright vermillion, it called the
attention of the public to the fact that the
stirring sensational melodrama. of deep do
nestle interest, entitled: For Life or Death;
or, the Graves Witness" was then being
performed to overlooking audiences at the
Royal Lorne Theater. Just above the
printed announcement was picture repre-
senting one gentleman apparently in the act
of boring hole in the floor with another
gentleman's head, and which took to bear
reference to the printed notification below
Ny momentary curiosity satisfied, turned
to proceed on my way, when my eyes en-
countered those of man standing by my
side-a man whom had not noticed before,
and who might have been the very ghost of
a sandwich man instead of a sandwich man
in the flesh. so suddenly and quickly had he
come upon me. Yet, there he Enthusiastically
was his tattered old frockcoat, once the
pink of fashion, frayed at the edges, worn
to shreds at the seams, and bullying at the
elbows; the trousers darned and patched in
a dozen different places, but now gone far
beyond the last stage of repair; the patent
leather boots broken and down at heel, and
almost soleless; the battered white hat
with black band round it, and the brim all
but gone; the bulbous red nose, the tremb-
ling mouth and the bleary eyes that told
their own tale. / stood for a moment star
ing at this sudden appearance without any
particular reason, and he, in his turn, star
ing at me- This pause, awkward enough in
all conscience. was of that character in
which one of the parties feels impelled to
make an observation of some kind in order
to get decently away. Before l could open
my lips, however, my companion anticipa-
ted me.
striking sort of picture that, " he said in
dry, husky voice, and with an apologize
kind of sniff
IF colOring has any thing to do with it,
should certlinly say it was striking enough"
replied.
'Ah!' he returned, ''you seemed inter
ested in it, but I'll warrant you are not half so
interested in it as am. There's not soul in
all this city that understands that picture as
/ do. The worst of it is, when once start
looking Pm unable to leave it for thinking
of what this play once did for me. Then
the police have to move me on and that gets
me into trouble. Even if l would forget
the past, l NAV not for-look here r'-he
pointed TO the two boards slung over his
shoulders as he spoke, and showed me the
inscription. "For Life or Death" in light
ring zigzag letters.
"Manv people stop to look at the posters
here and elsewhere but there is not one of
them to whom it means what it does to me.
To YOU and them It is only a picture badly
designed, clums silly cut and worse colored.
tn mo is he story of my lfa.s De-
haps youth Non1e r what Pm driving at If
you care 10 lislen for a few moments will
tell you" BE glanced at the open doorway
OF one OF the old city churches near at hand
Come in here ;" he said: Its quiet and
shady. and when III ere's no one about they
sometimes let me go in there for rest
You may like'to hear what / have to tell,
and shall be glad to get these internal
boards of my shoulders for a few momenta"
Thoroughly interested already in spite of
myself-perhaps more by the mans man.
ner than anything e!se-I followed him.
Entering the porch he took the boards on
his shoulder and placed them against the
wall, and taking his seat on the bench just
inside the doorway, drew pocket handker-
chief from his pocket and mopped his fore
head with it
ITO begin with" he said, after moments
silence, ''let me tell you that my name is
Edward Morton. Perhaps you will not be-
heve me il / say that was once upon
time-what Of all things in the world do
you think-a dramatic criticl Yes it's true.
What is more, dramatic criticism was the
beginning and end Of my downfall. and this
is how it happened. 1t was about ten years
ago, and soon after started my journalistic
career in the provinces, that took a situa-
ton on one of our great daily papers-The
Blunderer, to wit This succeeded in OBJ
tanning through the influence of friend at
court, and, for youngster just entering