The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1889-02-21
HIS LAST BLUE CHIP.
The Tramp Who Had Been Trained
For Journalism " orks a New
scheme.
From Texas Strings.

EClen6.
From Texas SiftingS
The tramp was very see1y individual
altogether, tall ana angular, with a W ebe-
gone hatchs t-faced and general air of dis
reputabiity about his makeup. His shoes
were ragged, 50 was his sack coat; his
trousers were patched, and he had no neck
tie. He might have been an ill-starred actor
or dog fighter gone to seed or a tramp
printer. but none the less, it was a grace
full attitude he had struck before the or
of the cottage as The lady of the house"
MADAM" he said, 'you see before you
the reck of one of the grandest chicken
handlers that ever opened game of soiree
in a New Orleans parlOr. Do you follow me,
madamp
The woman replied that she knew moth
ing of chickel fighting or of Louisiana
s. clety
sR"Well, madam, let me put it in another
form. l represent the remains
of Chicago's noblest work of art-an
untamed bunco. l have numbered among
my patrons the foremost men in Amer lea
| Why, it seems but yesterday that l met
Gen. Booth and introduced myself to him
as the son of his old friend and playmate,
| the president of the Skedaddels bank. An,
madam, if l could touch every one NEE as
touched Gen. Booth for uble X, |
would not be here cringing before your
lovely face and binding beauty. Do-er-do
you yet size me upHb7
The woman thought she didn't, but wasn't
I quite sure.
"'Hic facet sweterkasel' as Napoleon
said when he threw his last dollar on the
sevenIe n. Have you ever noticed an
actor, madam, when the fretful baOble of
soci tSs pampered favorttes is hushed by
the force of his magnificent impersona-
tionl Such was / once, years ago, ere
| sank beneath the sings and arrows of
outrageous fortune You see! you pdrtez
| UOuS?"
he woman was growing restless
"If you wan to sell a picter book or a
new double back-action can opener, young
man." she said sharply, ''show yer
samples. Don't keep boay here in the
| coll.'
"Well, madam, l am a ruined man, ire
| trievaby ruined. You see, | studied jour
nalsm at college and thought myself an
| other Dana. | was full Of hope when
| firsC set foot in New York and set about
| creating a sensation. | mag ned myself
city e1itor, then managlug editor.
| saw myself Oblitera ing the old
! 5 yle Of journalism and innuguratlng a
| new school. My name was heard every
| where. II was blazOned on the musty scroll
| of history and sent forever down the future
years. Wen, | didn't make much seusa-
| ZION or money, and III an evil moment l
| took to writing verses, hoping to supple
ment my small weekly salary. Don't shud-
der so; have paid in full the penalty of my
wrong Going"
He pulled out the tenpenny nail that
| served for a button on his coat, and, thrust
! ing his bony fingers into an inner pocket,
| produced greasy, much crumpled sheet OF
paper.
II call this my last blue chip, madam,
| because | have played it in every news
paper office east Of the Rockies. 1t is one
of those little poems that men of genius
| toss off in leisure moments. l never could
| bring myaelf to part with it. When | nave
shown it to my brother journalists they have
praised it. They did not offer SO ,uy it,
| lest they might lnjure my sensitive feell.4 Ks.
| But on the sire gCh of this poem they blow
| me off to a square meal and give me list
of the deserted barns for the next five miles,
or tell me TIE lay of the most vicious dogs
in their eiguborhood. Toby, as [ was
passing your house, ] saw your lovely face
at the window anti"
"Why don't you show your poem to the
woman over in that red houseW
"Ohl madam; she is not ike you. Pardon
my buntness, but as | sIw her sitting on
the back veranda she seemed as homely as
wire fence. She must be very ordin-
airy person, think. NO, below the aver
age, for she wears wig. But IN your face
I saw the angelic temperament, the refined
simplicity that would have turned Pope's
cynical shafts upon man and away from
woman"
81 think 1 can give you something to
eat sir, if you will stop in the dining
room" said the woman; "but l can't buy
your poem"
After he had eaten a meal that would
have staggered the giant of travelling cir
Gus, he bow ed himself out and started away
On his weary journey. But half a mile
further on be stretched himself out on fiat
shelf of rock, and, Lighting pipe, gazed up
at a wintry sky.
Originality is as good as money" he said
aloud "W hen | spent those six months at
Sing Sing, l thought it was clear waste
of time. But this little blue chip scheme
l concocted up there is dandy. When /
wa der toward the lilacs of louisa a this
winter fur my lungs sake, I'll try to sell il
to some of the boys on The grand southern
tour