Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-11-09

lasted but a little time, for in four months l.
was penniless. Then came my trial The
men who played with me Stunned me. My
friends shut their doors, and few days later
nv last sovereign was gone. was utterly
stranded, homeless and unhappy as it would
be possible to make a human being. For
nights 1 slept in the cabmen's coffee
houses; then / was considered a nuisance,
and some doorstep served me for
bed. l pawned every trinket, decent
suit Of clothes everything, and finally
spent three months in a workhouse under
an assumed name, 1t was there the pres
ence of Marie haunted me again. One
day-Christmas Day-we were at dinner.
Several rich people came to distribute
among us such gifts as tobacco, warm cloth
ing, etc. was hungry and didn't look at
the visitors; when suddenly voice I knew
said to me: My good man, which would
you prefer, some warm clothing or some
pipes and tobacco?' looked up. It was
Marie. 1 rushed from the table, out into
the fields, and there was found hours after
insensible.
IN A woRKHoUsE HOSPITAL.
'In my bed, there in that workhouse hos
pital, wrote the words of the song you
heard me sing to-day Then / got we'll,
and, sick of life, left the place and be
came night watchman at some new build
ings they we're putting up IN Aldersgate
street. While there the music Of my song
came to me. / got scrap of manuscript
mueic paper and jotted it down, and for a
time was happy. Ny old friends often
passed me at night, jolly and careless, little
dreaming that James Lawson was the poor
night-watchman who answered their indo-
lent questions. Often, when all was still, 1
poured out my soul in this little song, and
after while the night gamins used to come
and listen to me. It pleased them. To me
it brought back the memory of dead love
and a ruined life. But you are firing of my
story. There is little more to tell. could
not endure the solitary meditation Of my
past. again began to drink. I lost my
situation, and as last resort thought that
perhaps my little song was worth few
sbiilings, and brought 1t to Mr.. Turner"
At this the poor fellow burst into tears.
When he was himself again, they went out,
and few minutes afterward Mr.. Turner,
addressing Lawson, said: HMr. Lawson,
here is los It will be enough to get your
supper and decent room tonight.
REAL APPRECIATION.
Tomorrow morning want you to call
here, and shall give you good position in
my warehouse. As for your song, l want
you to remember this: if you will keep
sober will pay you good royalty; but, if
you spend this los in drink, not another
penny will you get
Lawson left the shop, and did not make
his appearance for five days. Then he was
in a condition almost as bad as when he first
entered it. His vest was gone; his boots
were exchanged for old ones; his hat was
well, it was an apology for hat His coat
Gan old one) was buttoned tightly round his
collarless neck, and his face was unkempt
and unshaven-as unclean as it was five
days before. Mr.. Turner looked at him.
He did not speak to him. The smell of bad
rum sufficiently told him all he wished to
know. He took halfcrown from his
pocket, handed it to Lawson, and turned on
his heel. Addressing the clerk, he said,
'If this man comes here again, put him
out"
The composer Of "EYer of Thee" immedi-
ately left the shop, and heaven only knows
what his tate has been. Certain it is that
he never called at Turner's again. Men,
women and children of every color and
cline sing the song of the tramp Lawson.
And the composer and his sad life are for
gotten and unrecognized in the dear old
song. JOHN HOPE.