Morning journal and courier., 1889-06-28

they hied to a clothier's, and having removed the rags, Lawson was quickly clad in
 dne raiment. The change was beginning to tell
 Already the tramp seemed to be the guide and treasurer. He was a splendid looking fellow and had quite distingue appearance. But the hat was still there, and mirror the make up: T. laughed when all was finished He was in his working clothes, and this unfortunate looked like duke. The good clothes fitted him, and they suited him and his appearance much too well to continue the assumption that Mir. Lawson was tramp. He was gentleman all over, and he looked 1t. T. said to him:
 ''Mr. Lawson, wish you would go into the shop before me. They won't know you and twill be such joke" ,
 ''I don't mind that, Mir. T@, but won't you let me have a drinkq I want it-please let me have drink"
 T. refused to stand the drink; he told MT. Lawson that if he wanted dinner he could have it, but drink he could not have. Finally the two went into the Ship and Tur- tie dining rooms, and over chocolate and Sir- loin steak the author of "Ever of Thee''
 told the following story:
 s'I was once rich, MT. T.. You know what am now. You were astonished 10 hear me play the piano so we'll. That little song has been the only companion from which I gained any comfort for the past twelve months. It brought back to me the and happy. Of course it has it's sad side for me. But the memory of what it recalls is the dearest thing in my existence"
 T. interrupted him at this point and indicated that it was growing late.
 "Please bear with me-" rejoined his com sanion. 'tLet me tell yen how and why I composed the little song. Tworyyears ago I met a girl in Brighton. If God ever allow! one of his angels to come on earth she was that one. adored her. She seemed to re- turn the affection. I escorted her every where, was at her beck and call morn, noon and night, and it was currently believed that Miss Blank and I were engaged I had to re- turn to London on business, and when came back to Brighton she-was gone.
 s'Three months after met her at 8 ball.
 She had just finished 8 waltz with a tall, good looking man, and was promenading the hall on his arm. She recognized me. But when said, How do you do, Miss Blanki' she quickly replied:
 "'rm we'll, MT. Lawson, but I am sur prised to hear you call me Miss Blank. When you left Brighton so suddenly I thought should never see you again. You lett no address, never called again, and we'll, I am married
 :tsTo whomrI gasped.
 "'To MT. Prize,' she replied, pointing at the same time to the gentleman with whom she had been dancing.
 "That ended my life. My Marie, my dream, was gone. 1 left the hall, went to low gambling place, and in drink and gam- bling endeavored to kill my grief. It lasted but a little time, for in fur months I was penniless.
 "Then came my trial. The men who played with me summed me. My friends shut their doors, and a few days later my last sovereign was gone.I was utterly strand ed, homeless and unhappy as 1t would be possible to make human being. For nights slept in the cabmen's coffee houses; then WAS considered a nuisance, and some doorstep served me for 8 bed. l pawned every trinket, decent suit of clothes-every- thing, and finally I spent three months in work house under an assumed name. "It was there the presence of Marie haunt ed me again. One day-Christmas dsy-we were at dinner. Several rich people came to distribute among us such gifts as tobacco. warm clothing, etc. I 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 I or some pipes and tobaccoF l looked up. It ! was Marie. I rushed from the table out into ! the fields, and there was found, hours after, | insensible.
 s'In my bed, there in that workhouse hos I pital, I wrote the words of the song you heard me sing today. Then got well, and sick ! or tlo-1E6 l 1eIG the place AuO UechIu0 uISAt ! watchman at some new buildings they were putting up in Aldersgate Street. While | there the music of my song came to me. l got scrap of manuscript music paper and jotted it down, and for a time I was happy. | My old friends often passed me at night jolly and careless, little dreaming that James Law son was the poor night watchman who an- l swered their indolent questions.
 'Often, when all was still, l poured out my soul in this little song, and after awhile l the night gamins used to come and listen to
 me. It pleased them. To me it brought
 back the memory of dead love and ruined l life. But you are tiring of my story. There l is little more to tell.
 l 1T could not endure the solitary Haedita-
 tion of my past. again began to drink. 1
 lost my situation, and as last resort l thought that perhaps my little song was 1 worth a few shillings, and brought 1t to ! Mr. Turner"
 At this the poor fellow burst into tears. l When he was himself again they went out, and few minutes afterwards MT. Turner, addressing Lawson, said:
 l "Mr. Lawson, here is ten shillings. It will
 be enough to get your supper and decent
 room tonight. Tomorrow morning want you to call here, and shall give you 6 ! good position in my warehouse. As for your
 song, I want you to remember this: If you
 keep sober will pay you good royalty
 but if you spend this ten shillings in drink, ! uOL AuOLucr pcuu9 WILL Ou SOt.
 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 I 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 | (an old one) was buttoned tight around his collarless neck, and his face was unkempt
 and unshaven, ss uncleaG as it was five days | ago.
 | MT. Turner looked at min. He did not ! even speak to him. The smell of bad rum sufficiently told him all he wished to knew. He took half crown from his pocket, hand
 ed it to Lawson, and turnsd on his heel. Ad- dressing MT. T., he said: ''If this man | comes here again, put him out"
 The composer of 'Evsr of Thee" immedi- ately left the shop, and heaven only knows what his fate has been. Certain it is that | he never called at Turner's again. | Men, women and children fsevery color and cline sing the song of the tramp, Law
 son. And the composer of his sad life are forgotten and unrecognized in the dear old song, "Ever of Thee"
 | A HIGH-TONED ROBBER. The Interesting Career of a Bold Bur glar.
 I The trial of Jeannolle the aristocratic bur.