The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1889-10-25
A PITIFUL SCENE.

venerable oil man, hale and hearty.
stood before Justice Duffy at tho Jefferson
Market Police Court, New York Although
the SHOWS of nearly seventy winters hat
whitencd his head and moustache, he was a.
straight as an arrow. He had Roman feat
nres, flashing gray eyes and a ruddy com
ploxion. He held q silk hat in his left hand
and his attire was faultless. A smaller man
made prematurely old by dissipation, stool
at his side. His clothes were shabby, and h,
twlrled his frosty moustache with tremulous
fingers. His hollow eyes had G !cyar;sh lus-
trc, and there were deep lines in his face.
His manner was apprehensivc, and he
moistened his lips with his tongue as he
pleaded with the white-haired gentleman.
Judge" said the Romar,-faced veteran in
courtly Manner 81 wish you would com
NIT my son to the Island. lie is a hopeless
drunkard. 5 1t is my only hope for his re,
Father, oh, fotherp exclaimed the man
at his side, In accents Of grief, mot this
time, not this timel Please give me one
more chance"
There were tears in his eyes The old man
was as immovoble as statue. He kept his
almost pitiless ho urged the Judge to send
him to the workhouse.
Don't listen to him, Judge" said the
younger man. "Hc don't mean it. Oh, I'm
sure he don't mean it. Father doesn't know
what hc is saying"
"Be quiet" said the Judge. eve will hear
you in due season Old age must have the
precedence. Gray hairs must be respected" Z"
a., In set terms the stern parent again urged
the punishment of his son. He had evidently
he was as firm rs q rock. Not for nm instant
however, would he trust his eyes to look upon
his son. Though deaf to his entreaty, tho
sight of his boys misery might soften his
heart.
Are you this gentleman's sonso asked
DnfTv nj he
''He is my father, Judge" was the rcply.
after the fervrish lips had again been moist
cncd.
How old are your the Judge inquired.
"Forty-three years." was the almost in
audible answer.
"Forty-three years. exclaimed tho Judge
in a tone Of surprise. 'Is tpossiblc9 Dissipa
ton has made you prematurely old. You
are older in appearance than your father
Then turning to tho father, he asked: "For
now long do you want your son committedy'
The old man was stone. lie had not taken
his eyes from the Judge. "For one year." he
replied in an impassive tone.
''Oh father" broke i'm the son i'm a thin.
tremulous voice For Gods sake don't make
it year. Give mo three months. riI try
and be satisfied with three-not more
Please, Judge" turning to the bench appeal
m&iKvI i9' 9efv,ih i}1asasau g,apt'@ suHareis-An.
the background, "he'll say a good word for
me-"
Ihe tatner was ODuurate. Inc son pleaueu
so strenuously that even tho heart Of the
Judge was touched. 81 might make it nino
months, he said, with an observant look at
the old man.
Twelve months" tho Roman urged, de.
spite the sobbing of the degraded son.
Father" the son cried, mot twelve, il you
ever loved ME. Make it six, oh, Judge, make
it six months. I'll take six months Willingly.
but not twelve"
at is the Judges duty to fix the term of
imprisonment" the police justice sternly
said "You must both remember that. I'll
give you five months, and il you behave
yourself I'll let you Off before that time"
THANK you, Judge" the young man
sobbed. you have treated me better than |
deserved"
He turned toward the father, but the iron
willed parent had abandoned him, and was
walking from the courtroom as stiff as q
ramrod. The commitment was made out
and the officers took the son into prison.
Five minutes afterward the unforgivine
father stood in the corridor Of the downtown
elevated station at Eighth street weeping a:
though his heart would break