San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-12-29
AN UNLUCKY TOSS.
STORY OF A NEW YEARS GIFT
THAT WAS NEVER ENJOYED.

The Old Adage, There's Many a Slip
BetwiIt the Cup and the Lip" Illus
trated in the Case of Beggar and
His Coin.
He was Il tramp. A miserable, ragged,
rum sodden apology for man, without
one redeeming feature. He had not
worked Cor ten years. His was hang
dog appearance. and now and then he
furtively glanced around as if expecting
a policeman to arrest him for living.
He stood in the postoffice corridor
and gaZed out Of window through the
darkness at Newspaper row opposite,
and pondered. 1t was the last day of
the year. He hadn't a friend, but then
he did not want one. All he knew was
that he was hungry, and his chronic
thirst consumed him still.
He thought of the morrow. The new
year caused him no remorse Cor his vast
ed life. He never was of high estate, so
that his fall had not been mighty He
wondered if he should go through the
day. as he had at Christmas, without
dinner. The postofice clock pointed to
IL. He leaned on the broad window sill
and dozed
Through the corridor from the Broad
way side came brisk footsteps timed to
CHEEKY whistle. Our tramp reused him
self from his lethargic gloom and looked
around. 1t was n young man, bright
and breezy. Joy shone in his eyes. He
may have just received u letter from
Miranda; maybe ne had collected bad
debt. More probably he had just made
lucky strike on the races At all
events he was happy. His audience did
not appreciate this, however. He only
saw in the well dressed chap possible
victim. So mechanically he stepped for
ward, held out a dirty paw and num-
bled the well worn refrain in which the
words "hunger-sick wife-tive chill
dren' could be distinguished.
Imagine his establishment when the
young man paused, after q cursory glance,
pulled out coin, handed it to the beg
gar, and was off still whistling. The re-
cipient hurried to the light to inspect his
treasure; he fairly gasped-it was dol
lar. He did not pursue the philanthropist
to put the traditional query, did you
mean to give me this, siry' Not he! Out
of the postoffice he ambled toward the
Bowery, that Mecca of all such as he, at
faster gait than he had known for many
month.
A short distance beyond the bridge a
thought occurred to him. What should
ne do with his money? The sudden CLEAN
of paradise had scattered his wits. I'm
decided, waveTing, he sat down on the
walk under street lamp with his feet in
he gutter and mused He thought of
turkey. but the word was mockery-he
had not tasted any for years. He now
sketched rapidly an ideal bill of fare;
bean soup, pork and beans. and-ye gods!
plum pudding to top off! He figured
the cost. Why, he would have enough
left to take him TO theatre, and even to
sit down stairs, for once, like a lord.
But now disturbing thought crept in
He had forgotten sOmething-rum. His
programme was accordingly amended by
the substitution of rum for theatre.
But another question now arose to per-
pick him. Should he eat first or drink
first? He drew out the precious money.
Now the old sporting instinct asserted
itself. He would let chance decide, as
any gentleman should. The coin was to
pay the bills, and it should guide his
choice. If head came uppermost, the
rum first; if tail, the meal.
Up he tossed it, high and straight;
down it camein the same path, but miss
ing the outstretched palm it struck the
sidewalk on its milled edge. Impish,
glittering, exultant, it rolled off the side
walk into the gutter, jumped two or
three little burrows of dirt, lodged an
old cigar stumpand disappeared into the
sewer at the corner.
"Come, move on out o that" said
policeman rs he whacked his club close
to the man on the curb. New York Sun