Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-07-05
Law GouId and Uncle Baker,

1t is an exceedingly nimble fellow citizen
that ever gets the advantage of Mr.. Jay
Gould. And yet 1 have myself on two oc-
casions seen him, in sense, at the mercy OF
the most God-fersaken of human beings
One was quite recent when on walking
from his office to his home, as is his custom
for exercise, being for q moment without
the escort OF young George Gould who had
halted to speak to friend, he was SO impor-
tuned, hustled and Extensively pushed to the
wall by foul old beggsrwoman, evidently
having no idea who the little big man was,
that to rid himself of the hag he pumped a
pretty heavy piece of coin into her rheumy
and trembling hand. The other, was the
most remarkable Dives-Lazarus scene /
ever expect to look upon; one strong, un-
expected and dramatic enough for great
situation in fiction or upon the stage. 1t
occurred in the summer of 1882, in the
open upper, or La Sale street, rotunda OF
the Grand Pacific Hotel, in Chicago. There
was then in that city, if he is not still
living, a venerable old wreck, most famil-
lar figure about the streets whom every one
knew as "Uncle Baker" His story briefly
was that, once a merchant of Cattaraugus,
New York, the financial troubles of 81 had
nearly ruined him; he had transferred the
remnant of his fortune to daughters who at
once became another Regan and Goneril;
and the old man, half demented at their
base ingratitude. shortly became confirmed
tramp about the streets of Chicago. "Un-
Gle Baker" with hands folded plaintively
in front of him, with bowed head and trem-
bling gait, seemed never at rest. At all
hours of the day and night you would meet
him, pushing op and ever on, as if endlessly
studying that one problem of filial ingrati-
tude. He never begged. He was never
known to utter an ungentlemanly word
Liquor never passed his lips. A few of us,
touched by his pathetic life and ways, saw
that he did not physically suffer, when we
could keep track of the poor old fellow;
though we could never secure his consent to
provide for him in any charitable institu-
tion.
On the occasion referred to Gould was
guest at the Grand Pacific. Before 8o'clock
in the morning he was stirring. About the
same time "Uncle Baker," after his morn
ing custom, trembllngly began his daily and
undisturbed march through the two rotundss
from Clark street to La Sale. The en-
ployes always greeted him civilly. In a
spirit of innocent mischief, told him that
his ''old friend, Jay Gould, was waiting up
there behind the column, by the telegraph
window, to see him."
Hating a moment as if to accustom his
feeble sight to the dim light Of the place, he
made straight for the column, and in an
other moment had grasped the astonished
magnate's hand
"Mr. Gould, said the old man trembling
ly, you and 1 did a good deal of business
together at one time. Most people despise
you. They believe you unkind, cruel, un-
just merciless.'
Gould wriggled, but "Uncle Baker"
would not release him.
''It has always been one of the few hopes
of my Ii e." he continued, 'to be able to
teen; thank you for few unsolicited kind
nesses; and to show you one human being
in rags"-her ''Uncle Baker" drew himself
up proudly-"who is SO little that, with all
your power you could neither help nor harm
him; and to add with the most respectful
sincerity that, great as you are, he pities
you and your joyless life, barren of one dis
interested friend, with an unutterable and
inexpressible pity from the bottom OF mis-
heart. 1 beg you to pardon this intrusion
and to say good morningp'
Then while the amazed man of millions
wiped a film he seemed to think had gath
cred upon his steel-rimmed eyeglasses
though he looked for the dimning of his
newspaper print in the wrong place-the
man of rags shuffled away; the telegraph
window came down with a sharp click; and
the memory voices that had a moment since
given Jay Gould almost a youth ul and
hopeful face, were drowned by the music of
the instrument, which, upon the heels of The
little play, was merrily transmitting the
words of this one little man that too often
make and unmake his fellow men.
EDGAR l.. WAKEMAN