The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-06-27
CHAPTER w.
A FOOL AND HIS MONEY.

Drane had occasionally reflected upon
the possibility of such misfortune as
had overtaken him, though he had
never carried his imaginings to the
point which the actualities of the case
had reached. He had supposed in a
general way that there were plenty of
things to be done by a man in such a
position, but when he ran over the list
in his mind he realized that every
course of action involved painful hui
miliatioe. He knew that there were
many charitable organizations which
sometimes assisted the distressed
and at other times distressed the
assisted; but he could not re-
of any of them, with the single excep-
tion of the Society for the Prevention
of Crueltypto Animals. 1t hadn't come
to that yet, he thought, but there was
no telling when it would. He had gone
to sleep a gentleman and had walked
up tramp; an equal drop in the next
twenty-four hours might make him a
chimpanzee or COW
The thought was not pleasant, and it
that or his hunger stimulated his men,
ory, for he suddenly recalled the fact
that gentleman with whom he had
had some dealings by letter was in busi
ness on Murray street. He asked a
policeman where that was, and the re-
ply fairly staggered him. 1t was miles
away. He felt that he should fall dead
of hunger before he covered half the
distance.
He leaned against lamp-post in ut
ter WEAKNESS, and closed his eyes.
Then he heard woman's voice behind
him, saying: 81 hoped that you would
come to see Mrs. Bowers, and have
waited to thank you again for what you
did to helpme."
''When | heard your voice." said
Drane, turning to greet his acquaint-
ance of the morning, 81 thought L must
have died of starvation, and been ad-
mitted to paradise through mistake in
the records. You can not imagine what
friendly words are to man in my po-
sition."
"And have you really suffered from
hunger?" she exclaimed, while the tears
cams to her eyes. "Ah, that is horrible!
Take this" land she put silver dollar
into his hand); sit should be multiplied
thousand-fold if could but prove my
identity, and then / should feel that l
had done but little for you. There, do
not say word now. 1 know that you
will repay mo. Oh, dear me! there is
Mrs. Bowers; she is coming down the
steps; she will be here in a moment.
Hurry away, but write to let me know
that you have come out of all your diff
iculties."
"Where shall address you?"
''Oh, dear! don't know; can't think
of any place at all except that park
where we met"
"That's hardly an address, you know
said Drane, trying to be blithesome,
though Mrs. Bowers was hearing down
upon them very fast. 81 hight Try the
general post-otfce but don't know
your name and"
''And it isn't necessary that you
should" put in Mrs. Bowers. "Come
along, my good girl. He is not fit &C
quaintance fo- you"
She dragged the younger woman
Lawrence, half crazed at being thus in
terrupted, was following them when a
hand was laid upon his shoulder; and,
as he turned about, the policeman who
had directed him to Murray street stood
before him.
Look here, young feller," said he,
81 saw de young woman give you some
thing, an that's enough for you, see?
Don't you follow her no more"
Drane couldn't abide the idea of an
other incarceration, and he obeyed the
policeman's instructions, with wrath in
his soul. And yet, when he cooled
down bit, he perceived that his condi-
ton had been ameliorated to the extent
of one silver dollar, a consideration by
no means to be overlooked. He had
never till that moment realized the
value of money. In the blessed thought
that he could at last buy something like