Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1890-03-21

lAaL ebutu my me hl MaIleJ my
dream, was gone / left the hall, went to
low gambling place and in drink and
gambling endeayored to kill my grief It
lasted but little while for in four months
| was penniless.
Then came my trial The men who
played with summed me. Ny friends
shut their doors, and a few days later my
last sovereign was gone was a utterly
stranded, homeless and unhapp as it
would be possible to make human being.
For nights | slept in the cabmen's coffee
houses; then | was considered nuisance
and some doorstep served me for bed.
| pawned every trinket, decent suit of
clothes-everything and finally | spent
three months in work house under an
assumed name
1t was there the presence OF Marie
haunted me again. One day-Christmas
day-we were at dinner. Several rich
people came to distribute among us such
gifts as tobacco, warm clothing, etc. |
was hungry and didn't look at the visitors
when suddenly voice | knew said to Inc:
Ny good man, which would you prefer,
some VAIN clothing or pipes and tobaccof'
/ looked up. 1t was Marie. | rushed
from the table out into the fields, and there
| was found hours after, insensible.
In my bed there in the work house
hospital, wrote the words Of the song you
heard me sing to-day. When | got we'll
and sick OF the life, left the place and be
came night watehmen at some new build
ing they We're putting up in Aldersgate
street. While there the music of my song
came to me. l got a scrap of manuscript
music paper and jotted it down, and for a
time l was happy. Ny old friends passed
me al night, jolly and careless, little
dreaming that James Lawson was the poor
night watchman who still answered their
indolent questions.
Often, when all was still, I poured out
my soul in this little song and after
while the night 9amins used To come and
listen Ia me Ii pleased them. To me 1T
brought back the memory OF a dead love
und a ruined lie. Bat You are tiring of
my story. There is little more to tell
II could not endure the solitary medita-
tion OF the past | again began To drink.
/ lost my situation aud as last resort /
thought that perhaps my little song was
worth a few sLillings, and brought it Ia
Mr.. Turner
At this the poor fellow burst into tears
When he was himself again they went out,
and few minutes aitelward Mr. Turner,
addressing Lawson, said,
'Mr Lawson, here is ten shillinga, 1t
will be enough to get your supper and
decent room tonight To morrow morn
ing l want you TO call here and | shall give
you good position in my warehouse. As
for your song want you to remember this
If you will keep sober / will pay you II
good royalty, but if you spend this ten |
shillings in drink not another penny will |
you get"
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 entered it. His vest was gone; his |
boots were exchanged for old ones; his hat |
was-well, it was an apology Tor hat. |
His coat (an old one) was buttoned tight |
around his collarless neck, and his hair was |
and face unshayen--as unclean US |
it was five days before. Mr.. Turner look
ed at him. lie did not even speak to him. |
The smell Of bad rum sufficiently told him |
all he wished to know He took half |
crown from his pocket, handed it to Law
son and turned on his heel Addresssig |
Mr.. T, he said:
If this man comes here again, put him
out
The composer of "Eyer Of Thee" at
once Immediately left the shop, and
heaven only knows what his fate has |
been. Certain il is that he never called ut
Turner'S again.
Men, women and children OF every color
aud cline sing tho song Of the tramp, Law
son. And the composer and his sad life
are forgotten and unrecognized in the old
song, Ever of Thee"