Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-12-25

Written for The Evening Star.
The Trsmp's Chrastmas.
"Merry Christmas," Wen, yss,- It ID, "msrTy.n yen
! Bnt l haven't seen any merriment yet;
When chaps out of luck and the folks pass him
nv
With a scornful side glance from the end Of one
eye,
| 1t knocks sense and sentiment out Of his head
And makes him feel bad and just wish he was
dead. 80
"Merry Christmas'" Oh. resi- it may be to the
Who have turkeys and chickens and puddinss and
- SIGH; x
But tell you what. mister, to poor chaps like me,
Such wish rs that ere, sounds like foolnR. dye
see? :. .+
"Was always tramp" MOI that deal yOu may
pass; ...-
might just as wen ask, We're you always an
Vest I've seen better days-went to college and
At the top of the list with the wise and the good;
A nd Ma seemed to think that a preacher I'd be,
But that game wouldn't work. "Why." because,
dye see, -
My Dad was preacher good, able and true,.
With but very small pay and u great deal to do.
So made up my mind that for me twould be best
To bid home goodbye and make tracks for the
west. 70
ibid strike it7" Wen, no; not exactly, and yet
managed good decent living 10 get;
And saved few hundreds. In hopes soon to he
With the dear home, that so lOnged to see;
When black-bOrdered letter that for months had
gone round
All the camps, at last reached :me. and by It
That Father and Mother Cscuss me suus rather
strong
Had gone to that heaven they'd lived for so long
ANY brothers or ssters!" Well, yes! there were
. fye!.
Three of us died young and there's two now alive;
Ones me! and the other-ah! she was pearl
The light Of our home, such bright handsome
girl
Was our own darling Nellie, our chirruping bird;
But she's married and settled out west SO I've
heard
"Whai broke me:" Well, mister, the news cut me
rough,
Mountain-fever came on and not over tough
My pile smaller got till 1t melted away,
And spent my last dollar a week Just today.
Yes! mister its easy for yOn to say Jump
In the wagon would for think you're trump;
And I'd like square meal, but I'm weak, there's
the rub,
For this is my third day without any grub.
No! not up ON the seat, but down herein the hay!
think I'll feel safer If you let Inc just lay
Right down in the wagon, for j fear shall fail.
But stop! look We here-praps yer mssus1l squall
When We bring to the house poor beggariy scamp;
For the women are not over fond of Q tramp
What! mot kick up q fuss" Well, perhaps you
are right; .... ...
Anyhow I'll be glad of q shelter tonight.
Yes! II ID nite housed and think-yes! I'm sure
mat the woman is smiling that stands at the door,
And the little girl by her ooh, my! near felD
With the curs and blue eyes, looks just Ike our
Nell!
And that voice, too! know it or I'm dreaming, I
think,
Or it's weakness, for sartin, amt tasted drink
To make me feel queer, and to stagger like this
No! there amt no mistake, twas my sisters own
What, Nellie you're "real glad" to see me, you
"a say, g.
And I've longed to see your face many day.
And that wee one with curls is your own little
girl; .....
Why, Sis! it just sends my brain all of a whrl.
And this is your hnsband-hes regular brick!
Not too proud to pick up poor tramp that Is sick.
"Merry Christmas" he said, when he pulled up his
team,
And it feels all so good that hope faint dream.
For life. seems to me, now to take a fresh start,
And feel that it's Christmas right down in my
heart. KY. j. HARRIES.