Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1891-01-08
AN UNLDCKY ross.
STORY OF A NEW YEARS GIFT
THAT WAS NEVER ENJOYED.

h'hN' W. H6HGn GNSSNGOs
The Old AdRge, There's Many . Slip
Betwixt the Cup and the Lip" Illus
trated In the Case Of a Beggar and
His Coin.
He was tramp. A miserable, ragged,
rum sodden apology for man, without
one redeeming feature. He had not
worked for ten years. His was a hang
dog appearance, and now and then he
furtively glanced around as If expecting
policeman to arrest him for living.
He stood in the postofice 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 q 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 for 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 q
dinner. The postofice clock pointed to
II. He leaned on the broad window sill
and dozed. -H-I
Through the corridor from the Broad
way side came brisk footsteps timed to a
CHEEKY whistle. Our tramp reused him
self from his lethargic gloom and looked
around. It was a young man, bright
and breezy. Joy shone in his eyes. He
may have just received letter from
Miranda; maybe he had collected bad
debt More probably he had just made
a lucky strike on the races. At all
events he was happy. His audience did
not appreciate this, however. He only
saw in the we'll dressed chap possible
victim. So mechanically he stepped for
ward, held out dirty paw and num-
bled the well worn refrain in which the
words "hunger-sick wife-fve chill
dren" could be distinguished.
Imagine his astonishment when the
young man paused, after 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, Ibid you
mean to give me this, sir2" Not hel 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
o month.
A short distance beyond the bridge
thought occurred to him. What should
he do with his money! The sudden CLEAN
of paradise had scattered his wits. Un-
decided, wavering, he sat down on tho
walk under street lamp with his feet in
the gutter and unused. He thought of
turkey, but the word was a mockery-he
had not tasted any for years. He now
sketched rapidly an ideal bill of fare;
bean soup, pork and beans. and-ye godsl
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 q 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-
plex 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 came in 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 furrows of dirt, lodged an
old cigar stump and disappeared into the
sewer at the corner.
Come, move on out O that" said a
policeman as he whacked his club close
to the man on the curb.-New York Sun.