The Louisiana Democrat., 1891-05-20
OLD WlLLIE's QUEST.
A Bowery Character Whose Experien
Demonstrates Bo&ery sympathy.


Demonstrates Bokery Sympathy.
nThere's d characters" said the clerk
Of twenty-five cent Bowery hotel, in.
dicating shabbily-dressed old man
who stood with his back to the stove.
willie, come over here minute.
The old man by the stove evidently
answered to the diminutive name. for
he glanced up to see who called, and
then shuftied quickly over to the desk.
'Tell the gentleman about yourself,
Willie" said the clerk.
Willie took off his dilapidated hat to
the stranger, and said: "rwenty-five
years ago l had daughter. One day
she went away and left me. She was
mighty pretty, and not moren fifteen
years cid. Where had she gone? No
one could say. l began my search one
night in March, twenty-fv years ago.
hunted for ten years. and never found
her Then one night in winter l saw a
man and woman crossing this very
Bowery. l looked closer, and there
was my child. 1 called. Julia! Julia!
She turned her head and looked
at me. ! was hurrying up to take
her hands, when saw that she
was leaving me. She and the man went
fast through the crowd, and fol-
lowed, calling Julia! Julia!' A police
man stopped me, and then they all
laughed. l had lost her again. That
was fifteen years ago. I've never seen
her since, but I'm still looking, and I'll
find her yet
''Well, life has gone hard with you,
hasn't it?" said the stranger. Suppose
you have drink. You look cold.'
''Thank you, won't drink. I'm not
so very cold. The trouble is my kind
friends give me thin coat to wear in
the winter and thick one to wear in
the summer. That's the way it was
with the Italian that keeps the fruit
stand out on the corner here. He gave.
this little blue coat to me last Novem-
ber, and l pawned the old thick one.
that the cigar man gave me, because il
had the most holes in it,"
"Are you very poor?"
''Not as long as stay right in this
aeigh borhood. The cigar man lets me
sleep on the floor in his shop, and this
good young man here lets me have the,
use of the hotel office"
"Where do you get your food?"
SIT comes to me from various direc-
lions. / have the same trouble with
that, though, that do with my coats.
| get piece of sweet rice pudding for
breakfast as rule, and buckwheat
cakes for dinner, when, of course, the
order should oe reversed. It is left over
in that way"
swell, you expect to find your daugh
ter some day?"
''Yes I'm seventy-six now, and [
think will live ten years longer. In
that time shall meet her again. l am
always on the street, except when l
step in here or at the cigar-store to get
warm. will bid you good day, sir, and
start out again on my hunt."a
The old man hurried out into the.
Bowery and disappeared in the crowd.
s'The worst of it is" remarked the.
hotel clerk after he had gone, "Old
Willie's daughter has been dead for ten
years and he's never been told of it,.
She was pretty queer, and after she had.
gone down the full limit she committed
suicide. We all heard of it, but thought
it best not to tell the old man. Itwould
have killed him, think, and now he'll
die hoping up to the last minute he is
going to find his Julia. Poor old duckp'
N. Y. Sun.