Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1891-01-16
STORY OF \ FoOTFAD.
A Criminal Tells How He Was Driven TO
Prey Tpon His Fellow Men Through
Dread of Starvation.

Would you please Introduce me 10 a
footpad?" reporter asked of the bIawny
and bronze policeman who looks after the
welfare of Cincinnati at the corner OF
Fifth and Walnut streets.
Il don't know no fo0tpads, replied
the copper, with huge grin Of amuse-
ment on his face.
But want to get acquainted with one
of that profession, said the reporter,
hoping by this weak sentence TO impress
upon the cops mind that an interview
with footpad was an absolute necessity.
If you do git acquainted with one OF
EN-, he said with a chuckle, you'll do
more n tn cops at headquarters.
Was the reporter to be foiled in the at
! tempt to meet one of the beings who take
! their promenades on dark thoroughfares by
night? WIS the brilliant scheme TO Sc
cure a story of a footpad's life to go for
naught? Nixy! When the reporter 5
mind noiselessl ly gave vent to this express
sion he resolved to find footpad if he
! had to turn one and then swear out a
warrant for himhself for compromising a
| felony.
But he was not driven to the extreme,
| and neither was be complied to walk there;
! lie found his eagerly sought-for foOtpad,
! street, and more than that, was introduced
| by detective.
Now amt no footpad." remarked
! Sam for this was our hero's christian
| cognoman, " although used ter be. When
was kid of twenty. | got three years
on a bad job that w2zH t want nick.
Dis cop knows de job | mean. wuz
footpad fur Just month, as the scorn job
did wuz me last"
How did you come to adopt the pro-
fessiOn?' queried the reporter
DE same ez you came ter dopt de
newspaper writin' business: ter earn my
lIvin' O course. | uset ter work III 4 to-
blcco factory. and one day about five years
ago we struck-dat' $ all, all of us fellers at
the factory struck. We wanted more pay,
didn' git it, so we walked out. | wuz
idle for three months, an me poor mud
der was staryin' n
Here, Sam, that'Il do now" broke in
the detective, you know your mother has
been dead for ten years. "
"Ah, what's eatin' ye? | didn't mean
me real mother; | meant me stepmother,
and the look of scorn on the fellow 5 face
was worthy of a great actor.
Me poor stepmother was nearly starvln
ter det, n | sez to meseIf, sez !, Sam, old
boy. ye'd better be gettir up an husttin.
Well, hustle did for monts but | couldn't
git no job. | put advertisements in the
nOosepapers, went around ter all de fac
tories and went into good many big
stores. but it wuzen' no good. Dey didn't
want nobody, or dey wanted ruference, or
| was told to call agin. Jis put yourself
in my place and see how you d feel, without
Il dollar IL your pocket and your credit all
gone.
Wall, one night a pretty swell lookin
feler wuz waiin' long Eighth street
near Race, when in pullin' out his hand
kershief he dropped his wad. Say, pard
ner wuz you ever nearly dead from hun
ger, and smell de smell from de kitchen ov
swell restaurant?' 1t yer wuz n ye
did, ye kin jist git an idear O de way |
felt when dat wad dropped on the sidewalk.
| wuz boun' to git it, if | had ter kill de
feller what owned it. He wuz a pretty
fly duck, an wuz drinkin' pretty heavy
dat night. | know it, cause follered him
pretty ns T two miles round saloons and
joints Bout II o'clock he wuz on Thir-
teent' n Race, n was putty dark. Now
sez |, is me time, n | walked up quick
behind him. tripped him up and clapped
me hand over him mout' when he fell on de
sidewalk wild me other hand swiped
his roll n den scooted up a aleway while
de feller was hollering bloody murder.
When got home, fOun dat de roll.
what thought was Il thousand, wuz op'y
sixty dollars. | was kinder knocked out
wen counted it, but den thought it wuz
putty good nights work. / paid a good
deal o what | owed roun' town wild de
Doodle, n never thought no more bout
get in stuff dat way. | tried bard to get
work afore me rainy-day stuff leaked
through, but it looked as dough de world
was dead again me n was boun' ter make
me crooked. | couldn't git notten ter do
n den | lost me credit agin-a man allus
does wen his moneys gone-'n' me poor
mudder-'
Here. Sam, stick to the truth, broke
in the detective.
Yes, please stick to the truth, appeal
ed the reporter.
"WeIl, you two dinky-dinks makes me
want ter 90 Ter de hossiptal. mean me
step-mudder wen say me lnudder. But
anyhow began ter look 'roun' for me
man wen me stuff began to glimmer, n
one night spots him comm ont O de
Grand Opera House. He had a damon
in his necktie n he wuz fuller'n goat;
he had been put out O. de teayter for bein
full n he wuz out for a night fun. | fol
Tered him. and den his nibs here pointing
to the detective) foIlered me. | didn'
see his jobiots here. | wuz watchin' ne
man. got him in a dark corner IN Long
worth street n slugged him. Ez | vuz
goin' trough him his nobs here pushes
gun in me face, calls de wagon, n | got
tree years.
DO you think you deserved this pun
ishment?" asked the reporter.
Il dunno whedder did r not, " replied
the footpad in a thoughtful way. II
know | tried to git bread de wrcng way.
but, in burst of philosophy. - couldn't
starye ter det, n de world owed me
| livin'. Dere's two r. tree ways o collectin
! debt, n took the footpad way. Since
come out O de pen dough I've bin workin
at my trade n I've bin honest. Amt |,
! Jim?"
You have, - replied the detective.
Then this man is not foorpad now?"
| queried the reporter, in tones of semi dis
appointment.
mo. sir. He told you mainly the
| truth. "
He was only an ex-footpad, but his story
was true, and as an experience it will have
to suffice.