The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-01-04
THE ROYAL TRAMP.
Baron Bharland's Death After a
WOndrOus Burst of Melody.

cannot tell you the name he was known
by here, for others bear it still and it were
! better that it were forgotten.
He was the natural son Of the late King of
| Wurtemburg and his mother was the only
oman that the King ever truly loved, but
| royalty has its slavery, more CALLING at times
| tn an the letters of the lowest bondsmen,
| and reasons of state com PEELED l0ftier alli-
ance for his Majesty.
| The boy, Who had been given the courtesy
title OF the Baron Bharland, grew up sur
| rounded by every advantage that wealth
| and favor could insure him. As his tastes
began to form themselves he developed
| passion for music, which was fostered and
aided by all that celebrated masters could
| impart.
At last the Able List took the Young
musician under his charge, and added to the
solid foundation already laid those delicate
finishing strokes which can only be supplied
by masters hand.
Introduced under such favorable auspices,
the young musician might have enjoyed
brilliant career, but upon the establishment
of the North German Federation the King Of
WuTtemburg found his power and income
much curtalled, care and anxiety finally
brought on fatal illness, and the King at
ter years of poverty i'll Paris passed away,
leaving the young natural son wholly un-
provided for.
Karl came to America soon after and at
once secured splendid position among the
piano-masters of New York. His pupils
were from the wealthiest and oldest fam
lies. and his fees were princely. But soon
his fatal weakness began to develop-a love
for drink and debauehery.
Constantly falling into new trouble and dis
grace, repeatedly disappointing his wealthy
pupils and neglecting all social and pro-
fesSional duties, he soon began to lose caste
and was compelled TO content himself with
poorer class of patrons
These, too, be neglected, disappointed and
disguised, and falling lower and lower in
the social scale he was reduced to the lowest
and most dSreputable professional work,
and even in the meanest position his disso-
lutte habits were constantly bringing him
into disgrace, although when seated before
the piano, even in his most scottish state, his
genius would assert itself, and he still
charmed his hearers with his brilliant mu-
sic, while his slovenly. disreputable appear
ance disguised every one near
We lost sight of him for many years, but
one cold. dreary day in December, the last
OF the year, Mr.. Shermer, the Boston music
dealer, was crossing the common with
friend, when the latter pointed out a wretch
ed, bloated tramp seated upon one of the
benches by the pathway.
DO you not recognize that man? ?" asked
the friend.
mo, indeed" replied Mr.. Shermer, why
should I?"
Because it is Karl -, the natural son
of the King of Wurtembnrg."
MY God" exclaimed Shermer, in tone
of horror. for he had known Karl in his best
and brightest days.
That evening the clerks at Shermer's place
were surprised TO see filthy, beSotted vaga-
bond shuttle into the store, and with va
cant, dreamy look i'll his eyes walk toward
Il grand piano that stood near the door.
1--WE have nothing for you," said clerk
sharply, to the disreputa BILE looking crea,
ture.
II don't want any money!" said the tramp.
in thick, husky voice. II only want TO sit
down before a piano"
The superintendent was called from his
office and informed of the strange reouesto of
the squalid intruder, and from pure curios-
lily allowed the outcast to have his way.
God bless you'll" said the vagrant and
with weary sigh he seated himself before
the splendid instrument, and, with fingers
stlIened by want of practice, but with the
expression and soul of a true artist. bepan
the opening strains OF the moonlight Son
alta of Beethoven.
Clerks, customers and workmen. every
one IN the establishment, dropped their oc-
cupatl0n ana talk to listen to the tender.
soulful tones that rolled from beneath The
hands of the besotted outcast. WV
At last the sonata was tinishad ana +ho
wretehed creature rested his head mon his his
heqds and bent over the piano 80 LONG
ana silently he sat there that at last one Of
the statesmen, thinking the man had dropped
asleep, stepped up to the bowed figure and
sh9ok MIN gently by the arm As he did so
the head fell back and displayed face all
Whle and rigid, from which the wide-open
eyes stared fixediy.
Karl was dead!
ms Is no fancy sketch, but an incident