The morning news., 1892-02-21
HE MUST DO 1T.

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those who hurried along and sought TO hide
themselves from their furious frenzy. They
moaned and howled about the caves and the
sharp corners OF the massive buildings ike
restless ghosts risen from their troubled
sepulchers. The sky was bare Of clouds,
for no speck of vapor could stand before
this mad gale. but it looked cherries
and almost shivered in the chilly embrace
as you looked upward in pleading for a ray
of cheer and warmth. The sun strove nobly
TO smile upon the world, but even his bright
rays we're almost swept before the onrush-
ing chariot of the wind, and the warmth
concealed into beads of ice long ere it
reached our upturned faces. The day
looked almost sad and forbidding
All the day long the storm had kept up
its wild whirl and it was now 8 o'clock.
Past you hurried a shivering figure, aud
now and then rushed by numbering dray
or cart, the teeth of the hapless driver
chattering In the cold.
Pressed close down, almost hidden from
view, beside a tall pole driven into the
earth on the corner OF the great and busy
| thoroughfare, sat a man, his face pinched
and drawn with the biting cold, with
| huuger, and more than all, with despair and
| humiliation. Each outline was clearly
| drawn and stood out in the boldness of
blood upon his white face. BE had once
been all that man should be; strong and
| hopeful, with the freshness of vigorous
health flowing through his veins, but see
him now. What change; what a sad and
pitiable changel He squats upon the cold,
| hard pavement with nothing but his scanty
garments to keep out the biting cold.
hugging the tall, lifeless pole and the low
stone curbiug, seeking TO shield his thin,
( weazen frame from the merciless winds.
Heating ice with ice it seemed. A mere rag
for a coat; shirt of red flannel that had
seen no better days than its wearer, and
| these were poor enough indeed. His shoes
were fit companions for his shirt, and his
hat made no apology for its holes and fab
biness. His fsce was of ashen whiteness.
except the tinge Of dlnginess given it by the
| fine dust that the ruthless winds had driven
| into its gaunt folds.
| At the poor fellows side sat a little in
strument that could hardly be honored with
| name, giving forth in spasmodic Jerks,
| wheezy, disjointed and discordant sounds.
With the single finger remaining on the
left hand, he turned the little crank and in
cessantly poured forth the Inharmonious
notes; music il was made to mean, but what
pitiful travesty indeed. Could the poor
fellow who turned the frail crank, have in
spired it with some of the sorrow and pathos
that was gnawing at his own heart, surely
its notes would have carried out to the
world piteous appeal that could not have
been passed unheard and unheeded. But
no; he could not and all that he could do
was to sit there praying and crying some
times. il seemed. as l watched the constant
changing OF his face.
Barred to the cold and pitiless winds was
the upturned stump of his right arm. Mis-
| fortune had severed the hand from the
strong wrist and left him almost a child.
This cold, almost bleeding and raw stump
was the mute pleader for the sympathy and
aid OF the world, but oh how often is it
passed unheeded.
| Upon the fiat top Of the little organ was
a small tin cup, picked up In the streets
and washed OF its filth and dirt in the waters
of the public fountain-all that is free to
such as he. But not a penny or a dime
| jingled upon its metallic bottom to make
sweet music for the unhappy ears of him
| who sat there patiently and turned and
turned the cold winters day through. Per-
| haps the world was too busy, too absorbed,
to give heed; perhaps it did not
hear the low notes of the little
| organ, or perhaps 1t did not care. know he
was saying to himself as he ground away.
| He did not have the heart and courage to
speak; to open his lips and beg for money;
but sometimes as l watched him, he seemed
| to be trying to tear them apart and speak
| as some passerby hurried along. But no.
| the words would not come. He would look
out into the cold, wind. swept street and
then upward to the pale skies, bow his head
upon his bosom. and could see the hot
tears tricklinR down his pale cheeks, and al
most hear through the loud soughing of the
winds, the inaudlble sobs that were rending
his heart.
Prosperous merchants, busy buyers and
dealers, wealthy bankers and men OF leisure
| and pleasure, rushed hurriedly along, their
furs and heavy wrappings drawn close
about their chins, warm, comfortable and
happy. never turning to look down upon
their poor fellow creature literally grovel.
| ing in the dirt at their feet Wise philoso-
piers. gentle philanthropists, learned doc
| tors and professors, walked slowly by, for it
was busy corner. revolving in their great
minds deep and intricate problems OF sci
ence. generous and gentle plans for the
amelioration of the sadness and sorrow of
the world; fne-spun theories, indeed they
are, lar above the humble
hearts and heads for which they
are woven; cogitating upon and
deeply absorbed In the hne-cut ethics of
psychic thought and research SO deep that
| the common mind staggers whenever it
| dares to bend, even for short moment,
and look down into the bottomless abyss
so dark to them, but where others profess
W sec 50 LnuCn ugnt ana nope; problems OF
the soul and finer being l0,000, 900 centuries
hence, while the poor mortal flesh burns
| and fritters away in the oven of this earthly
world OF ours; aching with its innumerable
pains, writing in its agony of body and
mind, tossed and buffeted upon a TEN pest
uous sea, praying and begging like an
| obsequious cur for little bread, for a pen
| ny, for thought, kind word, glance,
but how often is the prayer in vain.
AS the day fades the winds abate In their
| fury, and roll along the paved streets like
great billows Of ethereal ice, moaning dis
mally about the corners Of the buildings
and whlstling drowsily around the caves.
Upon the busy corner two old gentlemen
meet and link bands in generous greeting,
the one with long, snow-white locks and
flowing beard, the other tall and portly
with closely shaveh face, with deep, wavy
rolls OF flesh folded about his chin and
cheeks Though far out in the wide ocean
OF lie, health, happiness and comfort were
| yet theirs. Their horid faces were wreathed
In smiles, or deep thought, as they
stood there close together, discussing
| momentous plans of finance and wealth, each
with millions at his command, yet neither
| OF them dropped penny into the little
| empty tin cup upon the little organ; not a
| thought or glance did they give to this
silent beggar at their feet, though they
almost trampled upon him as be squirmed
! upon the ground. They did not hear the
wheezy, discordant notes Of the little organ,
did not see the lead-like luster of the empty
can. The humble beggar'S mute appeal