The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1893-02-15
True Story of a Tramp.

He was in rags-a regular tatterde.
malion. His weather. beaten face and
blesred eyes told of exposure and disai.
patton. Standing in the door of saloon
one freezing, windy night, with the
bright light pouring full upon him, he
looked the picture Of desolatiou and mis-
cry.
"Hello, ragbag |" shouted one of the
boisterous crowd at the bar. "Come
and have something good to thaw you
out"
emo, thank you," replied the poor
wretch, "but if the proprietor will al
low me to go back to the fire and warm
1 will be very grateful for the kindness"
Gall right, go ahead" sang out the
bartender; "you look like you needed it
as much as any fellow I ever saw" In
deed be did; the half clad form shook
with the cold.
"You are fool for not drinking some.
thing" deliberately, but not unkind-
ly, remarked the man who 6rst greeted
him.
"He'a temperance lecturer out Of q
job," chirped a convivial gentleman.
"No; I'll tell you, boys, he's an OBJ
iect lesson sent out by some good people
to warn us of the way we are all tending.
Shall We accept this awful admonition ?"
This speech was from citizen at the end
of the counter, who seemed slightly full
er than the rest of the company; in fact,
Just full enough to be as solemn as an
owl, and as sentimental as some wild.
eyed wooer of the muses..
"Rats Rats 60 soak your head y
came in q chorus from his audience, and
the grave person thought himself unap.
preciated.
The tramp had passed the crowd and
was entering the back room when he
stopped, turned back and walked up ia
them.
"Gentlemen, you mean to be kind to
me, in your way, no doubt" he said,
pushing up with trembling hand the
Topped brim of his soiled and torn old
hat. "You must know from my appear
ance that am not in the habit of refus
liquor; but this day must remain sober
as it is my mothers birthday. hope
you will not think it strange, now, thai
1, though a poor, shivering tramp, refus
ing what you in your generosity thought
would be most acceptable to me-" Ther
he went and held his unwashed hands
over the glowing Goals.
One of the crowd had compassion fol
his friendless brother in rags and gave
him place to sleep, out of the cold OF
that bitter night.
Long before the time for dawn vas
light illuminated that town and the cocks
crew as if for day. A dwelling was or
fire. A shouting, excited crowd soon
surrounded it. Thay we're more thar
willing to render every assistance in ex-
tinguishing the flames; but all saw tn
effort was useless-the building must b.
left to its fate. Listen Above the nois
of the roaring fire, above the cries of th'
agitated populace, a woman's shrek o
despair rang out:
"My child Oh, my child it will b
burned alive!"
Strong men turned pale, and womes
tainted. 1t was too true; in some unac
countable way an infant had been lef
10 che family sleeping room on the sec
ond floor. The house had been aban
doned it was wrapped in flames. Non
dare enter it now, for already fierce
blaze was leaping up the stairway. Ou
from the rear of the crowd ran shagg.
form and cried in clear, steady voice
"In which room is the child?"
"The Northeast p shouted somebody
In an instant the man darted into tn
omen door of the doomed dwelling.
"He's too late |"
"They'll both be burned !"
"God bless him whoever he is"
These and similar CALCULATIONS went ul
from the spectators. Then all is still
ness, save the roaring wind, aud the hiss
ing and swapping of the mercileas fire
The slow dragging seconds are hours
the intensity of the suspense is painful
But it is over now. The shaggy foru
bounds from the blazing threshold, besr
ing a precious burden which is laid un
scathed in it's mothers arms. A hun
dred hands rush, ready to extinguish tn
burning rags of the hero-the tramp Q
last nights acquaintance. Skillful sur
geons and tender nurses strive to restor
the poor fellow to consciousness for b.
had fallen, like shot beef, in the street
All effort is vain. The sun rises wit
unruffled serenity, as if nothing had hap
pened, and on it's first beams the spirit
the outcast fits away forever.
In the cemetery of that town there is
marble shaft, on which are cut thes'
words:
GAN UNKNOWN HERO"
Since that night of which have writ
ten, quarter of q century has been add
J ed to the roll of years. Often on pleas
ant afternoons, so people thereabout
say, couple, in all the vigor and beaut.
of youth, may be seen placing flowers OF
q we'll kept grave, and chubby boy be-