Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1894-07-19
[Copyrieht, 1894, by tho Author.

l nave limited to you that | believed
if ever the Old Beau told me his own
story it would be the story of stories.
There was something about the man,
through all my acquaintance with him,
which had impressed me with the feel
ing that his whole life had been one
long tragedy Yet, there was no
more genial, mpanionable man in all
the club. lie was replete with anec-
dote, with gentle hunnor, with the
quality that is known as 1.-THE milk of
human kindness" us you may have
gathered from some of these tales that
have told you. Yet, there was n GER
tain grave under-current in the man
that had often caused me to wonder at
its reason. While desired his story,
with all the keen avidity that ncws-
paper man Is capable of, | had firmly
made up my mind that would never
suggest this desire to him-for was
confident the tale would come Of his
own accord some day. And it did.
In the lighted street in front of the
club, was approached one night by a
miserable vagrant who asked me for
aims Not from charity, but because
in my pocket and gave him IA coin. As
! handed it to him, the Old Beau came
down the steps. He paused as though
turned to stone when he saw the beg
par, and grew all white, like one who
is suddenly struck with death. And
the beggar, seeing him, stayed the
hand that had been stretched forth for
the coin, and leered at him and called
him jeeringly by name. stood look
ing from one to the other, knowing
that ! was witnessing the eliminating
scene Of great drama, yet powerless
to comprehend its meaning. After
pause that was, doubtless, not more
than a moment, but that had spun out
infinitely in my imagination, my
friend came down the steps slowly,
and placed his hand on my shoulder
Lis voice was quiet, but vibrated with
strange, deep trcmor as he spoke to
me.
"Do me this favor" he said; "go
with this man, find him shelter and
food, and whatever else he may need
DO for him all that he asks, for ! owe
him great debt. l will wait for you
here"
lie turned, and went slowly up the
steps again, while | gave my attention
to the fellow before me. | do not need
to tell you much of him. He seemed
the worst of his class, Dressed in
rags, filthy and palsied with drink, he
was loathsome in the extreme. lie
mumbled now, in maudlin way, and
staggered from sheer weakness.
soon saw that his mind was half gone,
and that he was i'll and miserable.
Want had done almost its worst upon
him. He easily submitted to being led,
and | took him, first, to place where
he was bathed, and cleanly dressed,
and fed. Then, | saw more clearly
how little strength was in him, and SO
we went forthwith to u hospital, and
procured a bed for him there. After
the physician had examined him, he
told me that the spark of life hung
only by thread. 1t might be a mat
ter of few hours; at the most, but
few days, before the end would come.
1t was far past midnight when l left
him, and returned to the club.
The Old Beau was alone in an upper
room. A dim light burned on the ta-
BILE, a low fire in the CRATE. The usual
accessories, tobacco and liquors, were
notable for their absence.
He looked up when | entered, and |
saw that he was still very white. |
thought could detect the signs of