The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1894-11-14

"Want to find friend, my trap
mouthed coal scuttle?" said gentle
man in the mercantile service. Moth
ing easier. Wait at the Nyanza docks
till he comes. Every one comes to the
Nyanza docks. Wait, you poor heath
en-. " The gentleman spoke the truth.
There are three great doors in the world
whereat, if you stand long enough, you
shall meet any one you wish. The head
of the Suez canal is one, but there death
comes also. Charing Cross station is
the second-for inland work-and the
Naynza docks are the third. At each OF
these places are men and women look
ing eternally for those who will surely
come. So Pambe waited at the docks
Time was no object to him, and the
wives could wait, as he did from day to
day, week to week, month to month,
by the Blue Diamond tunnels, the Red
Dot smokestacks, the Yellow Streaks
and the nameless dingy gypsies of the
sea that loaded and unloaded, jostled,
whistled and reared i'll the everlasting
fog. When money failed, kind gentle
man told Pambe to become Christian,
and Pambe became one with great speed,
| getting his religious teachings between
ship and ships arrival and 9 or 2 shil
| lings week for distributing tracts to
mariners. What the faith was Pambe
did not in the least care, but he knew
if he said, Native Kills ti-an. sar,
to men with long black coats he might
get few coppers, and the tracts were
vendible at little public house that
sold shag by the "dottel, which is
even smaller weight than the half
screw which is less than the half
ounce and a most profitable retail trade.
But after eight months Pambe fell
sick with pneumonia, contracted from
long standing still In slush, and much
against his will he was forced to lie
down in his two and sixpenny room,
raging against fate.
The kind gentleman sat by his bed
side and grieved to find that Pambe
talked in strange tongues, instead of
listening to good books, and almost
seemed to become benighted heather
again, till one day he was reused from
semistupor by voice in the street by
the dockhead. My friend-he," whis-
pored Pambe. ''Call now-call Nurkeed.
Quick God has sent himW HE want
ed one of his own race, said the kind
gentleman, and going out he called
'Nurkeedl" at the top of his voice,
and an excessively colored man In q
rasping white shirt and brand new Stops,
shining hat and breastpin turned
round. Many voyages had taught Muir
keed how to spend his money and made
him citizen of tho world.
"Hi Yesl' said he when the situa-
ton was explained. Command him
black nigger-when was on the Saar-
bruck. Ole Pambe. Good old Pambe.
Dam lasoar. Show him up, sar, !" and
told the stolSer what the kind gentleman
had overlooked. Pambe was desperately
poor. Nurkeed drove his hands deep into
his pockets, then advanced with clinch-
ed fists on the sick, shouting: "Hya,
Pambol Hyal Hee, ahl Hullal He'll
/ Takilni Takilni- Mako fast aft, parnhat
| You know Pambe. You know me. Dek
no, joel Look Dam big fat lazy las
car
Pambe beckoned with his left hand.
His right was under his pillow. Muir
keed removed his gorgeous hat and
stopped over Pambe till he could catch
a faint whisper. "How beautiful" said
the kind gentleman. "How these orien-
tails love like childreni'
"Spit him out, E" said Nurkeed, lean
ing over Pambo yet more closely.
Touching the matter of that fish and
onions" said Pambe-and sent the
knife home under the edge of the rib
bone, upward and forward.
There was u thick, sick cough, and
the body Of the African slid slowly from
the bed, his clutching hands letting fall
shower of silver pieces, which ran
across the room.
"Now can diel" said Pambe.
But he did not die. He was nursed
back to life with all the skill which
money could buy, for the law wanted
him, and in the end he grew sufficient
ly convalescent to be hanged in due and
proper form.
Pambe did not care particularly, but
it was sad blow to the kind Christian
gentleman. st. James Gazette