The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-02-18

/ would hesitate about accepting my invi-
tatious, and would regret their agents
had not been prompt with remittances,
and things Of that sort; but it never
bothered me. As long as had it, why
should not advance it, was sure to get
it back when / wanted it.
| THEY HELD BIN Up.
"Oue day got note from the elocu-
zionist. He must start at once for New
T York to save friend whose fortune was
periled in trade speculation; and would
[ advance him $500, and inclOsed was his
note for the amount and an order on his
agent to secure il, and ! could find his
agent in the Anthropological Building,
and would destroy the note when l re-
ceived the money.
Il sent him the cash. knew better at
the time, but one gets numb in a way,
don't you know it, l had come TO the
place where | did not care to reflect. OF
course it was all very easy working me,
as you Americans call il.
Then another time thu barytone
wanted S400 until the first of ne month.
And he got it, And the following day he
met me, radiant with glee, and said his
remittance had come an hour after he had
eashed my check, and would l accept
place with a little party at the restaurant
that night, and afterward to the theaterl
l did, and it was about the handsomest
entertainment l had enjoyed, and the
barytone paid the bill. He said he would
hand my cash in the morning, or | could
have it then If needed it. did not need
| it, and told him the morning would do. 1
never saw him again till one day when
| had 10 get out of the way of his carriage
while sweeping refuse on jackson boule-
ward.
But the heaviest blow came when a
thief broke into my room one night while
l was at the theater and stole everything
! of value had left there.
THAT fright tened me- and wrote home
after few days, asking for money. The
| steward got the letter, and he wrote
! very chilly reply. He said that this was
| the third appeal they had had from me,
and were no less transparent than the
others. He called me shameless i'm
| poster, and told me the real Hon George
| Balesford was in New South Wales be-
| having himself as the sou of his father
! should behave-not shamelessly appeal
| ing TO gentlemen for money. l saw then
| that the barytone and the declaimef had
| been abusing me in more ways than one.
| l wrote my friend in Sidney to clear up
| the matter with my family so | could get
| some money. Then l tried to get the
bank to advance me a few hundred, but
they would not. / could not find any of
the men / had assisted. They
seemed suddenly to have vanished.
On the street one day l met one
of the ladies who had accompanied US ON
| some Of our jaunts-a handsome and
wealthy young woman-and she read my
condition instantly. She took me into the
parlor of great hotel and tried TO make
me tell her the whole story. Then she
offered to lend me what needed-tried to
| press 81 900 upon me. Think of that. OF
course | could not accept it. But she
would have me eat dinner with her.
had Just S. left, and the dinner-a modest
one-came to $500. / insisted on paving
| for it, lying TO her about my affairs and
| leaving her as gayly as if any clothes had
not already published my reversed for
| tunes.
GOING INTO THE DEBPs.
"At the hotel they wanted their money
had not paid when l could. Now when
| l could not they would listen to no ex-
cuses. l gave up my fine apartments
no 1t was not in this hotel-and took a
single room on a dark hall But they
would only let me stay there tor week.
l sold some clothes and some tewelry and
some lxnickknacks that had little value to
anyone but myself-and then | was put
out of the hotel. That was bitter night
| indeed.
At this point the nobleman paused for a
moment, looking straight before him with
| eyes that took no account Of things real
or present and only saw a desolate, dis
| graced young wanderer, homeless in a
city of riches.
IL rented furnished room, but after a
week could not pay for the fires, so they
! left me cold all day and all night Then
l sold everything excepting the garments
| l needed for present wearing and tele-
graphed my friend in Sydney to hasten
his communication with my friends, tell
| ing him nv desperate condition.
| "Of course, by this time the fair was
| long past, and the winter was here. 1t
was too cold to stay in the room. so |
wandered about from Office buildings to
retail stores, keeping warm, but often
very hungry. At the best, l could only
afford the lunches provided in these
| bakery lupchrooms, and it was not a de-
sirable way to live, l assure you.
FINALLY tried to find some work to do.
| Three or four times | got a situation with
very small wages, something like a pound
week, or near that. But | could not
hold them. Men who had been rich and
successful managers of big investments
would take my places from me. 1t was
all right. Under ordinary clroum stances
they were worth $4,000 a year Now
! they were willing to work for their board
| and lodging, while was never trained to
labor aud have no doubt | was quite in
competent.
| There came a time when | had no
room, no money, and was very hungry.
/ went around to all the places where by
any possibility a remittance from home
would have reached me, but none had
ever come. Even the friends to whom
had appealed in London-young men
from college had refused me, because so
many of my summer friends had adj
dressed them before me, and they had
had warning that | was not in Chicago
but in New South Wales. l was in a
very desperate condition.
Coming from the Office Of my former
hotel that day, empty-handed and scorned
by the clerk who had been all smiles and
courtesy when did not need his favor, ]
passed a great mirror and saw my figure
neglected. was shabby to the last de-
gree; unshaven, with hair untrimmed
and clothing wrinkled-it was terrible.
Right at the door the manager accosted
me. He told me / need not come there
any more. He had learned how bold a
game of pretender l had played all sum
mer, and he was going to give the story
that night TO reporter. He said it would
make a tirst-class sensation. | told him
if line appeared rejecting on my honor
] should certainly kill him. That was all
] said. But / was in earnest, and | think
he believed me. But he did not soften in
his attitude toward me.
HUNGRY IN SIGHT or PLENTY.
''That day walked past cafe on Con