Goldsboro weekly argus. [volume] (Goldsboro, N.C.) 1885-1909, 1894-08-30
rCopyr1gnt, 1894, by the Author.l

lCOpyTlSnI, 1861, ny Inc AutAoE-I
Ihave limited to you that l 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, companionable man in all
the club. He was replete with anec-
dote, with gentle humor, with the
quality that is known as 1.-The milk OF
human Kindness" as you may have
fgathered from some of these tales that
I have told you. Yet, there was a GER
tain grave un~der-current in the man
that had often caused me to wonder at
its reason. While l desired his story,
with all the keen avidity that a news
paper man is capable of, l a firmly
made up my mind hat / would never
suggest this desire to him-for I was
confident the tale would come of his
own accord some day. And 1t did.
In the lighted street in front of the
club, I was approached one night by a
miserable vagrant who asked me for
aims Not from charity, but because
1t was the easiest way, l put my hand
in my pocket and gave him a coin. AS
I handed it to him, the Old Beau came
down the steps. He paused as though
| turned to stone when he saw the beg
| gar, and grew all white, like one who
is suddenly struck with death. And
the beggar, seeing him, stayed the
| hand that mad 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 l was witnessing the eliminating
scene of a great drama, yet powerless
| to comprehend It's meaning. After a
pause that was, doubtless, not
| 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.
| His voice was quiet, but vibrated with
q strange, deep tremor as he spoke to
me:
| O'Do me this favor" he said; "go
| with this man, find him shelter inc
| food, and whatever else he may need.
| Do for him oil that he asks, for / owe
| him a great debt. will wait for you
here"
He turned, and went slowly up the
steps again, while l gave my attention
to the fellow before me. l do not need
to tell you much of hirn. He seemed
the worst of his class. Dressed in
rags, filthy and palsied with drink, he
was loathsome In the extreme. He
mumbled now, in a maudlin way, and
staggered from sheer weakness. !
soon saw hat his mind was half gone,
and that he was Ill and miserable.
Want had done almost its worst upon
him. He easily submitted to being led,
and I took him. first, to a place where
he wa bathed. and clearly dressed,
and fed. Then. / saw more clearly
how little strength was in him, and SO
we went forthwith to O hospital, and
procured a bed for him there. After
the physician had examined him, he
told me that IL spark Of life hung
only by a thread. 1t might be a mat
ter of a few hours; at the most. but a
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 Ia
BILE, a low fire in the CRATE. The usual
accessories, tobacco and liquors, were
notable for their absence.
He looked up when I entered, and
saw that he was still very white.
thought 1 could detect the signs of q