Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1896-06-18
A MODERN LAZARUS.

1t was a hot, breathless August day in
New York. The hour was high E0on. Yet,
beneath that vertical sun, blind beggar
sat asking aims by the wayside.
His worn dress, though scrupulously
| clean, betrayed the utmost poverty. Has
hand shook with palsy - he held forth his
battered straw hnt for aims. On his barred
head, bald ca top, but with a few thin,
gray hairs around tho edges, tho vertical
sun poured down its fierce heat pitilessly.
Poor old mani
Suddenly splendid equipage drew up
to the sidewalk and q portly, pompous
man descended. Could the mendicant
have seen that face he would scarcely
have ventured to solicit aims, and now,
when he did, his extended hat was rudoly
rebutfed
Get out of the way, get out of the way!
Where the police, l wonder?'' cried the
millionaire in n quick, testy voice, rude
" pushing the old mendicant aside.
An officer, who happened to be within
hearing, stepped Immediately up and WAS
obsequiou sness itself. He shook the beg
gar roughly.
Come, be movingr' no said And OBJ.
serving that the old man hesitated but
whether from weakness or to arouse pity
he did not stop to inquire, he gave him
push, adding "Off with you at once!'
The aged mendcant resisted no longer
Feeling his way with his stick, he arose
and was soon lost to sight in tho hurrying
crowds which even on that summer day
poured CcasGiess!y along the streets.
But rs he went, though his tongue was
silent, his heart was not. He thought Of
his early life when in distant land he
had boon prosperous and happy; his hearth
shared by "a sympathzing wife, his board
surrounded by lovely children.
Then he recalled the misfortunes which
had driven him in his old age into exile
the fever ship where his remaining grand
children had died. and the first day of ut
ter beggary, q type of many day since
he had landed on a foreign shore. As
these things rose before him, he groaned
How long, o Lord, how long,"
.Jostled and often almost overthrown,
the mcndicant had nevertheless succeeded
at last in advancing several squares. He
had now reached point where it became
necessary to cross Broadway. For some
time En hesitated, the ceaseess roll of w.
hieies disheartening him, but finally there
was u lull, during which he thought he
might venture.
lie had achieved about half the distance
when q pair # proud high stepping horses
approached at a rapid rate. The liyeried
coachman, perceivlng the beggar, drew par
TALLY in. But his imperious master, al
ways impatient of delay, at this angrily
spoke up
Drive on, drive on" he cried sharply.
"WAat business has the old rascal 10 be Ia
the way: HN'u jump quick enough when
be hears you on top Of him.
He did jump quick enough, too, but it
was the wrong way, Catching the sound
of the horses hoofs, he had turned his
slghtless eyes toward them, and then, for
the first time, the eoaChman saw that he
was blind. To pull up again was the work
| Of moment, even though tho servant
knew be was disobeying orders. But it
was too late The mendicant, losing his
presence Of mind, had sprung the wrong
way-had fallen under the horses feet and
was run bodily over before tho impetus Of
the carriage could be stopped.
He was not killed instantly. He had a
rec collection Of being picked up, of hearing
crowd around him and of recognizing
tho voice of the rich man whom he had
vainly impiorcd for aims an hour before
"Humph - that voice had said. He seems
done for. \ doctor would do no good
Some Of you carry him to the hospital and
SAY that Alderman Brown sent him ihcre. "
Taen the sound of carriage wheels roll
Ing off and Of those proud horses mixed
with the murmured voices Of the crowd
until all became "A vague dream, When
tho mendicant was lifted on rude ten.
porary litter, he was seen to be totally in
sensible When his bearers stopped at the
hospital, he was discovered to be dead
The next day WAS Sunday. The rich
man, the pompous official, had quite forgot
ten the incident Of the preceding morning
At 10 O'Clock his sumptuous cquipnee
WAS at the door for he respected the de
cencies of society and went duly to church,
his richly cushioned pew being in fash
ionable up town Gothic editlce. And
while no lolled back In his corner calculat-
ing the chances of u rise in stocks or spec
ulating on the complexion Of political par
ties his liveried servant waited outside
with his coach and horses that all might
know how exemplary Christian Alder
man Brown was
Principally at five minutes past 10 the
rich man entered his carriage, which i'm
Inediately moved off, the horses stepping
stately, but with SO restraint, as became
the day.
Presently a plain hearse, containing a
coffin OF the oommonest description and
without solitary follower crossed from
bystreet, and the coachman was compelled
for moment to draw in that 1t might
pass. 1t was the poorhouse hearse. Need
we say who was in that coffin? And thus
for the third and last time the millionaire
and mendicant met.
Tho Dives of the parable was not the
last of his kind. Many a Lazarus still lies
at rich mems gates, denied even the
crumbs they seek and with only dogs to
lick their sores. Exchange.
Artificial Memory.
An old Welsh blacksmith, who was also