The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1896-12-02
Last of the Bohemians.

The real Bohemian is gone-I refer
to the besotted geniuses who used to
tramp from one newspaper office to an
other. getting sober on the march; elec-
trifying the readers of the next paper
they came to; falling from grace the
week after, and marching on again.
And it is true that in provincial cities,
the majority of the peocil pushers no
longer gather after the strain of the
day, aud sit the evening through
in the draught cool lager; over
turning the world and cursing the
evanescepce Of human hope aud
the rotteopess of established iosttu.
tions.
| was thinking the other night how
fast the tribe was thinning out; how
seldom the seedy garb and eye so &C.
nine appeared anonymously together
these times upon the door of the sauctum.
tum. But as my memory ran the last
few years, / recall few who had lost
neither the divine fire nor the taste for
alcohol
remember we'll, for instance, snail,
compact, swarthy man from the west,
with dark eye, luminous as pbos-
pborous. clear cut visage, with
straight nose aud square jaw. He
was the soberest man I ever saw. He
wanted work. and to prove that he
could write be handed the editor some
copy. He said he would sell it for any
old thing at all He needed food.
He must have money. He was given
two or three dollars. The story aftv.-
wards appeared uuder the title of
"How to Live on $3.50 Week. The
bumor and patbos of it swept the town.
and there were thousand smilessand a
thousand tears 10 Atlanta that evening
He was at once placed in the local staff,
where his labors showed not only the
skill of the trained newspaper man,
but the plain earmarks Of vigor and
originality At last the paper had got
the man for whom it had been looking.
He was clever. be was reliable, he vas
experienced. For four months, he
was the bright particular pride of the
shop. We wondered where he had
been, and why be came here Won
dered if the name he had given US was
not assumed We wondered a lot of
things, until one day.
He had been doing police work A
great murder story come to light. 1t
was one of those crimes which set the
Imagination upon the strange circum-
stances. No eye had seen, nor ear had
heard the smoke and shot which
wrought the cruel death. 1t was
crime Of darkest mystery. It was a
chance for brilliant work. Oar new
jewel was the man We would "beat"
all contemporaries that day. 1t was
our story. 1t came in our time. And
We had the man for the job.
The swartby man with the lustrous
eye and the square jaws was given the
assignment. We saw by his quiet de-
meanor and tue increased pallor Of bis
drawn face that there would be lot stuff
in the paper that afternoon. By 9
o'clock be was out at work. Eleven
o'clock came Twelve O'Clock came.
Then came the Bohemian. A red hot
stove was burning 10 the middle of the
room. The mao Of genious entered.
He had what l thought look of in
tense earnesteness. thought | had
seen the look on the faces Of men Of
genius before. He sat down and
thought But I'D not write He con-
tinued to think.
The telephone bell rang.
Want you at the telephone said
the devil.
The man of genius arose. He made
three distinctive efforts to get around the
stoves. He veered over against the
wall, and foally ran hard against the
telephone.
The chief of police wanted to see
him He stuck the wrong end of the ear
trumpet to bis ear. He couldn't hear.
The jag was out Of the bag. He kuew
it, ae exclaimed
"GeDtlemen I'm drunk y
He was sent home in hack. He
never came back. We had diatolical
time with the notes he had brought in,
and be came very near running US.
But, We knew why this nan Of ge-
MUS had come upon US so forlorn, had
worked for US so cheaply, had been SO
utterly silent. He was the last Of the
tribe of Bohemia have seen in Allan
ta.-Atlanta Journal
Lamp shades when artisticaliy made of