The Dawson news. (Dawson, Ga.) 1889-current, 1896-07-08
BROKE, BUT a SONG SAVED HIM.

From the Cincinnati Enquirer.
GAS an illustration of the sentiment
awakened by the old songs that belong
to the southland said a Virginian in
the corridor of the Grand hotel the
other day, II want to relate the story
of an incident that came under my OBJ
servation while l was IN London eight
or nine years ago.
II was stranger and the prospect
was not pleasant one, but happened
to see the name of a man from my own
state on the hotel register, and, al
though l did not know him, determln-
ed to send my card to his rool1. Then
happy thought struck me and [ hunt
ed up all the southerners who were
stopping at the house, and, running a
sprig of mint through a number of
cards, sent the hall boy to deliver them
A half hour later eight men, two from
Virginia, four from Kentucky. one
from Georgia and two from Louisiana,
lined up before the bar, and-well, the
friendship thus formed lasted through
the week. A few evenings before my
steamer was to sail the party was aug
mented by five more from the new
world, who were gathered around a
table in comfortable cafe partaking
of farewell supper.
sin the midst of the noise and laugh
ter no one noticed All aged negro who
entered and stole quietly to one corner
of the room. Placing his hat on the
floor he swung his guitar into position
and attracted our attention by striking
few preliminary chords ana then in a
sweet melodious baritone he began to
sing ELLA Rea." Glasses were placed
quietly on the table, the noise and laugh
ter ceased, and we were all thinking alike
-oflhOme.
know [ was, for there was a lump in
my throat as big as ham.
The musician followed with "Belinda
May"
"Lovely Belinda, Belinda. Belinda,
My sweet Belinda Nay;
l could work in the fields
And be happy all the day
If you would only smile on me,
My sweet Belinda May
And then the guitar spoke softly for
moment, and l fancied the old fellows
voice quiYered with emotion as the sweet
strains of 'The Old Kentucky Home''
flooded the room with a mist of tender
memories.
The hat was filled in moment, paper
money, silver and gold pieces were
fairly rained into it, the recipient, look
ing on in amazement, at last he broke
out with:
"Bress God, gen'rmep. You all must
come from home. Yes, sab, gen'rmen.
l knows you do, cayse dey don do
no sech things as dis yeah in dis coun.
try"
'Where do you come from, uncleq'
asked some one, 'and how do you hap
pen to be way out here?"
"Lemme tell you, gen'rmen. l come
from Georgia, an was BON in Atlanta.
You see l kin sing tol'abe well, an
one day yankee gen'l'mau cum down
our way, an he say as how he wants to
gets some cullud folks to trabble in
Europe, in sort O. minstrel company.
Wull, sahs, he done tell we all how much
money we gwine ter get, so me and some
of de young folks go long wild him. He
takes us to England fust, but de bizness
amt no good nohow, so he try Paris. |
an at las we go to Germany Things
kepter gittin' wuss, an so one MON n
we wake up an fin we all amt got no
manager az no money nuther.
Most OBJ de young bucks dey gifts a |
chance TO do waitin' an sech, but de OF |
man JUS been workin' his way 'roun' |
de kentry singin' songs dat nobody seems
to wanter heah nohoN.
"Soon as 1 see you gen'l'men turn
'roun' an listen dis evenin' knowed right
erway you all must cum from home, an |
| wonter thank you, nrmen, deed |
does. Gracious! ain seen so much |
money fn my life befo. Gen'l'men do |
yo 'ow dars huff money dere to git de
ole man back home?''
Well there is not much more to tell. |
only the following Saturday saw the old |
fellow on one of the big steamers with |
his passage paid to America and enough |
money to carry him back safely to his
home in Georgia.
When We consider that the intestines