The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1897-01-29
RAMBLING ROBIN"
BY JAMES DAVENPORT.

People called him Rambling Robin
You could have seen him almost any
day walking along with his head hang
Ing down, and his eyes fixed on the
ground. Nobody spoke to him, nor die
he speak TO anybody. His clothes
we're in rags. He wore no collar. Some
times a red scarf was fastened rount
and chest were bare to the cutting
winds. Nobody knew where he came
from, and nobody cared.
Some said he had been an actor al
one time-others that he had been q
doctor, whilst many maintained that
be was man who had gambled away q
large fortune. Whatever he might
have been, we could all see that he was
no common vagrant.
! do not know whether the peace and
good will which are supposed to come to
Ill men at Christmas-time had anything
70 do with ii, but when passed him
one Christmas Eve a few years ago. as
was hurrying off home, a sudden i'm.
pulse led me to stop.
will you come home with me and
have your supper, Robin?" said.
He stopped and lifted up his head.
Poor fellow noticed the tears spring
10 his eyes. Kind words were strangers
TO him.
"My-my support" he gasped. II
Rever have any supper"
/ quite believed him. In fact, if he
aad said he never had anything to eat at
any time, should not have contradicted
him.
"But make an exception tonight"
arged. "Christmas-time, you know.
People break the ordinary routine of
their lives at Christmas, Come along"
He made no answer; at least, not
with words, lflt his eyes spoke plainly
enough. and, quickening his pace, we
ttrode along together towards my
home.
At last we reached the house, and my
wife opened the door. My little Mabel
same toddling TO meet me, and as
lifted her up and carried her back on
my shoulder, told my wife had
brought friend home for supper.
Robin and l sat talking together
whilst Annie was getting the meal
ready. His face had frightened, and
bis brilliant conversation confirmed the
!, opinion i had formed of him, that he
vas a man of culture.
Mabel climbed down from my knee,
and went across to Robin.
''Hsve 90 no little drip" she lisped.
He stroked her hair gently, and
shook his head.
"And no mamma?" she asked, look
ing first at me, and then at the smil-
ing face of my wife.
Robin turned his face away. Trust
child for finding the way to mans
heart.
mo, no mamma" he replied, after a
pause.
Mabel sighed, and came across to me,
els zee poor man?' she asked.
The Intervention of my wife with the
information that supper was ready
saved me from replying.
The meal over, my wife rose to take
Mabel to bed, but before she left the
room the little girl ran back. and climb
Ing on Robins knee, kissed him "Dood
night" Then Robin and pulled our
chairs to the fire. His eyes were shin
Ing. He seemed different man.
handed him a cigar, and we sat smok'
ing for awhile without speaking.
"Would you like to hear the history
Of Rambling Robin?'" he asked, bend
ing forward. IF you would, will tell
you the first part. The second part
Dnly begins tonight. You shall
hear that in year or two"
did not quite understand him, but
nodded and waited for him to start.
1.-TWO lines" be began, Frequently
Dccur to me. You remember them:
who falls from all he knows OF bliss.
Cares little into what abyss
they are the truest lines ever writ.
len," he said. and he stared into the
ere for time without speaking.
"Listen, and ! will tell you how
tell. Five years ago ! was young
man. Do | look young now?" and be
pointed to his sunken cheeks and gray
streaked hair. "And yet tiveyears have
made the difference.
my name is Robin Alerne. was
bee.e with my father in Scotland, and
afALv yyhere met my Flora. can see
sfen. as she was the day first met
Nh was q glorious day in June
s.jie M uttered out with my rod in the
Err no. and was whipping the stream
silva an along the outskirts OF the
s,aoryben the sound of sweet music
RtSAd my ear. ] turned round. and
q wToman She had not seen me
sssseor she came along she sang in I
hen The as sweet and pure as was thu
r singer:
j. Her face is fair. her heart Is true.
IN. As spotless as she's bonnie, OF
- The opening gowan. wet wi dew.
~ Nae purer is than Mamie, or
"She was singing her sun-bonnet II
her hand. and the sun was playing witt
her golden hair. Her neck was bare
its whiteness contrasting with her bon
ME, sunburnt face.
~When she saw me she stopped anC
blushed. Then she threw on her bon
nek and walked on hurriedly.