New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1897-12-19

lieves she has not her match in this world. lie
is not only submissive he is in love Yes. teli
ye. as much in love, in spite of his gray iia'i'
as boy of twenty. and he works and grlnds
himself to the bone He is good as Goo1
cake. AT the ea.in'-house where he p!ays-anu
ne Is clever. ye know. they have played music
written by him. dance tunes at the music halls
at the Star the cooks are good tured to MN:
and by leave of the master they keep some Oh
the scraps for him
THAT was what he brought home to-day. as
he does every afternoon to the little ones. in the
black serge handkerchief ! am glad meseif
every now and then to give him something for
the children. a dish of whitehall. perhaps. when
| have some over and to spare. And he Is so
thankful. and the seven little mouths eat 1t up
with such appetite! Mrs. Ponderbury? /
don't say but what she mayn't be so bad as she
seems. and for him. Mr.. Pondcrbury he is
even better than nc seems Only he grows thin
ner and stoopS more and has cough. what
VIII become OF them when he Is no longer mere
To play the flute and feed them ALL"
| went again 10 the Star Restaurant. and in
the bright turmoil OF the hall blazing with lights
amid the hustle of the diners and the white tiled
walters. while the orchestra on the platform
played and played again Spanish "Habaneras'
and Hungarian waltzes | saw him in the same
seat. STOPPING, threadbare shabby, casting down
on the dishes on the counter. brought from the
kitchen under their silver covers by the lift and
delivered into the hands of the walters. the same
famished and gloomily feverish look that had
first struck me. / saw him again, poor Mr.. Pom
derbury. blowing into his flute. his lips pinched
over the holes in the black pipe. nodding his
head and beating the time with the tip OF his
worn shoes. while he looked the Instrument
al all the eatahes that passed before his eyes.
contemplating the food that would have glad
dencd the heart Of those seven little girls. petri-
fled by the stern glance OF Mrs Ponderbury.
And could see the dismal house beyond Snow
Hill. the brick front. the dark narrow passage.
the vacant windows and the tall hard shrill
voiced mother.
Mr. Ponderbury played He played Mar
tina" he played "Espaha." he played Fahrbach
and Strauss. The champagne corks popped un-
der the glare Of the electric light The
pany laughed and talked. the cheerful hum OF
satisfied hunger rose up in the huge hall with
its gaudy luxury like that OF great liner"
could hear nothing. even In the giddy rhythm
OF the dance music, but the pantive flute of the
poor musician who would presently carry away
the crumbs of the feast, the leavings of this
luxury the fragments OF these meals strewn
and the wall of the instrument which pipcd on
so sadly seemed TO me the perpetual sob OF
Lazarus looking on at the rich mans banquet.
Not that he was rebelliOuS. poor Mr.. Ponder
bury But a Lazarus as punCtuai and mild
a respectful servant should be. Mild in the pres
ence OF Fate as In that If Mrs Ponderbury. or.
OF his days hard toll. Of his fathcrhOod
weighted with tasks. but full Of joys! Mild
der all the burdens of life always mild and
humble. and silent. and sad
made a note OF his number IN the street
he lives in. where he labors. and stoops. and
grows leaner every day; and when the stout.
purple faced Irishwoman now and again gets
postal order to pay for whitehall for The seven
little Ponderburys. l hope she never tells the
little bald man that a stranger from the outside
world interferes-as Mrs. Pondcrbury would
tartly remark-in what IL no business II his.
Jules Claretie. in Figaro lllus,rt.