The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1901-04-05
do You
Speak FrenCh?''
A Tale of a New York CITY
Reporter.
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A midwinter night and bitter, bitter
cold: not so much snow. but a wind
which had an arctic anger in it; it stune
the face like vitriol and froze the blood
and almost made fellow cry out, as if
be were in pain.
Three of us, just common newspaper
reporters, were scurrying through Mail
street, half running, to get to warm
place We had been at work up town,
irving to find certain facts about a man
who had been mysteriously murdered in
the Tendcrloin precinct-Johnny Spell
man, the jockey.
Well, the City Hall park was bleak
enough. The wind shrickcd across it.
and the hall, with its old white marble
steps, stood over yonder, pallid, CHASTITY.
Not human being in sight; nobody
would stay out of doors such a night.
The lights in the tall buildings in Park
row and in the low entrance to Hitch.
cocks ever blessed old cellar coffee house
were happy, CHEEKY bcacons.
1t was late we'll on toward midnight.
That made us hurry all the more.
Even Uncle Sans tagged out old horses
and wagons which forever wait in the
Mail street alley behind that grim stone
coping, where big bags of mail matter for
all parts of the world are bundled in and
out, had disappeared out of the cold.
There was no sound of the mail clerks
voice calling off the bags
We reached the middle of the Mail
street block. We were on the north side
of the street | ran in the rear of the
procession.
Out of the shadows of the park came a
man. In voice which upon that night
wind was the most piteous sound | ever
heard he cried, stretching out one hand in
suppIiant way:
IarlcZ-yous Francois, monsieur?" do
you speak French, sir0
Ii was a strange. courteous question to
come wailing amid the bowling of a
storm. | turned and stopped and then
in honest amazement and pity said. My
God, yes" | had learned some French
in boyhood, then had bought drinks for Il
Paris houlevardier and fulfilled the du.
biouS linguistic requirements of a New
Jersey college. | had a deep seated love
for the French people and deal of fond
ness for the French tongue.
There in that wretched night, when
heard that question, | saw the honest
peasants - simple, sturdy folk - toiling
aheIi in far Provence. | saw the Breton
fisher singing as he patched his nets on
the shore Of the dear old sea. | saw gay
Paris and the sweet valley of the Loire
And here, alone, thinly clad, was a son
of that France, stranger in great self
lSh city; i'll a great, strange and selfish
Inp n ,,.wI,t
to have shown his nose out Of doors.
He was just asking learned it in his
first lonely question just asking for
some to give him helping hand, a
syllable of direction.
Ihe two other reporters went pelting
along. | looked at the wanderer-a man
Of 40, maybe; old to begin life anew
lie was above medium height, a little
stopped in the shoulders, on account Of
the cold perhaps. He was oyercoatleSS
bare handed and carried a small parcel
under his arm. Over his head was drawn
tight knit cap, such as football players
wear
1t was woeful story he told me. stand
ing there in the open on that awful night
with he sparse flakes flying all about US
lie had come that day on the Bretagne
Inc passage had been very stormy A
fellow passenger, a Picard. who smellcd
terribly of garlic, had taken all his mon
ey His chest, containing his worldly
Possessions. he had left at Castle Garden
that was before the barge Office days.
lis wife and two chidren-oh. such pref
y chldren-were at home in Picardy.
4 lie was hungry and thirsty No one but
an honest man begging in the streets Of
Il NE" York would admit that he was
thirsty.
Common reporters are not habitually
4 wen 10 do. | had G5 cents. | gave it all
10 Aim told him about the rich posi-
oLIIll'S Of beef and beans. Then direct
gu MN to 10 cent lodging house. Then,
Il pei'iIAeSs, | hurried on after my compan-
IONS. | expected to walk all the way
10 Wenty-hrst street. But, then, | had
foNcd in the Fights in the fan and
"gshed 1S2 and was equal to it.
0od bless you" in French sounds well
upon fierce night wind
n loid the fellows when | overlook them
laat 1t was q relief to find an honest beg
saE. onc of them, who knows McGlory
uNA at Flynn and o. b. and has been
among the oyster pirates of Maryland
uul lne Shanghaiers of Greenwich street
qua Qcatan, curled his smooth, churchly
Tp9A'ag lips and shifted at my story that
Aod gone broke" on beggar.
Il
Spring came. The trees in City Hail
a po'A We're budding. Tramps had come
70 { under the electric LIGHTS in the cir
MClj lt"n until the eggs are ulln. .
Il York Sun.