The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1901-03-15
THE TRAMP AND THE BOY.

It was New Years morning. The gray
| iig-.e filtered dimly through the windows
/ OF George BicknelPs study. George
! Bicknell himself stood oy ais desk looking
down at the travesty of a man who SAT
| back jauntiIy in the easy chair before
and stern. The face Of the other man
was distorted by a leer.
| Yes, brother George" the visitor said
! in a husky voice, I've come to pay you
| my semi-occasionaI fraternal call. Same
| Old welcome, 1 notice, and yet you
| haven't seen me before in three years.
| Same old cordial greeting for the prodi-
| gal. But 1 don't blame you, my dear boy.
/ m the same old family disgrace. Same
! old rags; same old appetite
How much do you want?" asked
| George BickneI.
Rather coarse, rather coarser' chuck
led the prodigaI. still, it's your money.
me. In q poor custodian for family
! funds Every penny viii go in riotous
| living"
Man, man. cried George, will moth
ing move you-nothing arouse you 10 a
sense of your degradation
m afraid not, George" laughed the
prodigaL I've lived too long with the
swine to be open to sentimental twinges.
George BickneIl shuddered as he opened
his pocketbook and drew out several
bills, the shifty eyes OF the visitor greed
lily following his movements.
And then came an interruption.
The inner door was gently pushed open
and the curly head of a small boy ap-
peared in the opening.
Can I come in, Papa George?" inquired
childish voice.
mo, no. he cried. s.You can't come in.
I'm too busy. Run away
Let him come in, George" said the
prodigal. Il want to make his acquaint-
anee. The bloated face had lost its
smile. The tone was no longer a chuck
ling one. Come in, little fellow"
The door was pushed a little farther.
Can I. papa?"
Yes said George Bicknel.
The lad stepped into the room. He
was handsome boy of s years. straight
and well developed.
Mamma has gone over TO Aunt Lu-
cy's." he said, as he turned to his
father, an she won't be back for an
hour. 1t was kind o. lonesome, an it
being holiday 1 thought I'd come to
you, papa. You know were always to-
gether a good deal on holidays" The
boy turned as he spoke the last words
and caught the strangers eye. Il wish
you happy New Year, sir, ne gravely
said.
Thank you, son. said the visitor: "I
wish you many of the same sort. Come
here" The boy looked at his father and
then stepped to the stranger. DO I look.
son. Ike man who is threatened with
a happy New Year?'
The boy was a little puzzled. Then he
gravely shook his head.
If you don't mind, SIR he said, 81
think you look like a tramp"
The visitor iaughed-a hoarse, unmu-
steal laugh.
You're wise lad, SON." he said. I'm
a tramp, all right It's a noble profess
sion. The children Of Israel were tramps;
the Pilgrim Fathers were tramps.'
''Tramps know great deal, don't
they, sir?' said the boy. '"They see so
much" He paused and looked at the
tattered man with a dolefuI expression.
''Tramps are always poor, aren't they?'
he asked.
Poverty is as natural to them as rags.
and dirt, and hunger" replied the Wis
itor
"Then, If you don't mind again." said
the boy, I'D like to give you this nice,
shining quarter that L was going to
start my new savings bank with this
morning" And he put the bright coin
In the visitors palm.
Inc prodigal's grimy fingers closed up
on it.
IN take it as a loan, son." he said
and his voice seemed to George Bickneu
a triie more husky.
sfCOu7p Jamie