Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1902-10-09

Q
Jones?
1t may seem curious that no one ever
became sufficiently interested IN Bones
to draw him out or that Some day
when he longed for human sympathy
he did not volunteer his story; but, as
a matter of fact, he was only one of
hundreds of yagabonds slouching along
the streets of London. Why should
any one OF higher station care who he
was or whence he came? And il he
had related his history it might have
been that of scores of others and would
have brought neither sympathy nor
sixpence.
Bones was inoffensive. He was also
passably honest, and when kicked out
of the way he took it as matter of
course. He was content with the shah
best raiment and had not too hearty
an appetite, so it came about that
he was allowed to hang about the mar
ket without complaint. His lodgings
were in vacant buildings, coalyards or
doorways. and the only time he got full
meals and decent bed was when the
police pulled him in and he was sent
to the work
He had put in ten years in London,
and there was no appreciable change in
him. He was gray haired, stoop shoul-
dered. ragged and red nosed, but he
had been that on his arrival. Nor had
there been any change in his plans.
He had come to London to live out the
remainder of his days, and he was do
ing it. If it ever occurred to him that
some day he must land in the aims
house, die and be buried as a pauper,
he said nothing about it and was not
worried.
One day Bones was slouching along
David street. He was not begging or
sightseeing or looking after coal to
be put in. He was simply vagabondiz-
ing and letting his feet take his body
where they would. If 4 policeman had
made an arrest, Bones would have had
no curiosity. If the fire engines had
come rattling up, he would not have
halted and become a spectator. He had
witnessed dogfghts, street rows, fires
and arrests so often that they no lon
ger held any interest.
One who saw him dragging along
with his eyes on the ground would have
said that nothing but kick from a
truck horse could have aroused him,
and yet a mere trifie did the business.
OF sudden pet poodle pursued by a
gang of boys ran up to Bones as if to
ask for protection. He picked up the
dog and carried it along, and, though
threatened by the hoodlums, he clung
to the canine. After walking two
blocks he came upon a carriage con-
tanning girl about ten years old. The
poodle had escaped from the carriage
as it was driving through Willow place,
and the little one was crying piteously
over her loss.
Bones walked directly to the vehicle
and placed the dog in her arms, and
the overjoyed girl reached out for his
hand and exclaimed:
"Oh, you good, good mani You look
ragged, but | know you're not bad. I'll
give you some money, and if you'll
come and see papa l know he'll find a
place for you and help you along. My
name Is Minnie, and it was so good of
you, and"-
But the driver shook his whip at the
vagabond and started up his horses.
For the rest of that day Bones was
only outwardly Bones He had been
kindly addressed by a human being.
He had been told that some one might
help him upward. His hand had been
shaken in gratitude, and he had been
called a good man. There was some
thing new here to hold his thoughts
and turn over in his mind, and he was
so preoccupied that he crept to his bed
in n coalyard without having begged
the usual crust.
ut must be that | am a human be-
ing after all. II | hadn't been, the girl
wouldn't have spoken as she did. To
have some one shake hands with me,
to call me n good man, to thank me
for a service-I can't make it out. But
It's come too late. I'm too old to
change. Nothing could lift me up now,
nothing give me back what l have
lost. There's only one thing l can do,
and that's TO pray God | may die like
a man-like the man once was"
A week later, though Bones heard
nothing of it, all London thrilled with
excitement and indignation over a case
of kidnapping A little girl, the daugh-
ter of banker had been caught up
at her fathers very gate In the dusk
Of evening and carried off in n carriage
Bones never read the newspapers, and
1t was seldom that he was in the com
pany of one who did. Had he read or
heard all about the case, however, it
would only have been Of passing inter
est-just another crime to lengthen the
daily list
One day he slouched along David
street again. He had been driven out
of his lodgings in the coalyard, and as
winter was coming on he was looking
for a vacant house to turn into o.
nights. Between Great George and
Canterbury streets he discovered a ter
race Of four houses which were for
rent. One OF them cornered on an a.
ley, and after n careful reconnaissance
Bones decided that an entrance might
he effected after dark. He would have
neither bed nor fire. but the poorest
Of the rooms would be comfortable for
a yagabond.
When night came, Bones was on
hand r was not the first vacant
house by hundred in which he had
taken up temporary quarters, and he
knew the trick of prying open cellar
windows. once In the cellar, the light
Of match showed him the way up
stairs, ana as he reached the kitchen
he was surprised to find a bit of fire
in the range and the remains of meal
on a shelf. Before giving the matter
any thought he ate up all the food be-
fore him and hugged the range until
he had ceased 10 shiver. Some one had
been ahead OF him, 1t was not vag-
abond like himself, because there We're
the food and the fire, and thieves and
burglars would have no call to enter
empty houses. A half consumed can
die showed that the tenant had been
there for a night or two, and 1t was
likely he had "A key to one of the doors.
Bones was somewhat mystified, but
not frightened. With Il lighted candle in