The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1903-07-24

RsR ri finances. Yet that is what
'--'''a-''---S Raoul DelisIc did, though
he was young well uurtmed ard with.
In the memory OF his old ueighbors.
It was a dark, rainy night in May
when be alight.d in the DID, familiar
station. He saw an acquaintance Of
the old days huyryinS across the area
The man owed him $40. In his own
pocket was forty cents But his
clothes were threadbare. faded and ILL
fitting and he could not bring himself
10 accOst his debtor. Raoul was tired
and hungry. lie had come West from
Buffalo in day coaches with few oppor-
tuuities ana small means TO satisfy
his hunger
lie knew exactly the way to his old
home, but as ne wandered thither he
realized that the growing traffic of the
town had cncroachcd upon what once
was the most aristocratic section. As
lie trudgcd along In the narrow shelter
Of the houses, he remembered the very
corners he had turned, riding in the
cab which bore him upon his first
start for Germany Those had been
noble, radiant, lalcyon days, when he
babe goodbye 60 his father and friends
and set out for a tour OF Europe and
a course Of study at Leipsic There
was no reason why he should go to the
old home. His father was dead, his
family scattered and poor. Il had all
happened like a devastating storm
of the prairies while he was crossing
the sea- Even tie funeral had oc-
Cured before lie reached New York.
Ten years had passed since he had
learned that lie was an orphan, a
pauper, an outcast Of fortune
Raoul was a very commonplace man.
lie had done the best he knew, and
was quite sure that it was very bad.
After decade OF precariOus adventure
in a dozen trades he was now so poor
that the anticipation of breakfast was
almost rs remote and fantastical as his
bcyish dreams Of heaven. He went
in,o cheap cafe near the depot and
bought q meal Of bacon and eggs, with
bad coffee and faded lettuce as tokens
OF the prodigality of the menu. When
he came out the rain was falling in
cold, shifting sheets, though it Was
May. He turned up his coat coial
and edged along by the walls toward
the old house. Ten years make 4
mighty change in the average Ameri-
can city. Raoul found 0utbuilt, ore.
story store fronts in some Of the Old
mansions where the elite Of the older
day had lived and triumphed. The
old corner church, whose chime OF bells
was yet fresh in his memory, had been
transformed into q barr0om, with wine
parlor and q gayety where once had
been sanctuary and auditorium. Yards
which he remembered as green, breath
ing spots Of his boyhood, were black
and Shiny with the CRIME Of smoke
and moisture.
He recalled with a bitter smile tic
stories he had told his cousin Mar.
guerite in LeiDsic Of the glories, the
freedom, the opportunity, the repub
licanism Of his home. OF what fields
there were for her young genius as
musician; Of what hope there was for
her un-German yearning for persona.
recognition. How lucky" thought he
chat she had sense enough to forget
my invitation 10 visit us-to visit thl
DeisIcs-and know at first hand Tx
splcndor which l then thought to bC
real"
He skunk down the street bending
his thin face from the slanting rain
lie began to wonder where he woulC
pass the night The wind blew keel
ana chill against his tatterad front
His heart, warm yet with the unbiddel
memory Of Marguerite, his yellow
haired cousin Of the far land, was no
cast down.
I shall pass by the cid home" b
thought.
And then he looked into the gray
ashen, rain-swept lot where he hat
played marbles and flown his kit
when a boy. There was frost in th
whipping wind which swept across il
and Raoul. alert now, and yet Oblivion
Of the years, fastened along till h
stood in the wet shadows Of the oil
house-the home that had been hi
fathers and might have been his owl
The OLD iron palirg that had separate
its narrow lawn from the sidewalk wa
battered and rusty. He looked up q
its foggy walls and felt the tweak @
pity at his heart when he saw tia
some Of its blank, unlightad window
were b., ken. He lodged into the sR
ter of its sQualid doorway and tr.2
to picture the last day Of It's activity