Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1906-06-30

Sdhic ~ me dSdfi, anu look my mana.
He found place for me in his bank. As
to my wife, he simply idoIized her.
1.-Two children, boy and a girl, came
to us, and it seemed to me / had found
a paradise. Then, suddenly and almost
before | could realize it, the heaven was
a hell. Our boy was taken down with
fever and died; c month later the little
girl was gone; the shock to my wife was
too much, and few weeks later she, too,
passed away. Then came the panic,
sweeping away our bank, leaving us
heavily in debt. The blow was too much
for my poor father, and he left me to
bear it alone.
Life had turned black. / took to
drink again, and soon became a dissi-
pated sot, drifting lower and lower. l
became the companion of drunkards: |
craved for drink all the time-drink to
shut out the memory of the wife and
children whose picture you see there in
the locket. And now" Another par
oXysm OF coughing racked his frame.
When it was over ne buried his head in
his hands, and shook with emotion.
Greenberg was thoroughly moved. He
had heard pitiful tales before, but none
that was as sincere and as tragic as
this. He opened his lips once or twice
to SPEAK, but the words would not come.
Then he turned to his safe, opened the
cash drawer and took out four crisp $40
bills, which he placed before the man
with his locket.
The consumptive shook his head. "No,"
he said, Il cannot take it; l cannot. Just
give me whatever the locket is worth to
YOU: | will earn the rest"
The pawnbroker wrote out a ticket
for SIS for the locket and placed it on
top of the money. Here's your ticket"
he said simply, ''and here's $25 to help
you bit. l can spare it. | have a son
and wife, too, and 1 understand. Call it
personal loan, if you like, but don't
worry about paying it. And when you
get home, if you find you cannot redeem
the locket, just write me and l will send
it you. You" his voice was husky and
coarse with emotion-'you will want it
to remember them by"
With hearty handshake the two men
parted. Sam Greenberg, pawnbroker,
went back to his desk and puffed con-
tentedly at his cigar. The world looked
even brighter than it had to Sam Green
berg.
There was a discussion going on in
the rooms of the Pawnbrokers' club
about hard luck" stories and the i'm
preston they made ON those who loaned.
The point was advanced that while many
sympathized with the unfortunates,
pawnbroker seldom or never offered any
real assistance.
Sam Greenberg took the cigar from
his mouth, and told little story about
himself. He told it simply and with
no idea of clarifying himself, as those
who listened all knew.
The interest at first was not great.
As he continued, however, first Jacobs,
then Mcmillan and Rosenstein, and final
ly Schmidt, began to straighten up and
listen attentively. Detective Claiming,
frequent visitor at the club, sauntered
over to the group and stayed to hear the
story. Like the others, his attention
wandered at first; but gradually a smile
lighted up his face, which grew into a
broad grin as Greenberg continued. At
the end he was laughing heartily.
The story teller looked up at him with
puzzled brow. whats the joke, Chan
ming? What are you laughing about?'
The detective sobered up enough to
speak. "The-the jokes on you. I'm
afraid, SAM" he said. Il regret to in
form you that you have been done up
brown to the tune of about $50 That
consumptive fellow was Con Game Per-
cy,' one of the cleverest confidence graft
ers in the business. He always keeps
well within the pale of the law, as in
this case, and we can't touch him. His
tale is always sad and art-touching,
and his oily tongue seldom fails to drag
money out of sentimental and soft-he
ed souls like you, SAM
But this fellow was sick" objected
Greenberg; Ibis face showed want and
suffering, and his cough was surely that
of consumptive."
Indeed" sneered the detective, good
naturally That face was a trick of
the makeup box, and that awful cough
was a Renaissance of his theatrical DAYS.
He used to be an actor, and clever one.
too, but the ponies and the women made
him a worthless scamp. Sick! Why,
he's as healthy as a nut, and the fun
NEST part of all is that he never took
drink in his life, being a total abstainer.
But he won't work"
Sam Greenberg took the cigar from
MS mouth and looked absently at the
ceiling. Then he threw the reeking
stump on the floor and brought his fist
down on the table with bang.
We'll, of all the soft things-Pll be
blessed!"
Jacobs looked up sheepishly. "And
T. he said. He got me on the same
story"
Detective Claiming chuckled. "And
you others?"
Mcmillan, Rosenstein and Schmidt
nodded sorowfully.
Cinch," Kissed Sam Greenberg.
"Swindler," muttered Jacobs.
"A thafe," snickered Mcmillan.
Film FAM" grunted Rosenstein.
"Chackass," shouted Schmidt, hyster-
ieally.-Matthew Goldman in the GRAY
Goose.
Fond Memories.