Daily press. [volume] (Newport News, Va.) 1896-current, 1909-11-14

|, life began to sing In my soul. TneB
IL stormed Within me,. aud my blood
burned Then left books and stais--
never TO return" toFe
Well. now you are getting poeti-
CAL" the poet said in a friendly man
ner: bat the stranger emptied bis
wine-glass and arose.
1t Is late" be said. II won't trou-
bic you longer II really 10 the very
first time | have ever called on you.
and II viii be the last also 4 have
called on you as bastard calls on
the father whose name he Is not 81
lowed TO bear. but whom he yet
longs 10 see once at least"
Somewhere Ia a book. which Is UNI
known TO you. perhaps. and In which
have not read much. the following
words are written: Behold. we hare
forsaken all and followed thee; what
shall we have therefore,? These
words are constantly repeated IN my
thoughts tonight. ea
yea. dear master. we have really
left everything 10 follow you, So we
have nothing more to leave. We even
have no soles on our shoes, so the
water and the mud OF the roads
trickle In, making our ragged stock
ings wet and stin. We have no
money In our pockets. and no credit
at the restaurants. ! am tired OF
myself, and almost dead from hunger
and drinking and misery OF life- My
mother is a poor scrub-woman. and
myself have stolen books from the
store I once owned and sold 10 buy
me favors of women. And the law has
had me In it's claws. and ] have
pleaded as a wretch. but yet they |
have imprisoned me. And now within |
a short time shall make use OF the |
weapon which Is concealed In my |
breast pocket. And shall die In |
beauty, as another famous poet has
told. Then am a suicide. condemned !
by people. doomed by God. :.
Behold we have forsaken all and |
followed thee: what shall We have !
therefore,"
The young stranger became silent. !
and there was an intense silence In !,
the room. Not single sound was |
heard from outside: the night was |,
dark and still. the two men were en- |!
tirely alone. Pale and wasted the |
young man stood before the only door \
Of the room with his hand pointing at |
the breast pocket wherein the revol. |
yer was concealed. The poet sat In |
his chair motioniess. his hands were |
moist and cold. he almost could hear |
the throbbing OF his heart.
Yes" said the stranger at last. and |
his voice sounded more depressed and i
polite now. That's all have to say. |
thought IL would perhaps interest |
you TO hear IT, Sometimes you might |
even think a little about 1t while you |
are enjoying your summer vacation at
the country home Of your rich pub
Usher.
The young man bowed his head In
silence for a few seconds and then |
left the room.
The poet followed him. Thanks.
you need not light me out" the stran-
ger said. Il really own box OF
matches. Goodnight and thank you
for this night" He stumbled down
the upper steps on the landing; be
paused and struck a match.
The poet heard his weary guest
stopping once more farther down. and
another match was struck. With
trembling knees he turned to &C in.
Then cry was heard. which In the
stiffness OF the night echoed through
the stairs. 1t was the young man.
that from far below called up to the
one who had controlled his life and
caused his death through his writing.
Farewell: we viii meet again"