The river press., 1911-08-16

to be tramp. They called him
"boss" and good feller." and when lie
returned home his face wore the smile
always seen on the face of 81 good
man. 1t is smile that tells oi the
happiness of the soul no matter how
much the body may be suffering from
torpid liver.
The philanthropist was ur al hour
before his usual time. He hunted up
an old suit to put on. Mrs Rowser
saw that he wasn't going to the Office.
but it was noon before she knew
where he was.
He came to lunch so full of his
scheme Of rejuvenat ton that he had to
talk or bust.
"Well. I've got it under way" he
said.
"You are redeeming tramps. ehT'
II am. When l was out last evening
had talk with a dozen of them.
Each and every one Of them was a
victim of misfortune, and some Of
their tales were pitiful to hear. That
Is true saying, Mrs. Bowser. that
mans inhumanity to man makes
countless thousands mourn"
III you have any money to give out,
Mr.. Bowser. please remember that
need hosiery about as badly as tramps
need redeeming"
Fourteen 1ramps at Work.
II have given no money as vet.
have rented vacant lot down the
street and got fourteen tramps to spad-
ing and making garden beds and plant
Ing. This evening l shall pay them a
dollar apiece. l have also agreed to
give them shares in the enterprise.
No man ever saw men work better
They realize that it is a chance to re-
deem themselves. Indeed. l had to
caution them not to overwork. If ten
other men in this city will follow my
example there won't be a tramp on
street corner. l believe the idea will
spread half round the world"
do you expect to be interviewed by
any newspaper men:" asked Mrs. Bow
ser.
"One had an interview with me an
hour ago. and there will be others this
afternoon. That makes me think. II
any of them come to the house you are
to say nothing-nothing whatever. You
are not in this thing at ALL You might
say that you have always considered a
tramp human hyena and been as
mean and insulting to him as you
possibly could, but don't go to taking
any credit for what I'm doing. This is
Bowser. and Bowser alone. Well,
must hurry back to my men,"
Mr. Bowser had bought spades and
shovels and hoes and seeds. He hadn't
gone into the tramp redeeming busi-
ness on no two cent scale. He reached
the lot to find only one man in sight.
and he was a butcher with a grin on
his face.
"In there" he said, pointing to a sa-
loon.
"What is it?"
"Your tools.'
"But don't understand"
All the Tools Pawned.
'Tramps pawned them for beer.
They told me to tell you that they had
given the matter their most serious
consideration and had come to the
conclusion that they didn't want to
be uplifted. They said as how you
might try 1t on the cold storage men.
Is there anything else can do for you
today?"
There was. Mr.. Bowser grabbed
him by the hair and showed him
against billboard and then flung him
down. Then he entered the saloon
and found that every implement had
been pawned for five drinks of beer
all around. He would have had
fight about it, but the bouncer had
him out and half way across the street
before he could open his mouth.
Then a crowd gathered, and the
philanthropist was asked If he wasn't
feeling we'll and what idiot asylum he
had escaped from and lots Of other
mean things. Mr.. Bowser was crush
ed. He bowed his head and went
home. Mrs. Bowser met him at the
door without sarcastic smile or
word to hurt and led him to the
lounge and laid him down and cov-
cred him up and then sat by him and
smoothed his marble brow till he slept.
He Got the Pass.
II want pass"
spocc2 Vo,l,ro MT untitled to q pocc