The Birmingham age-herald., 1914-06-10
ToMoRRow--TRIAL OF COUNT voN ARNl,r
OF A PENNY

George Saint-Amour, in the Cleveland Plain Dealer.
 EN me you see a witness to the whole
 H gamut of human emotions
 l have scared on the wings of high hope. I have been plunged into the depths of deepest despair. I have been the instrument of ruin, and have been the instrument of redemption. Once a thief stole me
 Once a poor woman gave me to a poorer woman.
 Once a pretty lady lost me in a street car and a fine gentleman rescued me from a crack into which I had rolled | and the pretty lady thanked the fine old gentleman, and he was smitten by her charmes and she was struck by his hand some manliness, and they were married. Since then their child, little girl with brown curls, has owned me for brief two hours-but she wanted candy more | than she wanted me.
 I have made up the last farthing neces- sary to pay off the mortgage on the widows home; and I have been stacked in treasury vault where there were millions of dollars.
 Once l was lying in the gutter where careless man had let me drop. And the mud accumulated over me and I was turning green with the verdigris which had gathered on my soiled face. A ragged man came along. He had a good face and a sound body. but he looked utterly dis couraged, for he could not find work Ia tall llr r,,,er tn tI,; nate ragged man. If I could find just one more penny to add to these four" he was saving as he jingled four pennies in his hand, I could get cup of coffee and a bun at that little lunch counter over there-and then l would make one more desperate try at getting job" He was kicking in the mud with the toe of his old shoe, not hunting for me, but just kicking, and he unearthed me, and he did get a job. I have been twice at his house since. He Is happy now with his wife and two children.
 Once upon time-let me see, it was about five years ago-I, humble me- the smallest coin by way of value we have, made a true philanthropist of a miserly millionaire. This old man who owned many. many dollars-a great many more than he had any earthly use for (and dol lars are no good in the other p1ace)-was taking his usual evening stroll through the square. He was scowling and sour looking. At those who looked poverty stricken he sneered. for, according to his philosophy they had no right to be poverty | stricken. At those who were husltng 1 from their jobs he scoffed, for to him it seemed foolish for men and women to work day after day at mere jobs: why didn't they do better? At those who looked equally as prosperous as he he
 scowled, for he envied them; he did not like to see anyone equally as prosper
 ous as he was.
 l A little boy stood in front of him. l holding out a newspaper which was soiled and crumpled. Please buy a newspa- per-" whined the little boy, shivering for it was cold. 'I need just one more
 penny to buy place to sleep'
 Snow was falling and the boys cloth ing was thin.
 Why don't you sell clean newspapers
 then asked the old millionaire.
 T have only cents and am trying
 to keep them. A man gave me this pa per. He was running to get on a street car" the boy replied.
 The old millionaire stared at the boy sternly. He did not like beggars. Why
 should anyone beg
 Where is your father?" the old mil
 lionaire asked.