Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-01-09
Continued.

He turns from the bar. The same
barrels at the back of the room; the
same ghastly blue ceiling and walls;
the same musty odor; the same dim
haziness, as If 1t were a pit of Hades
in which the sulphur had just burned
out. The very sawdust on the floor
might be the same, for IL is the old
familiar pasty mire. AS he looks the
hot humiliation burns in him! Why,
this where he had lived! 1t had been
home! Home, That deep shame in
creases in him. 1t is good that he has
come here this day. 1t is good that
he remembers every loathsome OBJ
ject. Let him never forget!
Upon the benches sit four battered
old hulks. no, three, for Jerry-the-
Limp has now risen, and, with his
most exaggerated lameness, is thump-
ing across the floor, his face awhine.
Red Whitley is looking mournfully at
the ceiling: for Red, too. is an artist
With elderly gentlemen he always
has contrition of soul! Piggy Mar
shall is uninterested. He only works
on the sympathies of drunken men.
Tank Tonkey's fish-like eyes follow
Jerry-the-Limp anNiously. There
might be drinks for the crowd, for
Jerry's guile is famous. All the same;
everything!
A sudden nausea seizes the strang-
| frowsy, unkempt, unclean beasts by
their names. and they would answer.
These had been his friends! Not one
of them but is as good as he had
| been Their foulness had been his
foulness Bow Wow! That had been
his name in this abhorrent hole. this
cess-pool filled with human mire!
have sunk so low! So far away from
lean and TaVNl
Friend of Biny's? Mike Dowd.
He is inspecting the stranger with
curiosity.
Very much So" The stranger
raises his glass to his lips and takes
a contemplative sip. his mind filled
with awe of this place, and of the
unreal-like fact that he could ever
have been a part of it. Jerry-the-
Limp leans against the bar near by,
and means. He pays no attention
to any one; just means!
"Billy's a grand boy!" This from
| Mike. Comes in here two or three
times a week for some of my special.
| l have a barrel of the finest old whisky
on the Bowery."
The stranger mods.
BILLY has friends everywhere" he
says with a touch of pride. Does
he always drink your special?"
Two or three slugs every trip. He
drank what you're drinking to-day.
/ Are you John Doe?"
! The stranger glances, startled, into
the eyes of big Mike, but he meets
there only the friendly interest of a
man who has heard his praises.
II am"
EST. Patrick" That is only NUT
/ tered Mike Dowd leans back against
| his bar and gaZes at John Doe as if
he were one risen from the dead, and
the more he gazes the more his Won
der grows. "Glad to meet you, Mr..
his paralysis, stretches forward a
huge palm. "Billy's been telling me
what a wonder you are!"
Jerry-the-Limp means and means.
t his poor. crippled leg drawn up, his
hand pressed to his side, his head
bent, and his mouth piteously dropped.
He is suffering intolerable agony, is
Jerry-the-Limp!
II did not know that Billy was
singing my praises" This with a
trace of concern.
1T was only by accident that it
started" returns big Mike, with an
eye on his customers. and a monoton-
Gus evenness in his voice. II was in
on it in the beginning, you know
and after that 1 kept asking. l amt
bad fellow. Doe. l like to see people
do WELL" then he leans against the
back bar for another long wondering
gaze. "St. Patrick"
Jerry-the-Limp suddenly stops
moaning. on the ear of John Doe
there is a peculiar little bump, like
a small mole. On the hand of John
Doe there is a thin white scar. on
the cheek of John Doe just at the
side of his nose and above the neatly
cropped mustache, is a small black
burn like a powder mark. The eyes
of Jerry-the-Limp open in unison
with his mouth, his poor, crippled
leg straightens down, his head
stretches forward. and, for a moment
he scarcely breathes.
"Bow-Wow"
You're a liar!" yells big Mike
Placing one hand on the bar he leaps
over it, and by some miracle of quick
/ reaching, there is a bungstarter in
his hand when he lands!
Jerry-the-Limp is gone. darting out
on the Bowery as swiftly, with his
poor crippled leg, as any other mar
could do with two whole ones.
Tank Tonkey and Piggy Marshall
and Red Whitley are standing stupid
lly in a row, and gaping dazedly al
the stranger, but when Mike DOVE
looks at them they sit down in a row
Give them a drink" and Johr
Doe puts some money on the bar. He
reaches out and shakes hands witt
Mike Dowd. Thank you," he say:
gravely, and passes out into the
Spring.
/ 1t is Spring in Vanheuster Square
The annual blade of grass in the
northeast plot has come up with
sturdy persistence, and has beer
trampled down, and is done for the
season. The dusty fir tree has hope,
fully shot new tips of green on it:
forlorn branches, and on the topmos
bough sits a long robin, that Cheerful
optimist who predicted Spring through
all the snow and rain and dreary fog
and now he is carolling his throat ou
in triumph that his prediction ha.
at last come true.
There are other signs of Spring in
Vanheuster Square. In almost every
window there is bedding out for con
valescence in the balmy air and tht
healing sun. But in the fourth flool
windows of number seventy-nine ther,
is no bedding, there are no curtains
there are no shades. Only bleal
emptiness and glistening blackness!
"I like the old place after ALL" 4
beautiful girl with shining black curl
and an oval face, and wonderful biz
dark gray eyes.
you'll like the new one better
Tavy." smiles the tall young man, al
they look up at the bleak windows
He is a handsome fellow, we'll set up
broad shoulders, clear-eyed. and will
a good nose. jaws and chin. Their
or pn rlkq him