Indiana daily times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1914-1922, 1921-06-18

/ words; his freshet of tears had soaked
away the crust of his grief. Reminis-
cence died in him-at least, the coherent
part Of 1t.
"'Twas me that did it, he muttered,
as led him toward the. door--"me, the
shoemaker Of Jerusalem"
| l got him to the sidewalk, and in the
augmented light / saw that his face
was scared and lined and warped by
sadness almost incredibly the product
| of single lifetime.
And then high up in the ornamental
darkness We heard the claimant cries Of
some great, passing birds. My Wander
ing Jew lifted his hand, with side-tilted
head.
"The Seven Whistlers p he said, as one
introduces well-known friends.
wild geese" said 1; "but 1 confess
that their number is beyond me-"
They follow me everywhere" he said
Twas so commanded. What we hear
is the souls of the seven Jews that helped
with the crucifxion. Sometimes they're
plovers and sometimes geese, but yen
find them always flynn where I CO."
stood, uncertain how to take my
leave. looked down the street, shuf-
fed my feet, looked back again-and
felt my hair rise. The old man had dis
appeared.
And then my capillaries relaxed, for
l dimly saw him footing it away
through the darkness. But he walked
! so swiftly and silently and contrary to
the gait promised by his age that my
composure was not all restored, though
knew not why.
That night l was foolish enough TO
take down some dust-covered volumes
from my modest shelves. 1 searched
'Hermippus Redivvus" and "SalathieP'
and the "Pepys Collection" in vain,
And then in book called THE Citizen
Of the World and in one two centuries
| old, l came upon what l desired.
Michob Alder had indeed come to Paris in
the year 1913, and related to the Turkish
/ extraordinary 10
to be the Wandering jew and that
! But here L fell asleep, for my edi-
torial duties had not been light that
Judge Hoover was the Bugle's can
didate for Congress. Having to confer
with him. l sought his home early the
down towH through little street with
which | was unfamiliar.
Did you ever hear of Michob Alder 7"
l asked him, smiling.
Why. yes" said the Judge. and
for mending. Here is his shop now
Judge hoover stepped into a dingy,
and saw Mike o'Bader, Boot ct and Shoe
/ Maker" on it. Some wild geese passed
above. honking clearly. I scratched my
ear and frowned, and then trailed into
/ the shop.
There sat my Wandering Jew on his
shoemaker's bench, trimming a haf-sole.
He was drabbled with dew, grass-stained,
unkempt, and miserable; and on his face
was still the unexplained wretchedness.
the probIemattc sorrow, the esotertc woe,
That had been written there by nothing
less, 1t seemed, than the stylus of the
/ centuries.
Judge Hoover inquired kindly con-
look ed up. and spoke sanely enough He
had been i'll. he said. for a few days.
Inc next day the shoes would be ready.
had no place in his memory. So out
we went, and on our way
"Old Nike" remarked the candidate
has been on one of his sprees. He
gets crazy drunk regularly once month.
But he good shoemaker"
/ What is his history" I inquired.
Whiskey," epitomized Judge Hoover.
That explains him"
1 was silent. but I did not accept the
explanation. And so. when I had the
chance, asked old man Sellers, who
browsed daily on my exchanges.
Mike O'Bader," said he was maxim
shoes in Montopolis when I come here
goin' on fifteen year ago l guess
whisky's his trouble. Once a month he
gets of the track, and stays so a week
Hes got a rigmarole somethin about
! his bein' Jew peddler that he tells
! ey rybody. Nobody won't listen to him
any more. When he's sober he amt sieh
a fool-hes got a sight of books in the
back room of his shop that he reads. /
guess you can lay all his trouble to
whisky"
But again I would not. Not yet was
/ my wandering Jew rightly construed for
I me- l trust that women may not be al
/ lowed title to all the curiosity in the
/ hahitant (some ninety score years
younger than Aichob Aderl dropped in
TO acquire PRONUNCIATION in print, ST.
phoned his perpetual tricks of reminis-
preted maker of shoes.
Uncle Abner was the, Complete His
tory OF Montopolis, bound il butternut.
go y Bader, ne quavered, come here in
! 3d. He was the first shoemaker in the
/ place Folks generally considers him
crazy at times now. But he don't harm
/ nobody. / s'pose drinkin' upset his mind
yes, drinkin' very likely done it. It's
q, powerful bad thing, drinkin' I'm an
Old old man, sir, and never see no
good in drinkin'"
| felt disappointed / was willing to
| admit drink in the case of my shoe
/ maker, but l preferred it as a recourse
instead of cause. Why had he pitched
| upon ms perpetual, strange note Of tbs
| wandering Jew?- Why his unutterable
| grief during his alteration? 1 could NOT
yet accept whisky as an explanation.
Did Mike OBader ever have a great
loss or trouble of any kind?" I asked
Lemme see! About thirty year ago
there was somethin' of the kind, /
| recollect. Montopolis, sir, i'm them DAYS
use to be mighty strict place
Vel Mike o'Bader had a daughter
gay a sort for Montopolis, so one day
she slips off to another town and runs
away with a circus. 1t was two wears
before she comes back all fixed I'm In
fine clothes and rings and jewelry. TO
see Mike He wouldn't have nothfn' to
do with her, so she stays around town
awhile, anyway. l reckon the men
folks wouldn't have raised no objections
but the women egged 'em on to order
her to leave town. But she had plenty
of spunk and told em to mind their
own business.
80 enc night they decided to run
her away. A crowd of men and women
drove her out of her house and chased
her with sticks and stones She run to
her fathers door, calm for help. Mike
opens it, and when he sees who it is
he hits her with his fist and knocks her
down and shuts the door.
And then the crowd kept on chunk
in her till she run clear out of town
And the next day they finds her
drowned dead in Hunters mill pond
mind it all now. That was thirty year
ago"
leaned back in my monetary re-
volving chair and nodded gently, ike
When old Mike has a spell.' went
on Uncle Abner, tepidly garrulous,' me
thinks he's the Wanderin' jew"
He is" said 1, nodding away.
And Uncle Abner cackled insinuatingly
at the editors remark, for be was ex-
pecting at least a 'stickfuI" in the
personal Notes of the Bugle.
CITY 87TH IN
DN0"AT GA wYTAYTG