Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 February 1884 — THE BAD BOY. [ARTICLE]

THE BAD BOY.

“Come in, come in," said the grocery 'm n to the bad boy, as he stopped on .the doorstep outside the grocery to go down into his pistol pocket for a little Vbange for a tramp that had come out of the grocery just ahead of the Fg ocery man’s boot “Come right in, mid don’t stand there talking with such cattle,” and the grocery man looked as mad as though he had left the spigot cf the molassae barrel running. "What’s the matter with you ?” said the bad boy, as he watched the tramp go into a bakery and come ont with a loaf of bread, and go off chewing the end of it as though it was the sweetest morsel a white man ever put a tooth into, and the smile the tramp showed on one side of the bread as he salftted the bad boy through the window was worth a dollar to the boy. “You seem to have got out of the wrong end of the bed this morning. What ails you?” “Oh, the tramps, and beggars, and subscriptions, and games to beat an honest man out of his hard-earned money,” said the grocery man, as he threw a hatchet on the floor with which he had been splitting up a box, and kicked a market basket across the room. “There is not a day but some one comes in here after money. Why don’t people that haven’t got any money go to the poor-house ? Why don’t sick people go to the hospitals? Condemn it! I have had people come in here for help for the Old Ladies’ home, and the Old Men’s home, and to sell ball tickets to help people that have ibeen sand-bagged, till I hope I may never see another person asking for help as long as I live.” “And you never would see another person asking for help, or coming to buy any of your decayed groceries, if they knew what kind of a hard-hearted sold pirate you was. Why, blast your jold vinegar countenance, you haven’t sot a heart bigger than a mustard Iseed,” said the boy, as he picked up the hatchet for fear the grocery man would Isplit him for kindling wood. | “Yes I have,” said the grocery man, find he appeared a little ashamed of what he had said. “My heart is all light, but they play it on me. The pther day I gave a tramp 5 cents to puy bread, and he went and bought a ■glasp of beer at a free-lunch place. That made me mad.” | “Well, bread, plain dry bread, is oretty hard eating. would yon like to go out on the sidewalk and gn»w fi dinner off a loaf of dry bread ? The isramp knew his business. He could go ■X) a saloon with that nickel and buy a tjlass of beer as though he had a bushel bf money, and while he was drinking it le could go to the lunch counter and gbt sausage, and rye bread, and head bheese, and liver, and cold ham, all for lothing. If you had only a nickel left, rad had a full-sized stomach, perfectly knpty, which would you do, stand out in a cold corner and chew bread, with bo water nearer than the lake, or would rou go into a nice warm saloon, buy a jlass of beer and have a big dinner brown in for a chromo. By gosh, you >ould go to the saloon, and you would ■flake the lunch counter look sick. No\>ody else keeps a warm place for ;ramps to eat free lunches by buying 5 cents’ worth of goods, and a tramp Bvould be a fool if he didn’t take advantage of such a chance, when the bermometer is 30 degrees below zero.” “I swow, I don’t know but you are ight, Hennery,” said the grocery man, with a forced smile. “I guess I would baralyze that lunch. But a man has bo business to be a tramp. Why don’t hey go to work ?” “Work? Why don’t you give one of hem work ? Nobody has any work for . tramp. A tramp may be a son of a aember of Congress, but if he has >een on the turf until he has had to iawn his clothes, one article after anther, to keep from starving, and looks iard, you don’t want him. He may be aore honest than you are, and letter educated, but his clothes ire thin, and he looks seedy, .nd cold, and hungry, and hasn’t ;ot any money. You do not stop to bink that he may be a thoroughbred. Ton fire him out, and he gets so he jhinks there isn’t a man in the world jrith a soul. If he steals, it is to keep him from starving, and not to lay up none;, like some gocers.” { “Hold on there, boy. I don’t steal—brach," said the grocery man. “But, tramps are all right enough. These ild people’s homes, where old men and women are kept in idleness, is what nakes me tired. Why don’t they go pnd live with their folks ?” | “Well, you are a smart Aleck,” said boy. “Why don’t they live with j|heir folks? That is good. Do you suppose these old people would go to a baritable home if they had one of jbeir own? They have outlived relatives and friends who would take care j»f them, and go to the home, where dnd-hearted strangers make the last lay of their lives as happy as possible, >nd they depend upon what they can ;et from people who have hearts, to >ay the expenses, and it is not often bat any person with a soul kicks at a ittle contribution towards banking up he stomachs of the old people who ,mve been pioneers when the country vas new. Many of these old people, viiom you find fault with for being old md poor, were rich and respected vhen you. were poor and ignorant, and t is possible you may be closed out by vour creditors some day, and have to ;o io a poor-house, and then von can appreciate it when some iither blasted skinflint refuses to contribute to your support. But you will lot be troubled any more by people Killing for aid, for I shall have a sign .painted and nailed up on the corner, laying there is no use of any person in leed of aid to keep them from want and (offering coming to you, for you are lowu on poor people and consider them lead beats, and that you will kick any person out doors who comes in asking :or anything, and that you growl and grumble more over giving away a nickel ban some people would in giving $5. C will fix you so that you can enjoy a jiuiet life. Let me take that box cover rad a paint pot a minute, please.” "No, you don’t,” said the grocery nun, pale with shame and excitement. ‘You don’t put up no sign. What I (aid about giving to the poor was said

hi a moment ot passion, when f had a hot box, bat you have showed me what a blasted old fool I am, and hereafter I will give freely to anybody that comes. Great Caesar, I wouldn’t have such a sign nut up for SI,OOO. It would ruin my business.” “Well, don’t ever Fay anything again ahcut charity that you would be ashamed to see in print,” and the bad boy went out whistling “The Dotlet on the Eye.”— Peck’* Sun.