Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 April 1895 — GRADS AND THE TRAMP. [ARTICLE]

GRADS AND THE TRAMP.

The Famous Editor Had Not Forgotten Hie Old Friend. _LouisvingPost.__ Henry W. Grady, whose pen gave the South new thoughts, and whose silvery eloquence awakened a spirit the sunshine of his philosophy into his everyday life. He was beloved in Atlanta as no man there has ever been. Especially was he the ideal of the poor and humble. Mr. Grady always sympathized with a man that was broke. He had been that way himself, several times. His charity usually kept his pockets empty. One afternoon a type of printer, common enough in the southern country, a few years ago, but since the advent of typesetting machines seldom seen anywhere, went intc the Constitution offiee on a “panhandling” tour. Some of the re. porters and editors contributed tc his relief fund, but most of them didn’t. Finally Mr. Tourist reached Mr, Grady’s desk. “Don’t let me interrupt you, Mr. Grady; just droppedMn to see your co-laborers and yourself—and collect a few bits,” he said. “I am very busy today, and, really, I haven’t a sou, 1 ’ replied Grady, his big, open face beaming-with kindness on bis visitor. “Sorry, very,” said the tramp. “1 wilLseq you late r. ” He did. In half an hour the man camt back. This time he went directly to Mr. Grady’s desk, and laid upoc it a full length “dupe” sheet, upon which the following was printed in four-line pica characters: “Henry W. Grady, To Sam Robinson, Dr. “To express charges on paper,s2.7s;’ “Used to work for you,” f aid Mr. Robinson, as he placed his long, unwashed right index finger on the “dupe” sheet and fondiy disturbed his auburn whiskers with his lefl hand, which was innocent of water ( “Reckon youdisremember Sam Rob inson, eh?” Robinson had changed a great deal. Corn whisky had planted numerous crowsfeet near his eyes and rather demoralized him generally, but his name, manner and peculiai drawl had not changed, and Grady instantly recognized them when they were associated together. Grady remembered, too, that Robinson had lent him $2.75 to get his pauer oui of the express office two years before. ,‘Thought it was you all the time, Sam,” exclaimed Grady, jumping up. “Shake. How are you, anyway?” “Merely so so,” replied Mr. Robinson, “and devilish thirsty.” “Let’s have something. We’ll gel 'the $2.75 at the counting room as we BfO out.” And the great Southern journalist and Sam Robinson, the tramp, went out together. » A few days.later I met Robinson. He looked like another man. He was about Mr. Grady’s size, and the clothes he wore looked very muck like Mr. Grady’s, r