Santa Ana High School - Ariel Yearbook (Santa Ana, CA)

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, THE TRAMP g -- HE snow came down in fine white flakes, which gusts of wind beat against the faces of passing crowds and then whirled into door ways and corners of the large department stores. Tired horses slipped on the treacherous cobblestones, 3 Wifi 5 but were beaten and whipped by their drivers to go on with their drays and delivery wagons laden high with packages and bundles of every possible des- cription. Men, women and children wedged and elbowed their way, crossing the streets as far as the burly, red-faced policemen, then rushing on whenever the slightest chance presented itself, only to be lost again amid the clang of the street cars, the incess- ant noise of the elevated trains overhead and the harsh rumble of wagons. Some bore tired, worn-out aspects, some absorbed in deep plans and prospectsg some indifferentg some gay and happy- most of them desirous of seeing the gaily decorated store windows, and nearly all laden with mysterious packages. For it was the day before Christmas -in the heart of a great cityq Amid the hurrying, jostling crowd was a man, lean and lank, with old ragged clothes. Casual passers-by would have called him a tramp or beggar, but upon closely examining his emaciated face and looking deep into his great brown eyes, one could perceive he was not of the lower class, even if his outer aspect bespoke him as such. He wandered, with an unsteady walk past the shop win- dows, with their alluring displays, which his passionate, hungry eyes gazed at longingly, down towards the end of town where the cheaper stores and smaller eating houses were. As he was about to cross a wide, crowded street, the man in front of him dashed on ahead in order to get out ofthe way of a large delivery wagon, which was just rounding the corner. In doing so he lost his grip on one of his bundles and it fell with a crash to the pavement be- low. The crowd hurried on, but the man with the hungry eyes

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BASEBALL TEAM

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22 THE ARIEL had seen the episode. Waiting his chance, he picked up the package to give to the man who was hasting back in search of it. Upon feeling it he discovered it was china and had broke-n. A Sorry old pal, but I guess it's no good now, said the tramp handingiit to the eager, impatient man. Broken! the stranger repeated, Broken, and that was to be little Dot's Christmas present. I have no more money. Poor Dot! Oh! The last word was uttered with such an accent of anguish that the tramp looked up quickly, only to see the other man gaz- ing piteously at the broken fragments lying in his rough, toil- stained hand. The throng jostled past, but the two men on the street corner heeded it not. Dot! said the tramp. I once had a little girl named Dot-she-died. His voice broke as he spokex Here, putting his hand in his pocket, it's all I got, but take it pard and buy your Dot another present. The men clasped hands-and parted. The noise was deaf- ening, the snow was falling fast, it was growing colder, the crowds hurried on and the men were lost forever from each other. The next day there was great peace, rejoicing and happi- ness in the thousands of homes in the city, but on the last page of the newspaper was the small and insignificant item: A tramp found dead from cold and hunger on the door-step of R. Jones, Toymaker. No name, no clue, no money. , -Helen Young He looked a look, Then smiled a smile, She grinned a grin- They Walked awhile. -Selah