Ballad of the Beggar

While strolling down the street one night

     To while away the time,

A rough-clad fellow sidled up

     And asked me for a dime.

“Ol’ chap,” said he, “I’m in it hard,

     I’m nearly starved, dat’s right;

Jes’ drop me in a single dime

     So I can get a bite.”

I looked him squarely in the eye,

     And hesitated long,

While we were jostled back and forth

     Amidst the merry throng.

“Perhaps you think I want a drink,”

     Said he, beneath his breath,

“But tell yer straight ol’ pal,” said he,

     I’m starved a-most to death.”

And so I parted with the dime,

     And he went on his way;

I followed shortly through the crowd,

     To see where he would stray.

I had my doubts, as most men have,

     An’ e’er he’s journeyed far

He dodged into a big saloon,

     And strode up to the bar.

I saw him gulp his cherished drink,

     As only drunkards can;

I went again into the street

     A sadder, wiser man.

Out in the park, to be alone

     I strolled quite aimlessly;

And soon another specimen

     Of beggar halted me.

“Please sir,” said he, “will you be good

     Enough to help me out?

I’ve looked for work, I’ve asked for food,

     I’m starved sir, just about.

A nickel sir, to buy some food

     To keep me on my feet;

I’ve walked the streets here all day long,

     Without a bite to eat.”

In scorn I looked the fellow o’er,

     And brusquely turned away.

“Forget it pard,” said I, “for I’ve

     Been stung before today.”

He gave a look of wild despair,

     And clasped his sunken brow;

Then staggered down the graveled walk,

     He knew not where or how.

His whitened face and lanky frame

     Rose pity in my breast;

I followed him a little way,

     My heart filled with unrest.

He halted strangers here and there

     But all refused him aid;

The while he staggered through the night,

     Discouraged and dismayed.

He wandered aimlessly about

     Like one in deep despair;

And with increasing interest

     I tagged him here and there.

“A worthy soul,” I slowly mused,

     “His plight is a disgrace”;

I grasped a bill and circled round

     To meet him face to face.

When I approached he prostrate lay

     Upon the sandy walk;

His heart was beating faintly yet,

     But he could move nor talk.

I sought assistance, he was borne

     Off to a city bed.

“Poor chap was simply starved to death,”

     The doctor sadly said.

Oct. 15, ‘09