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Newspaper Page Text
A WANDERER'S STRANGE STORY OF HIS
' SEARCH FOR HIS WIFE
In Clark street, next door to the
Grand Opera House, is a saloon own
ed by one George S.' Lovelace that
typifies the Bohemian spirit of Chi
cago night life.
Into this place on New Year's eve,
when the bar was lined with attor
neys, actors and other men whose
appearance .bespoke prosperity, wan
dered "what was left of a man."
He was a strange contrast to the
light-hearted men that lined the bar.
His every step told of infinite weari
ness. He looked sadly out of place.
He crept rather than walked towards
Members of the party nearest him
eyed the wanderer with good-natured
sympathy. It seemed to hurt him.
"Happy New Year, stranger," one
of the party called out "Have a
The tired man drew three nickels
from his pocket and laid them on' the
bar. "No, thanks," he said, very low.
"I was just ordering one."
It was rather a surprise for the one
that extended the invitation. The
man, from his appearance, looked
like one of the many panhandlers
that work Clark street. And his po
lite refusal made him look so much
finer and bigger. The party at his
side stopped their jesting and paid
more attention to him. There was a
look in his eyes like that which comes
into the eyes of a splendid animal
that had been hurt by its master.
In some mysterious manner one of
the party, managed to draw him out
He probably needed some one to talk
to. And he told a strange story.
"I'm forty-five years old," he said.
"Oh, I know I look older. Four years
ago I made the mistake of falling in
love with a young girl. She was
twenty then. I was making $40 a
week in the electrical business In
Paterson, N. J.
"I bought a home before we were
married and afterward I thought we
were very happy. Then the1 baby
came, we " the man's head bent
low. There was a telltale huskiness
in his throat "but she died after
"And then he stepped in to inter
fere," the man's sad eyes blazed
fiercely, ''and my house of happiness
was wrecked. He was young. I
might have foreseen what would
have happened. But I trusted her. I
couldn't make myself believe that in
every case 'youth called to youth.'
I thought she was an exception.
"But it happened and on New
Year's eve, two years ago. I went
down to the stores to get a turkey
for the next day. We planned to
have some of her relatives from New
York city with us for dinner. When
I got back to the house I noticed the
light were out I thought it -was fun
ny. I went, in and called her. No
answer. Then I put on the lights. I
found it after a few minutes, it lay
on the table, a note that spelled the
ending of my real life: 'I'm so sorry,
Jim. I'm going away; for good. It
would have been different if thebaby
had lived. But I just can't any more.
The man paused in his story. The
tears welled threateningly in his
eyes. It seemed minutes and minutes
before he went on.
"I knew she had gone with him,"
he continued, "even though she
hadn't said so. I left a note for her
relatives, left the door open and went
out I have never been back since.
At the station I found that she had
gone with him. And so I went out
to the cemetery to bid goodbye to
my little girl.
"I swore I'd follow them until I
found them. I followed different wild
goose hunches. They brought me all
over the country. I landed in Chicago
ten days ago. I thought they were
here. The tip was wrong. And' so
I'm going on."