Only two minutes slow
I was walking along the street the other day when a tramp walked up and touched me on the arm. He said: “Pardon me, but I have seen better days.” I said: “So have I. I can remember back when such awful weather as this was unknown.”
A tramp touched me on the arm
I said: “So long,” and started to walk away, but little Willie was right there. “Excuse me,” he said, “but will you give me five cents for a bite to eat?” I said: “A bite! what good is a bite? If you had a meal for sale I might talk business to you.”
Of all the narrow escapes from death I ever witnessed I think the one that I saw to-day was nothing short of a miracle. I was walking along Broadway [substitute local street] when my attention was attracted to a man standing on a scaffold painting an advertising sign on the fourth story of a building. It made me feel dizzy to look up at him. He worked away, seemingly unconscious of his dangerous position.
Suddenly I noticed him stagger; he made a grab for one of the ropes to protect himself, but missed it. I closed my eyes in horror as I saw him fall—the blood seemed to freeze in my very veins—I felt faint.