The Vampire.
After Painting by
SIR ED. BURNE-JONES
Verses by
RUDYARD KIPLING.
A fool there was and he made his prayer--
(Even as you and I.)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair--
(We called her the woman who did not care)
But the fool he called her his lady fair--
(Even as you and I.)
Oh, the years we waste and the tears we waste--
And the work of our head and hand
Belong to the woman who did not know--
(And now we know that she never could know)
And did not understand.
A fool there was and his goods he spent--
(Even as you and I.)
Honor and faith and a sure intent--
(And it wasn't the least what the lady meant)
But a fool must follow his natural bent
(Even as you and I.)
Oh, the toil we lost and the spoil we lost--
And the excellent things we planned
Belong to the woman who didn't know why--
(And now we know she never knew why)
And did not understand.
The fool was stripped to his foolish hide--
(Even as you and I.)
Which she might have seen when she threw him aside--
(But it isn't on record the lady tried)
So some of him lived but the most of him died--
(Even as you and I.)
But it isn't the shame, and it isn't the blame
That sting like a white hot brand--
It's coming to know that she never knew why--
(Seeing at last she could never know why)
And could never understand.
MIKE McDONALD.
"King of Gamblers," Supreme in His Day, Relentless
Nemesis of Old "Clark Street Gang," Brings
His Gray Hairs to Grave
With Broken Heart.
Rises From Newsboy to Gambling King and Becomes Millionaire.
Mike McDonald's career in Chicago has been spectacular and sensational
to a degree.
The present-day generation in Chicago cannot appreciate what the name
Michael C. McDonald meant twenty years ago in Chicago. There is not a
single man today in Chicago, or in any city in America who occupies
relatively the position that Mike McDonald did in the old days in
Chicago.
He never held office, but he ruled the city with an iron hand. He
named the men who were to be candidates for election; he elected them;
and then, after they were in office, they were merely his puppets.
While in recent years Michael C. McDonald has shown little activity
in Chicago political and sporting circles, living quietly at Drexel
boulevard and Forty-fifth street, in a costly mansion, his name twenty
years ago was a power in both.
Born in 1840 in Niagara county, New York, he came to Chicago in 1854
and was a newsboy with John R. Walsh and other pioneers, in the city's
infancy. Before the war a business venture took him to New Orleans,
and when the south began to become inflamed he returned to Chicago
with enough money to purchase the sample room of the Richmond House,
Michigan avenue and South Water street.
Here a spectacular career began. McDonald became the big gambler of
all the host of gamblers that were then growing rich in Chicago. He
also became one of the leaders in the democratic organization. He made
money hand over fist.
[Illustration: Michael C. McDonald's wheel of fortune, showing his
progress from bootblack to gambling king, and the woman's face that
brought him to the tragic present, causing him to exclaim: "My riches
have brought me only sorrow."]