HERMIT’S QUEER HOARD

Manawatu Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 2308, 28 November 1925, Page 13

HERMIT’S QUEER HOARD

MUCH GOLD AND CIGARS. A fortune of more than £2OOO in gold, notes, and securities was lately Jiscovered 'in the house of David Jones, a well-to-do recluse in London, who feigned the direst poverty and died practically of starvation. The old man, who was 75 years of age, was a milkman and teashop proprietor in Farringdon Street, E.C. At the inquest it was shown that he had a stock of expensive cigars and a current banking account with more than £IOOO to his credit. The post-mortem examination revealed that Jones was emaciated and badly nourished. A vei-dict of “Death from natural causes’’ was returned. David Jones, imperious in his bearing, upright os a sapling, and industrious until the day of his sudden death, was a mystery figure in Farringdon Street. Without warning, he renounced the world. This strange old man of the sealed lips, who never spoke of his early life in London or Tregarron, Cardiganshire, was known to the entire neighbourhood, but none suspected that behind the cloak of poverty was hidden wealth. Jones had one passion in his life; he was devoted to music. In the privacy of his room ho poured out his soul at his piano. Once he was accounted a pianist genius. Neighbours unlearned in the ways of classical music, but responsive to its appeal, wiould hear the stupendous chords of Beethoven, or the liquod notes of a Chopin waltz. Towards the end, however, even the piano remained untouched. It is said that a great disappointment over some matter musical, made the„ old man silence his piano, never to wake it into life again. The old man was a bachelor and owned to no relatives with the exception of a nephew,, who has not been tx-aced, until the day of his death. The only person present when the end came was a woman, the wife of a fel-low-Welshman, his friend. His sister, believed to be dead, posed for the Statue of Science, which stands -on the Holborn Viaduct. The room in which Jones died, after an obstinate refusal to see a doctor had been finally overcome, bore every evidence of extreme poverty and neglect. The bedclothes of his rickety bed were tattered and worn, and in the last stages of decay. Th e furniture was dilapidated and falling to pieces. The forsaken piano was covered with the grime of years. The closing scene was tragic. The woman visitor, who had taken pity on his great loneliness, and helplessness, asked if ho would like some tea-and toast. He consented. It was prepared and taken to him. Ho smiled his gratitude, and ate and drank ravenously. Soon afterwards he died.