POET HITT’S TERRIBLE TRAMP.To Start for San Francisco Afoot fromtlie Big Bridge.Now York Journal.A well-built man, apparently about 40 years of age, who wore a blackfoatee and a wide brimmed cowboy at, sat in the office of Richard IC. Fox the other afternoon. He was Adrian Hitt, the poetical pedestrian, who was to start at 3 p. m. in an endeavor to walk to San Francisco.William E. Harding, Mr. Fox, and other sporting men sat around and encouraged the venturesome poet with tales of men who had been scalped while crossing the plains, and peaes-trians who hod died from sunstroke and starvation in the wild woods, through which a part of Mr. Hitt’s route lies.“You cant scare me, boys, with your ghost stories,” remarked the rhyming walker. “I’ll get there if it takes me ten years.”“Have you any record as a pedestrian?” asked a Journal reporter.“Yes,” replied Mr. Hitt. I have walked a thousand miles in Texas in less than a week. Besides, I have a well established pedestrian reputation in the west. I am ,one of the greatest poets this country has ever produced. See this.” 'Mr. Hitt handed.the reporter a small volume of poems, on the cover, of which was a picture of a man walking at a twonty-milean-liour pace, and the legend, “Ireland forever; England no, never. From the brain, pen and pencil of Adrian Hitt,” printed on the cover. The volume was interspersed with crude drawings evidently whit tied out of a shingle,and representing Mr. Hitt walking all the way from five to fifty miles an hour.“Let me read you a sample verse,” said he, and before his auditors could stop him he sang:Oh, if you will but rend this book 1 know you won't be cross,And ovor tlio money you paid for it,You'll never mourn its lo*« .This is no common book of prose,The oftener you rend it the richer it grows.of*When you look at it you'll say its profound, The longer you read it, the better it'll sound,The poet was seized before lie could recite the 118 other verses,and he continued:“I shall walk over the roughest route I can pick out, mountains preferred. I expect to make fifty miles a. day, and will telegraph Richard K. Fox every night from my stopping place.”“Don’t send them collect,” interjected Mr. Harding.“I shall carry no provisions, but will have plenty of money to buy whatever I need. I think I can reacli San Francisco inside of a year.”“If you walk as well as you write you’ll reach there in three months,” said Mr. Fox.This pleased the poet, who presented each auditor with a copy of his work, “The New Shakspeare.” and then retired to secure some needed rest.William E. Harding was asked whether Hitt would really undertake the proposed task, to which he replied: ^“He is sincere in his statements, and informed me that some unknown person has offered him a purse of $2,000 to attempt the feat. I have no doubt ho will start off to-morrow, if he only goes as far as the Jersey City