Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1852-12-23
SCENES AMONG THE POOR OF n. YORK,
aWith fingers weary and worn
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sits IN unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread"

The New York Daily Times has the fol-
lowing pictures of virtuous misery which,
are worthy of reflection
My companion was Mr.. Pease, the Mis-
sionary, and as he knew the ground better,
/ let him lead, keeping as close behind him
as possible, and it must be confessed, grasp
ing my cane with feeling of some satisfac-
ton. AS we CROPPED along the dark passage,
a door opened occasionally, and lights
cleaned out, and haggard, filthy faces
looked at us, but with no especial curiosity,
for no one knows or cares for any one else
in these great roockeries.
At length, as we turned the angle we
found ourselves in more light, and an open
door showed crowd of low woman in a
small dirty room, gathered in great glee
around some poor fellow they were plucking.
Scarcely glancing in, we passed, and in the
next room, at the door, there stood two or
three dirty children. Something in the ex-
preston of one-perhaps a lock of such
sad want-struck me that l involuntarily
stopped, and the children rushed forward,
recognizing Mr.. Pease and chung to his
hand most afectionately. Hardly stopping
he turned down another stairway, led me
going on few steps, knocked at the door
of a room. 1t was opened at once, and we
were welcomed by a nice young Irish girl.
The place looked neat-there was table
cloth on the table, with candle burning in
the centre-and the floor and hearth well
swept.
In one corner was a large bed with three
children. The air was very damp in the
room, and rank with oders from without
This young girl and her mother occupied
the room. Her mother was out. Mr..
p. fell at once into conversation with
her, after some talk he asked her. ''What
she was working at now % ''Plain check
shirts, SIR she said showing them to
us. 'What did she get for them 90 s.Ten
cents apiece" she replied. GLOW many
can you do in a day? ''Two, and some
times three, if [ begin at six and work till
late at night" ''You do other work ?" ooh,
yes sir, pantaloons- I get two shillings
for them, and sometime three and six by
the day; and dress making beside-though
[ don't often get that What l do, can
earn dollar a day. You know it wont do
to wait for work. must take what comes,
and ladies don't like to put fine work in
such places, and so take them Shirts
$50, all you make with them, is twenty
to thirty cents day %
eyes sir''
''Ain't you afraid of falling behind-with
your rent and eyerything!"
ooh no, sir-it always comes out right"
"Iou did much better with me, Jane
what did you use to earn at my work ?''
"About six shillings, sir"
"Well, come over to the house to-mor-
row, and can give you some more work %
And after little more talk we bid her good
night.
The girl was not more than twenty two
years old-with fresh, cheerful, healthful
face, which it did one good to look upon
L cannot i'll any way convey the healthy,
hopeful tone With which she spoke of her
meagre wages, and the chances of work,
though none knew better than she, in that
foul neigl ',orhood, the terrible alternative. if
she did fall behind hand. She was not of the
best class of seamstresses; yet there was to
me IN her clear, hearty look, and her neat
dress, and her whole bearing, purity which
contrasted singularly with her vile quarters
MIR. Pease says he has known her for
years, and there is not a more virtuous girl
in the city. AS l made my way out of the
fifty den, 1 could not but think of how diff.
ferently she might be living, if she had cho-
sen anything but an honest life. The virtue
that holds out in such places, must be
worth something
Our next visit was to a needle-woman of
rather better class. The house was in an
alley leading out of Pearl street. We entered
1t by stairway on the back side, and it
seemed to me, wound about through some
half dozen passages, and up and down half
dozen stairways, before we reached the
room. Each room that we passed, appear
ed to have separate family in tin one,
quiet working people, cooking their supper;
IN another company of coarsely talking
woman, putting on 6nery for their evening
walks through the streets, in another, some
desperate looking men, whom one would
rather not meet in a lonely alley of dark
night, and who glanced at US suspiciously
as we passed by. In general, however, we
were not noticed.
The seamstress opens the door at our rap,
and meets Mr.. P. in very friendly manner.
We are invited in, and chairs placed for us,
and she introduces her aunt, with whom she