Grass Valley telegraph., 1853-10-06

like LlZZy Smith, ana Sne is only two wears
older than me, if she does dress fine; cause
Mr.. Pease says she will be just like old drum
ken Kate, one of these days. Oh, dear. now
there goes man and l did not cry hot corn,
what shall do?"
"Dol There, that is what you shall do,"
as we dashed the corn in the gutter go
home tell your mother you have sold it ALL
and here is the money"
"Wont that be lie; Sir? Mr.. Pease saws
we must not tell lies"
"No, my dear, that wont be lie, because
l have bought it and thrown it away, instead
of eating it."
"But, Sir, may I eat it then if you don't
want it Z"
"No, it is not good for you; good bread is
better, and here is a sixpence to buy loaf
and here is another to b1y some nice cakes
for you and Sis. Now, that is your money ;
IS.onlt givesit to your mother, andy dom stay
out so late again. Go home. earlier, and tell
your mother you cannot keep awake, and if
she is good mother she won't whip you"
"Oh, Sir, she is good mother sometimes.
But | am sure the grocery man at the corner
is not good man or he would not sell my
mother rum, when he knows-for Mr.. Pease
| told him so-that we poor children were star
like him, and then my mother would not
drink that nasty liquor and beat and starve
us, cause there would be nobody to sell her
any-and then we should have plenty to eat"
Away she ran down the street toward that
reeking center of filth, poverty and misery,
the noted Five Points of New York.
AS we plodded up Broadway, looking in
here and there upon the palatial splendors of
metronolitan saloons, I've think that is
the word for fashionable upper class grog-
shops-we almost involuntarily cried "hot
corn as we saw the hot spirit of that grain,
under the various guises of "pure gin"-
old rum pale brandyn-Ypure port''-
"Heidsick''- 'Lager-bier"- poured down
the hot throats of men-and ah, yes, of wo-
men, too, whose daughters may some day sit
at midnight upon the cold curbstone crying
"hot corn" to gain penny for the purchase
of a drink of the fiery dragon they are now
inviting to a home in their bosoms, whose cry
in after years will be "Give, "give, give"
and still as dnsatisfied as the horse-leach's
daughters.
Again, as we passed on up that street, still
busy and thronged at midnight, as country
village at midday intermission of church-ser-
vice, ever and anon from some side-street,
came up the cry of "hot corn-hot cOrn"
and everlas we heard it, and ever as we shall
through all years to come, we thought of that
little girl and her drunken mother, and the
bad man" at the corner grocery, and that
hers was the best, the strongest Maine Law
argument which had ever fallen upon our lis
tening ear.
Again, as we turned the corner of Spring
st., the glare and splendor of thousand gas
lights, and the glittering cut glass at that,
for the first time lighted-up bar room of the
Prescott House, so ladded by the Press for its
magnifcence, dashed our eyes and almost
blinded our senses to degree of imagination
that first class Hotels must have such Five
Point denizen-making appurtenances as this
glittering room, shamelessly inviting, open
to the street; when that watch-word cry, like
the pibroch's startling peal, came up from the
near vicinity, wailing like lost spirit on the
midnight air" Hot corn, hot corn-here's
your nice hot corn" smoking hot-hot-hot
corn."
Yes, yes! hear you cry-it is a watch
word-a glorious watch-word, that bids us
do or die-until the smoking, hot, fiefy-fur-
nace-like gates of hell, like this one now
yawning before us shall cease to be licensed
by a Christian people, to send delicate little
girls at midnight through the streets, crying
" Hot cofn," to support drunken mother,
whose first glass was taken in a fashionable
saloon, or first-clasS liquor selling hotel
Hot ccrn," then, be the watch-wofd of
all who would rather see the grain fed to the
drunkard's wife and children than into the
Unsuitable hot nav of the whisky still.
Let your resolutions grow hot and strong
every time you hear this midnight cry, that
you will devote, if nothing more
Three grains of corn, mother,
Only three grains of corn"
toward the salvation of the thousand equally
pitiable objects as the little girl, whose wall
ing cry has been the melting cause of this
present dish of " Hot Corn-smoking hot! i"
CHAPTER-U
THE HOME OF LITTLE KATY. ~
From the New York Daily Tribune of Auo 12