The Jeffersonian. [volume] (Stroudsburg, Pa.) 1853-1911, 1853-09-15

! Iired-worn with the daily toil--for
such is the work of an editor who caters
for the appetites of his morning readers
we were not present the next night to
note the absence of that cry from its ac-
customed spot; but the next, and next,
and still on we listened in vain. True
the same hot cry, came floating upon the
evening breeze across the park, or worm
ed its way from some cracked fiddle voice
down the street, up and around the corn
er; or out of some dark alley with brok-
en- English accent, that sounded almost
as much like "lager bier" as it did like
the commodity the immigrant, struggling
to exc out his precarious existence, wish
ed to sell. All over this great proverty
burdeped, and waste extravagant City, at
this season, that cry goes up, nightly
proclamating one of the habits of this late
supper eating people.
Yes we missed that cry. "Hot corn"
was no longer like the music of Il stringed
instrument to q weary man, for the treble
string was broken, and, to US, the harmo-
ny spoiled.
What was that voice to US? It was
but one of the ten thousand, just as mis-
erable, which may be daily heard where
human misery has its abode. That voice
as some others have, did not haunt US,
but its absence in spite of all reasoning,
made us feel uneasy. We do not believe
in spiritual manifestations half as strong
ly as some of the nincompoops of this
world would have their long cared listen
ers think, yet We do believe there is q
spirit in man, not yet made manifest,
which makes US yearn after co-e1isting
spirits in this sphere and in this life, and
that there is no need of going beyond it,
seeking after strange idols.
We shall not stop to inquire whether it
was spirit of the "frst, third or sixth
sphere" that prompted US as We left our
desk one evening, to 60 down among the
abodes of the poor, with a feeling of GER
tainty that we should see or hear some
thing of the lost voice, for that spirit
led US on; perhaps it was the spirit of
curiosity; no matter, it led, and we fol-
lowed in the route we had seen that little
one 60 before it was our on! y cue--we
know no name---had no number, nor knew
no one that knew her whom We were 90
ing to find. Yes, we knew that good
Missionary, and she had told Us of the
good words which he had spoken, but
would he know her from the hundreds
just like her? Perhaps. 1t will cost
nothing to inquire. We went down Cen.
tre-st, with light heart; we turned into
Cross-st., with step buoyed by hope; we
stood at the corner of Little Water-st.
and looked round inquiringly of the spirit
and mentally said, (Which way now!"-
The answer was far-of scream of de-
spair. We stood still with an open ear,
for the sound of prayer, followed by a
sweet hymn of praise to God, went ur
from the site of the old Brewery, in which
we joined, thankful that that was no Ion.
ger the abode of all the worst crimes ever
concentrated under one roof. Hark, {
step approaches. Our unseen guide
whispered task him" Itwere curious
question to ask stranger, in a strange
place, particularly one like him, haggard
with over much care, toll or mental labor
Prematurely old, his days shortened BY
over work in young years, as his furrow
: ed face and almost phrensied eye hurried
ly indicates, as we see the flash of th'
lamp upon his dark visage, as he ap
proaches with that peculiar American
step which impels the body forward a
, railroad speed. Shall We get out of hi
: way before he walks over us? What
, he is a crazy man? No; the spirit wa
, right---no false raps here. 1t is tha
good Missionary. That man who ha
{ done more to reform that den of crime
t the Five Points of New York, than al
: the Municipal Authorities of this Polio
S hunting, and Prison Furnishing City,wher
? misfortune is deemed crime, or the un
' fortunate driven to it, by the way the
are treated, instead of being reformed, o
strengthened in their resolution to reform
a by hard words rather than Prison Bars
r "Sir," said Mr.. Pease, "what brings 20
= here at this time of night, for | kno1
t there is an object; can l help you!"
I "Perhaps, l don't know---a foolis
a Wilma little child---one of the misera
!. BILE, with drunken mother"
"Come with me, then. There are ma
: ny SUCH l am just going to visit on
t who will die before morning-a "a sweet lii
f tie girl, born in better days, and dyin
f now--but you shall see, and then we wi
talk about the one you would seek
save"
We were threading narrow alley
!. where pestilence walketh in darkness, an
d crime, wretched poverty and filthy miser
q 90 hand in hand to destruction.
? "Behold," said our friend, "the fruit
q of our City excise. Here the profit of MOI
o ey spent for license to kill the body an
. damn the soul" Proven by the awf
Il curses and loud blows of drunken hu:
d band upon a wife, once an ornament
il society, and exemplary member OF
: Christian Church, that came up out of tt