The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1853-04-25
THE DAILY DISPATCH
Monday Morning. April 2s, 1859.
F'om the London Leader, April Q.
A STORY OLA nREsS

South | was looking at the Palace of the
k'ngs-not al oil equal to the White House,
which is open TO every citizen-and il was there
that sight struck me which was not quite
pleasant for one of Uncle Sans nephews. A
oevy oil fair ladies were leaving a great house,
with crowd offolks looking at them, and po.
lice to keep order. The ladies had been at
tending meeting to sympathize with Cncie
fom-that benighted and InaunderIng old
nisger, whose jargon helps TO prevent our real
statesmen FROM making the men Of the South
even listen TO reason. The poor ladies, low.
ever, looked more fit for ball or a morning
| concert than for any political work in earnest;
and their coun,enalces were guilty of nothing
| worse than little holiday hustle newly spIiced
with black pepper.
But something was TO happen besides this
"Uncle Tomere." la the crowd saw young
couple who were waiting out Of more than
| mere curiosity. You could see that by the eye
| OF the girl. The young man also watched the
| ladies as they came out, but evidently his
care was the girl. At last a lady issued
| from the door-a tall, handsome woman, with
fine aristocratic features, bold ct delicate a
very voluptuous countenance, it the sensuous
look had net been rendered harsh by a slight
| habitual sneer of scorn, very common with
English people OF "high birth," her face being
also. It II is not rude to say 80 little hardened
by time. She must have been a glorious
| creature, and she looked to think herself still
so. She was in no hurry-haste would have
spoiled her costume. | wish could describe
| il, but that would need less republican pen
| than mine. Her noble throat rose out of q
wide expanse of delicate and brilliant silk,
| soitened with large white shawl and va.
| riety OF lace, or whatever else il was; but the
taste OF arrangement disposed the mass of soft
strips so as to display, and not to disguise, the
grace OF her tall and rather slender figure.
| That gown" said | TO the young man, "cost
more in the making than in the stuff
ut might IN your country" he answered.
| turning round sharp TO look at me-thongh |
did not know that had any peculiar accent
"but in this country the labor is the least part
OF the cost, except 10 the laborer." He had
an accent not quite English.
What have all these fair ladies been doing,
sir?" | asked.
Meeting about Uncle Tom," said he. 81
wish they would look TO the slaves in their own
counuy."
We don't get up abolition meetings for
the whl,e niggers of Manchester, sir" said /.
'No," said he; Il wish you did. But Man.
chester is not our South. There are worse
places than that not so far off,"
| The fine lady came down the steps, and then
| the young woman, who had not attended at all
10 US; stepp' los e to the lady and spoke to her
| A policeman came forward to remove the girl:
| and my blood boiled to see fellow in glazed
| hat attempt to touch female but the lady
herself stopped him with wave of her hand.
The girl repeated what she said, but did not
hear it. The lady looked-not surprised. she
was too proud for that, but unbelieving. The
girl again spoke and the lady again replied:
and then the lady motion ed to the girl to get
into her carriage. They both got in; and af
ter few words to the footman-a fine gentle.
man, in lovely, delicate, blue coat, with white
gloves, and cheeks like girl's-the carriag age
drove off.
The young man looked for an instant into
| my face, and then asked me if could rum
Without reply, joined him 10 following the
| carriage. We ran barely mile, and then we
arrived at the door of poor house, in small
street, before the carriage. The young man
| followed the woman, and followed him, no.
| body stopping me, | suppose, because | did
not look as if expected they would. A selse
| OF silence came over US as we went up siair,,
and the rustlng of the fire lady's dress was
| the loudest noise as We crept up. We all en-
tered small room, and as we did so a child
began TO cry. The young woman took il from
another who held il, TO suckle it, and So to sta y
the little voice which disturbed the quiet room
| with its healthy discomfort.
The silence lay thickest at the further end
on narrow, white bed, which the lady ap.
| preached, and gaZed upon. On it lay young
woman, but partially addressed, CHASTITY pale,
with her eyes closed. By her side, with its
head pillowed on the arm that partly clasped
it, lay little child like its mother in pale
ness, like her in its closed eyes, but unlike her,
| whose breath was scarcely heard, in its short
and painful breathing, which would ha se been
loud had it not sunk TO the hurried whisper of
departing life.
we oil gaZed tor minute in silence and in
reverence for mortal suffering, which calls alike
| republican and aristocratic, rich and poor, to
| account. The lady looked at the sick woman
and then at the dark-eyed young girl who had
brought her, and who kept her eyes fixed on
the lady: the proud woman's look seemed to
ask why she had been brought there.
'Jessy wished me to fetch you," cried the
happier mother, for she could noursh and quiet
her child. | noticed that there was no ring
upon her finger, however.
"Poor thing! But would have assisted
her without" - and the lady put her hand
into her pocket for her purse.
mo, IT is too late for that. You must do
something else for her, and yea are bound
you are doubly bound"
Again the lady's proud eyes looked ques-
ton. There was no fear in her face, but her
glance round implied challenge of the right
TO keep her there.
II was tUuf
il was yours that brought her so near DEATH
Yes, Lady Julia, do not mean to offend you,
but you ought TO know the truth-such as you
oughtto knew it. That is beautiful dres s
you have on. very beautiful,far too beautiful for
poor Jessy to wear. But when did you order
II? Was there time for human hands TO make
il before you must have it, for this very day :?
And who set the finish to that beautiful dress?
Whose aching fingers put the last work into
IL? Jessy's, there; and when l took it from
her last night, she lay down to die !"
The proud lady was silent; her eyes bent
upon the dying woman without retorf, and her
naughty featuI es sofiened to gaze of refisc-
ling sorrow; for these English women hare
hearts in their bosoms, naughty and cold as
they seem m-at least some have. Suddenly the
iadys manner altered, as il she threw off some
mantle OF pride and restraint, and turning once
more TO the girl who brought her, with a low +,
| simple direct way OF speaking, she said -
And what can be done now?"
Que thIng-to let pride of luxury come
| nho 90 homage TO want and misery, when
DEAN raises the lowiy above the high"
Il have done that.''
"Next, TO bring justice aud consolation to
| parting lite. On that bed lies, half conscious.
the poor seamiress who died al her needle-it
is q common end enough. But that same wo.
mRQ--nnf half YAM 49,