Wisconsin tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1847-1854, 1853-09-08
sEQEL To TIE ABOVE.

The next night after the interview with
that neglected, illused little girl, the same
plaintive cry of .Hot-corn, hot corn, here
is your nice hot corn" came UP through
our open window, on the midnight AIR,
while the rain came dripping down from
the overcharged clouds in Just sufficient
quantity to wet the thin single garment
of the owner of that sweet young voice.
without giving her an acceptable excuse
for leaving her post before her hard task
was completed At length the voice grew
faint, and then ceased, and then we knew
that exhausted nature slept-that ten
der house plant was exposed to the chill
ling influence Of a night rain-that an in
noceut little girl had the curb stone for a
bed and an iron post for pillow-that
by and by she would awaken, not inyigO-
rated with refreshing slumber, but poison
ed with the sleep inhaled miasma of
the filth reeking gutter at her feet, which
may be breathed with impunity when
awake, but like the malaria of our South
ern coast, is death to the sleeper. Not
soothed by a dreamy consciousness of
hearing mothers voice, tuning the soft
lullaby of
Hush, my child, lie still and slumber =
but starting like n sentinel upon a savage
frontier post, with alarm at having slept ;
shivering with night air and fear, and f.
like culprit, to hear the hard words of
mother-yes a mother-but Oh what a
mother--cursing her for not performing
an impossibility, because exhausted ma
ture slept-because her child had not
made profit which would have enabled
her more freely to indulge in the soul
and body destroying vice of drunkenness,
to which she had fallen from an estate
when my carriage, was one of the house
hold words which used to greet the young
( ears of that poor little death stricken
neglected street sufferer.
I 1t was past midnight when she awoke,
aud found herself with a desperate effort
Just able to reach the bottom of the rick
ETY. stairs which led to her h0nze- We
shall not 20 up now In a little while.
reader, you shall see where live the City
poor.
Tired-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,
aud still on we listened in vain--that
voice was not there. True the same hot
corn cry, came floating upon the evening
breeze across the park, or wormed its
way from some cracked fiddle voice down
the street, up and around the corner or
out Of some dark alley with broken En-
gIish accent, that sounded almost as much
ike ':lager BIER as it did like the com
modify the immigrant, struggling to exc
out his prccarious existence, wished to
( sell All over this great poverty burden
+ ed and wicked waste extravagant City, at
/ this season, that cry goes UP, nightly pro
claiming one Of the habits Of this late
/ supper eating people.
Yes, we missed that cry. slot corn
was no longer like the music Of string
I ed instrument to weary man, for the
treble-string was broken, and, to Us, the
harmony spoiled.
/ What was that voice to US ? 1t was
+ but one of the ten thousand, just as miseT
able, which may be daily heard where bu
man misery has its abode. That voice