Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1850-1854, 1853-09-09
Hot Corn.---0r life in the City
CHAPTER II.
Tie home Of Little Katy.

E
About week ago we published little
story under this title, detailing some of
the suherings which crime and misery
upon the poor of this City, and limited at
the cause. That story is not finished
The next night after the interview with
that neglected, i'll used little girl, the same
plaintive cry O" Hot corn, hot corn, here
your nice hot corn" came up through our
open window, on the midnight air, while
the rain capne dropping down from the over
charged clouds IN Just sufficient quantities
to wet the thin single garment of the own
er of that sweet young voice, without Civ
ipg her an acceptable excuse for leaving
her post before her hard task was compile
ted At length the voice grew faint, and
then ceased, and then we knew that cy-
hausted nature Slept-that a tender house
plant was exposed to the chilling influence
ola night rain-that an innocent little girl
had the curb- stone for bed and an iron
post for pillow-that by and by she
would awaken not invigorated with refresh
ing slumber, but poisoned with the sleep
inhaled miasma Of the dlthrecking gutter
at her feet, which may be breathed with
impunitv awake, but like the malaria of
our Southern coast, is death to the Sleep
cr. Not soothed by a dreamy conscious
ness of hearing a mothers Voice, tuning
the soft lullaby of
@Hush my child. lie still in slumber."
but starting like sentinel upon a savage
frontier post, with alarm at having slept +;
Shivering with night air and fear, and fl
nallv compelled to 90 home trembling like
Il culpit, 10 hear the hard words ola moth
--cursing her for not performing an i'm
possibility. because exhausted nature slept
because her child had not made profit
which would have enabled her more free
" to indulge in the soul and body destroy
mo vice of drunkenness, 10 which she had
fallen from an estate, when my carriage,
was one of the household words which
used to greet the young ears OF that poor
little death stricken neglected street suffer
cr.
1t was past midnight when she awokc,
and found herself with desperate effort
just able to reach the bottom of the ricketty
stairs which led to her home. We shall
not 90 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 appctites ofhis morning readers
we were not present the next night 10 note
the absence of that cry from its accustom
ed spot but the next, and next, and still
on we listened in vain---that voice was
not there True the same hot-com cry,
came floating uTon the evening breeze a
cross the park, or wornled its way from
some cracked fiddle voice down the street
up and around the corner; or out Of seme
dark alley with broken English accent,
that sounded almost as much like Eager
bier" as 1t did like the commodity the inn
migrant, struggling to exc out his preeari
Gus existence, wished To sell All over this
great poverty burdened and wicked waste
extravagant City, at this season, that cry
goes up, nightly proclaiming one Of the
habits of this late supper eating people
Yes. we missed that cry. Hoo corn
was no longer like the music of stIir ged
instrument to a weary man, for the trebble
string was broken, and to us, the harmony
spoiled,
What was that voice to us 1t was bot
one Of the ten thousands, Just as miserable,
which may be daily heard where human
misery has It's abode. That voice, as some
others haze, did not haunt us, but its alb
Sence, IN spite of an reasoning, made us
feel uneasy. We do not believe in spirit
manifestations half as strongly as some OF
the nincQmpoos of this world would have
their. long cared listeners think, vet we do
believe there is spirit inman, not yet made
manifest, which makes us yean after cock