Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1853-09-28

orlpplng DOWN from the over charged
clouds in just sufficient quantity to wet
the ,hin 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 it grew faint, and then cea-
sed, and then we knew that exhausted
nature slept-that tender house plant
was exposed to the chilling influence Of
a night rain-that an innocent little girl
had the curb-stone for bed and an j.
ron post for a pillow-that by and by
she would awaken, not invigorated with
refreshing slumber, but poisoned with
the sleep inhaled miasma of the filth rec
king gutter at her feet, which may be
breathed with IMMUNITY when awake,
but like the malaria of our Southern
coast, is death to the sleeper. Not
sootked by dreamy consciousness of
hearing mothers voice, turning the
soft lullaby Of
"Hush my child, lie still and slumber $"
but starting like sentinel upon a saw
age frontier post, with alarm at having
slept; shivering with night air and fear,
and finally compelled to 60 home trem-
bling like culprit, to hear the hard
words of mother-yes mother-but
Oh! what a understanding her for
not performing an impossibility, because
exhausted nature 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 "household words" which
used to greet the young ears of tina
poor little death-stricken neglecte
street sufferer.
1t twas past midnight when she awoke,
and found herself with a desperate effort
Just able to reach the bottem of the
rickety stairs which led to her home
We shall not 60 up now. In 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 ca
tiers for the appetitss of his morning
readers-we were not present the next
night to note the absence of that cry
from its accustomed spot but the next,
and next, and still on we listened in
vain-that voice was not there. True
the same hot-corn cry, came floating up
on the evening breeze across the park,
wormed its way from some cracked fid-
die voice down the street, up and a.
round the corner; or out of some dark
alley with broken English accent, that
sounded almost as much like "fager
bier' as it did like the commodity the
immigrant, struggling to exc out his
existence. wished to sell. All over this
great poverty burdened, and wicke d
waste extrayagant 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. eliot corn''
was no longer like the music of strin-
|ged 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 mi
SCRABBLE, 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 dc
not believe in spirit manifestations hall
as strongly as some Of the nincompoops
of this world would have their long ear
ed listeners think, yet we do believe
there is spirit in man, not yet made
manifest, which makes us yearn after
coexlsting spirits in this sphere and in
this life, and there is no need of going
beyond it, seeking after strange idols.
We shall not stop to inquire whether
it was a spirit of "the first, third OF
sixth sphere" that prompted us as we
left our desk one evening, to 90 down a.
mong the abodes of the poor, with a
feeling of certainty that we should see
or hear something of the lost voice, for
that spirit lead US on perhaps it was
the spirit of curiosity; no matter, il
lead, and we followed in the route we
had seen that little one go before-it
was our only one-we knew no name
had no number, nor knew no one that
knew her whom we were going to find.
Yes, we knew that good Missionary
and she had told us Of the good words
which he had spoken, but would he
knew her from the hundred Just like
her? Perhaps. 1t will cost nothing to
inquire. We went down Centre-st.
with a 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, switch way
now?" The answer was a far-off
scream Of despair. We stood still with
open ear, for the sound of prayer, fol-
lowed by sweet hymn Of praise to
God, went up from the site of the Old
Brewery, in which we Joined, thank
full that that was no longer the abode Of
all the worst crimes ever concentrated
under one roof. Hark, step approa-
ches. Our unseen guide whispe
"ask him." 1t were curious question
to ask stranger particularly on like
him, haggard with over much care, toll
or mental labor. Prenaturely old, his
days shortened by over-work in young
wears as his furrowed faos and eI-ost