The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-01-26
For the National Era.
THE GRINDING HEEL.

Have you ever seen the blushing petal of 4
rose, crushed, and bruised beneath some heed
less foot! Have you seen the pale and delicate
lily trampled and soiled in the dust And has
your fancy ever endowed these emblems Of
dwellings with thought and feelingl Have you
sympathized with their fancied suffering-with
their death-agony? Did you see in those fair
flowers the freshness and beauty of youth.
and in the heel that bruised their tinv veins
and vessels, and forced the sap Of life out of
them, the hard heel of poverty grinding and
torturing the very life blood from the breaking
hearts of its victims Did you see all this, and
did your mind travel from the realms of fancy,
to the rough and thorny path of being strug-
Cling for a mere existence! Did you see " the
life crushed from out a young heart, and hear
choking signs" and agonizng sobs till the
fair blushing maiden is changed into the thin.
pale, anxious care-worn woman2 Did Won see
her Elother-her husband a drunkardl
Did you see her, weak and trembling. toiling
YEARLY up one flight of stairs, and another.
and another, aud still another and another. u
that small attic chamber Did you see her
unlock the door and enter Her children are
there-they have no nurse many long and
weary hours in the day they are alons-all
alone-no eye to watch them but God's-that
babe Of less than three summers, and that in
FAINT of but few more months Their mother
cannot be with them, for she must be away,
earning the bread which is to keep them from
starving in that cherries garnet No wonder
her checks have grown thin and sslloW-nO
wonder that eye Is dim and sunkeD and those
fingers long and lean. She cannot, with all
her labor, procure the nourishing food she re
quires, and she stints herself as she cats the
stale loaf that the dear babes may not perish
with hunger.
| knew this mother, when she was young and
blooming, before stern poverty had placed his
iron heel upon her. and ground her steadily
and firmly into the dust knew her. when
her cheeks were rosy with health, and her ewes
bright, and joyOus-when her foot trod lightly
and care was given to the winds In an evi
hour she married q man of violent temper. who
Stocked upon the wine when it was red" and
loved it more than wife or child. He deserted
her whom he had promised to cherish, and
the little ones who needed his fostering care,
and here they are in this crowded attic-One
room all their hOme-what homeI 1t is neat
and tidy; but how hard that bed, how slight
the covering, how poor indeed all the furni-
ture, and how little Of it! Ii is almost impos-
sible to pay the rent of that single room, and
yet it must be done. The landlord is inexor-
able, and if it is not punctually paid these SUI
fering ones have the street for their shelter
blue sky the only roof above them
The Iron Heel is upon them, grinding, grind
ing, grinding their very hearts, and they arc
breaking, and bleeding, and yielding up their
life, as the rose petal and the lily yielded
theirs.
Maiden, when you plight your troth, renem-
Der the crushed flower. Wine and poverty are
near akin. ANNA Horn.