The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1856-11-06
For the National Era.
THE YOUNG MAN
WHO WENT TO TOWN TO LIVE
A STORY, BY ALICE CAREY.

Our story takes us to one of the struggling
villages that oozed and smoked and blackened
on the outskirts of a beautiful city, THAT shall
be nameless,) some six or eight years ago.
What changes have since been wrought or
what mire cleaner tide of population may
have swept away, L know not; but there was
much to hope for at the time our story closes.
Ten O'Clock rung out from the brazen throat
of great bell in the neighboring city, and
the few lamps along the dirty and wretched
moist flakes of snow, that became soiled by the
murky atmosphere, even before they touched
the ground. No moon nor star shone between
the clouds, and the few persons out in the storm
(mostly men employed IN the soap factories
tallowch andleries, and slaughter yards) have
for the ground is soggy, and there is only a
square yard or two of solid pavement here and
there, before some better house than the rest.
A good many of these men nigh have been seen,
in pairs and half dozens, with pantaloons tucked
in the tops of heavy boots, some with greasy
checked shirts, and some with shirts that at
some remote period might have been white,
and all, or nearly all, mores the pity, STOPPING
under the pressure of hopeless and simless
degradation. A coarse jest, or senseless laugh,
sometimes broke over the general grumble of
voices, as some unwary plodder measured with
his tired legs the depth of some sloppy mud
hole, or q curse, all the more melancholy for
the dead, psssionless tone in which it was pro-
nounced, went out into the dark, to meet what
judgment only Heaven knows. Here and
there, in this wretched string of workers that
WEAKNESS was winding up into sheds and novels,
where dirty beds and unwomanly women wait
ed, might have been seen one who had made
poor attempt to ornament his face with q
beard but it seemed ashamed, and tangled
itself together, as if it would gladly be out of
sight Rows of steep wooden steps, some of
them going up to second and third stories, and
others down into cellars, oresk ana crack at
intervals, and one goes forward alone where a
pair have previously walked, but no goodnight
is spoken, and no good wishes exchanged.
We will not follow, to shove open the doors,
and see the Wild crop of children that have
sprouted up in that bad ground, sprouted and
grown, am afraid, to gather with rniidey and
untimely blight. Here q bulls head, and there
a monster lion, glowers upon the passers, as q
| sign of hot stove sausages, and whisky, within,
to ssy nothing of the low chambers and BEDS
dressed with cotton sheets, ranged with hospital
proximity. Before each Of the houses designa-
ted huge teams, loaded with bales and boxes
are settling in the mud, stiff standing topgae
before, and a dog, clumsy headed and black
mouthed, chained behind. You cannot see all
the miserable aspect of the place at this time
of night. for the lamps are feeble and few, and
the clouds thick and stormy. You cannot see
| how crooked the streets are, sld what small,
and dark, and ill-ventilated huts, are piled one
against smother, and one over another. You
cannot see ali the CUTTERS, where the green
water stands from years end to YEARS end,
nor the fat roofs, checked with lines, where the
! half-washed aud squeezed garments of the in
| habitants drip and mildew, and at last rot dry.
You can see plainly bright jars without mum.
Der, where fst spothecaries sleep wakefully,
and where the general poison of the atmosphere
is more tainted than elsewhere, if that were
possible but you cannot distinguish the tkou
! sand little turfless mounds that lie down the
| holIoy. close by the water, and neighbored by
vegetable gardens. And why should you look
| to see these The mothers whose children lie
there don't look that way often Gtey are too
| busy with drudging, and with scoIding the
| chiTdre4 they have left. But over the human
din and growi there is a grunting, and squeal-
lug, and bleating, and Bowling, that makes
your heart sick and through the barred win
dows of many sitting garrett calves are
thrusting their noses; and if you peer close be-
tween the cracks of one of the many long, low,
doorless and wipdoyless buildings that line the
street. you will see hundreds and thousands of
slaughtered hogs, their hind legs gambreled,"
and their noses dragging the ground; and if
you penetrate down one of the bristle-cushioned
alleys, you will see hundreds and thousands
gore wallowing together, and waiting their
turn end you understand better now why the
air seems SO thie., tcr these same animals are
being constantly manufsctursi, IS fast as all
| ingenious processes, and steam, and FIRE, and
| smoke, can do it, into lard, and hams, and sau.