Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1859-04-23
NJ S c L l. L A n Y.
[For The Vermont PhGnix.
REC0LLECTI0NS OF CITY LIFE
No. 1.--Thc Price Of Folly.


The professional records of almost any ac-
tive physician in large city like New York
will afford to the excitement seeker, an amount
of variety in its details of life, and degree of
romance, seldom suggested by the most vivid
imaginations.
In fact the mutations of life, in some of the
phases, are often to high degree, more start
ling in reality, than the writer of fiction would
dare to make them. But life is not always sad
and gloomy, for bright visions occur to us.
which seem to cause the shadows to appear still
darker, by the very comparison, and humorous
events sometimes happen, to make us forget
either, and thus like a constantly changing, but
never ending, panorama, the scenes keep shift
ing andrcyealing pictures Of loneliness and pur-
ity or sorrow and shame, or mirth provoking
humor.
Into the cellar, where poverty and wrctched-
ness, misery and crime, go hand in hand into
the garret, where, dreary and forsakcn, pines
the outcast all aone-where the raiters smoke
begrimed and menacing in their look, introduce
themselves without ceremony and under whose
caves, the biting blast finds entrance unoppos-
cd into the hoyel of the poor, and the palace
of the rich, the physician goes on his errand of
life, and thus learns more of humanity than
could possibly be gained in any other mode.
And the secrets Of the heart and the treas
ure of love; the mild and forbearing and pa.
tient endurance of suffering and wrong; and
the wild, fearful outburst of passion, and the
long nurtured and deadly spirit of revenge, or
the open manifestation of hate, are all brought
before him like picture, upon which he is re-
quircd to pass judgment, and do good, both to
the body and mind Of the sufferer!
Not many years ago, on bitter cold and
,har I
sitting coziy and rather lazily, perhaps, in my
comfortable chair before the open crate, doing
and dreaming of the cases | had been attend
ing during the day, and wondering about many
things in general and some in particular, when
the hurried ring of the door-bell aroused me
from my reverie. The nervousness of the jerk
at the handle of the bell and the hurried accent
of the query if was at home, prepared me al
once for an encounter with the storm, which
seemed inevitable
A moment AFTER note was placed in my
hand requesting immediate attendance upon 0
little darling who was thought to be dying
Without waiting to ask any questions | obeyed
the summons, and down the avenue and across
Broadway we hastened, whence still further
down, we plunged into the dark and narrow
unfrequented street. where the roar of the great
thoroughfarc was scarcely heard. paused be.
fore huge building which seemed like city
in itself, with its hundred families, and passing
through its narrow alley which served as q
means of entrance to the rear tenements, was
soon introduced to my patient
Here, in filthy cellar, at least six feet be-
meath the level of the yard, and not more thar
twelve feet apart, with small dark room at
tached, serving as bedroom, l found six hu.
man beings, two of whom had children in theii
arms.
Their only light was the sickly glare emitted
from the Pickering blaze of damp log o
wood, which was slowly burning in the great
open fireplace. and which revealed picture o.
destitution and misery not to be contemplated
without shudder.
The rough, unwashed floor was LITERAL,
strewn with scraps of rags and curled hail
which indicated the employment of the occu
pants, while the bare walls, through which tho
dampness oozed and trickled down, in minute
streams, gave disagreeable and sickening odoi
to the apartment.
Against the wall, on one side of the Fireplace
hung two shelves, upon which were few dishes
of various patterns and colors, several of then
broken while upon the other side hung rud,
engraving of the Virgin and Child. Neither
bedstead, table nor chair was visible but in
corner of the room, upon a pallet of straw
partly covered with rags, lay a lovely child o
about five summers, while beside her, in an ag
ony of grief, sat pale and emaciated female
quite young in appearance, but evidently brok
| en- down by suffering and disease, yet possess
ing traces of former beauty and refinement
| Her hair, of glossy brown, was cut close il
her neck, and her dress, though faded and worn
was whole and clean, and her features were O
regular if not classical mould, although sor
! row had sadly marred the outline.