Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-11-22
THE LITTLE HEROINE.
BY MRS. CAROLINE soULE.

"Morning again !" and the weary, wasted
invalid lifted his head from his pillow and
looked pitifully over the dim room. "0h
that the night had been longerl To the
wretched, sleep is dear. My spoor, poor
wife-my darling babies-must they freeze
and starve? Oh, God it is too much !"
And with tears gushing from his eyes, the
pale man buried his head in the scanty COW
ering and groaned aloud.
1t was no wonder that he was out of
heart on that cold, dark December day. At
best, he had q hard struggle to get food, and
for the past six months the struggle had
been almost des perate, for his wife had been
unable to assist him in the least, being con-
fined to her bed with a slow wasting disease
His little daughter Marie a pretty child of
twelve, kept the room tidy, and herself and
two little brothers like wax. By the aid of
her mothers whispered directions she also
managed to cook the scanty meals, and also
managed to do up the weekly washing and
ironing.
Only little sunbeam the father fondly
called her, while the mother would say, in
her low sweet tones, Tor angel"
One night the young housekeeper waited
until il was pitch dark for her father to
come home to his frugal supper, and then,
with fearful foreboding az her heart, un-
dressed the little boys and put them to bed,
and tied on her cloak and hood to go for
him. a crowd met her at the very thres-
hold. With wild cry, she rushed toward
the inanimate form they carried upon a
board. 1t was her father brought home to
them with broken leg.
A week had passed since this, misf9rtune.
BY the sale of their few pieces bRfurniture,
the wolf had been kept from the door. But
now nothing remained save the coarse bed
on which the distressed ones slept. No
coal for the little CRATE, no tea for the fever
ish lips; no crust for the famished children
What should be done?
1t was a question little Marie asked her.
self again as they lay there watching the
few pale sunbeams that struggled through
the window. And she asked it oftener after
she had risen and dressed herself and her
brothers, and smoothed the two beds.
Bread they must have that day. They were
all faint even now, and the boys clamOring
for their breakfast.
Suddenly bright thought came to the
little daughter. She remembered having
seen in the coffee-houses, young girls, no
taller than she, waiting upon the customers.
Perhaps they would try her. off they only
would" she murmured softly. 81 am
handy, quick and patient, and l would try
SO hard to oblige." / am pretty, too, she
might truly have added, had there been
spark of vanity in her heart; for she was
sweet child, with brow like a sunny snow
drift, and eyes like the spring violets that
nestle in the woodlands. ~ will try, at
least, and see what l can do" and after
watching moment the weary sleep of her
parents, she whispered to the little boys
that she was going out to get some bread
for them, and hurried away.
She did go to the bakers, but her pitiful
story failed to touch his hard heart, and
there were tears on her cold cheek as she
turned away. Even if she secured place,
she could hope for no wages till Saturday,
and there were four weary days between
this and that. Bread would be too late if
she waited till then. What should she do
beg2 She asked herself the question with
a a-quivering Zip. Never before had theil
poverty driven them to that strait, and il
was hard, even now, with the picture o
that wretched home fresh in her vision, t
plead for charity. But she did. Again anG
again, she said to the passer-by, please,
sir, please, ma'am, give penny to buy
bread for my sick parents"
But the gentlemen had their overcoats to
their chins, and the ladies were enveloped
in furs, and it was too much like trouble
to find their pocket books or purses just to
supply beggar's wants.
"Go to the soup-house," said one, at last,
more churlish than the rest. "The city
provides for such as you"
1t was q new idea to her, and as fast
as feet could carry her she went and en-
tering in breathless haste told her story to
the attendant matron.
81 will report the case to the committee" "
said the woman quietly, making a memo
randum Of the name and number of the
street. "COme in tomorrow morning, and
l will do what l can for you"
Tomorrow She would be too weak Ia
walk so far by that time, and what would
become of the rest2
With heavy heart she went home, hav.
ing no courage 10 present herself as O
waiter at any of the cotiee-houses she passed
on her way.
"Did you get some ?" cried the boys,
gathering about her, and pulling off her
cloak to see if it were hidden in her cloak or
under her arms.
"Did you get 2'' said two faint voices
from the bed in the corner and the cover.
let was thrown of, and two pairs Of thin
white hands, put forth.
"No no." she answered plaintively. "Bu
will try again. Keep up good hope"
"There will be plenty out of the over
now. Yes, plenty" she said TO herself, a
she buttoned her cloak on the threshold
'plenty, and I'll have some, too. The,
shall not starve. Men and women forsak
me; God doesn't hear me any longer Their
is nothing left for me to do but steal"
Her face paled as she spoke tt, and for {
few moments there was wild Wrestle il
her heart. Then she went on quietly, paus
ing an instant before each bakers door
and looking anxiously within. By and b.
she found one that seemed empty.
A whole pile of steaming loaVes lay upol
the counter.
She rushed in and seized one, and hid
ing it under her cloak, fed madly up the
street But the baker had seen her fron
the little sitting-r room door, and was after
her, crying Justify, "Stop thief, stop theft
A crowd followed her and the poor child
was soon run down.
"a clear case," said the police officer,
who took her in hand-'property found on
her. She must go to the courtroom"
In vain she pleaded with them, and told
her story. "They must do their duty; she
might have begged; she might have gone to
the soup-house there was no excuse fol
stealing, at any rate"
No excuse, and her mother was dying fol
An innovtonf tr;o1 "a. ..I .1: -