Worcester daily spy., 1861-10-02
lNOrtester 1a1lp Spp.
THE COAL wHIPpERs DEATH.

l. Hc tIllluttH uO IOI even uttef Il WHISPER :,
sometimes they look up into their mothers
face Or timidly towards their fathers bed,
then stretch out their little arms over the tiny
fire that is burning in the CRATE. In the ex-
preston of the mothers face, you may read
that many plans present themselves one after
another to hear, and are one after another dis.
missed. Yet she continues to think inteny ;
she looks at her children without seeing them
as her eye wanders from object to object in
the mean little room. ''1here is the clock +"
perhaps she thinks "but that is gone" And
her eye tell with a melancholy glance on the
quiet place where for many an hour >it had
licked away in its ola corner, from whence
MANY a morning it had called the father before
the mornings dawn to his worS ''But lie
will never want it again." she thinks, as she
looks with heavy heart towards the bed.
"lhen llttl" jamie has nice warm cloak "
but the mother looks at the snow piled up
against the darkened window. mo, she will
not take poor Janie's cloak, There are tahel's
clothes-he will never want them aga II !; 30,
she cannot make up her mind. TO take fathers
clothes" AS one or two tears course scaly
down her pale checks, they drop pom her
ring, her wedding ring, her golden wedding
ring. "Shal she take that 2" No, she eau /,
she really cant take that" Such are the
plans which are passing, Que alter anOller
through the mothers thoughts
AT last she gets up-shG has made up her
mind. She unpins her gown, takes It off, and
folding 1t up carefully, makes II up into small
parcel. Whispering a charge to the children
to be quiet and take care OF their latler she
reaches from the nail against the wall a faded
ragged shawl and dingy bonnet and, quietly
putting them on, she opens the door gently,
and, taking the parcel, slides out into the dark
and snowy strtets A blast OF cold wnd
tlt,gt 81.
still carrying her gown under her arm. She
disappears i'll mean-luoking shop, with three
golden balls suspended over the door. She
comes Out again without her parcel, but yet
with happier look. l lie wind blows as
keenly as before; but she does not seem 10 feel
it SO much. Before she goes home, she goes
to her landord she has brought him little
money-she hopes, she trusts lie will take it,
and leave her sick husband in his bed. The
landlord takes it with growl. "lt is not
enough" he says. But the poor, pale wife
hurries home with heart lighter, at least Tor
the present She hangs up the bonnet and
shawl in their place, puts lew cinders on the
fire, and huggng her children to her bosom,
gets ready their coarse and humble meal.
A few more days, and a few more nights,
and the landlord comes again. Again The poor
"lie begs for Il little more time. The two
loares and the pint OF milk which she gels
weekly from the parish, and the wages of a
lucky days washing occasionally, keep, as she
would say, "the wolf from the door," starya-
ton does not actually deyuur her children or
herself and as for her poor husband, it is but
little he wants, little besides his bed but how
shall she keep this Tor him how can she pay
the rent unless she could find IA gold mine
She pleads with the landlord he is rcll-at
least rich III her eyes lie has an abundance OF
every thing, and that without working Tor il
he Is, Doubtless, III her ina gination, a gentle.
man OF property But The gentleman of
property" is cold hearted and coyetous; he
viii have his rent he says, or he will sell the
furniture. he furniture! This includes tie
bed With an aching heart she sits down by
it, and tells The sick man the sad truth. lie
makes motion to get up and dress himself
she reaches him his clothes. And they do
sell the bed and the chairs, and The table, and
all yes, alI-their all. The room is quite
empty now the sick man lies down on the
floor.
"Now,'' argued the miserable wife, "let US
go into the house, i. c. the workhouse.
mo" answered the sick man; Il will die
where l am"
And again she urged and urged him; but
the reply sill was, Il will die where / am"
Meanwhile matters began to look little
better. Perhaps the days washing came Il
little more frequently
II will 20" thought the wife, land ask him
if he will let me have the furniture back
again, ii pay SO much week Tor it; let me
see how much shall | offer 2" Having set
tied this point in her own mind, Sine went TO
the landlord.
II would rather" said the hard hearted
man, "giye a lad a penny to take them out
into the street and make Il bonfire OF them"
SO little straw, stiewn in the corner, contn-
ued TO be the bed OF the dying man.
The short, dark days and the long nights
passed away one after another and the long
evenings Of the mid winter, SO merry, SO
pleasant to thousands around. The snow was
lying deeper and deeper the cold grew strong
er. With help Of all the bits of rubbish tile
children could pick up, with the help OF all
which she herself could scrape together, the
mother could scarcely keep morse of fire
burning in the tiny CRATE; still there was a
little mors,l and the father, as lie was ly
ing on his straw, could see it, and he cheer
ed by it. With the help Of the two loaves,
and the pint Of milk, and the occasional days
washing, they all contrived 10 exist and the
sick man did not die.
Now the landlord began to think within
himself "who is to pay the next rent that will
be owing 2" There is nothing LETT to SELL
nothing; and go out OF the room the dying
man would not. "But | will make him.
thought The landlord. So he sent man and
took out the CRATE and carried it away, and
stopped up the chimney. In vain the poor
little girls went out now 10 search the dust
heaps Tor bits Of cinder, they could not burn
them even on the hearth. 1t looked SO cold
and desolate and they sat shivering and cry
ing beside it.
"Oh go into the house; let US go into the
house." urged the wife.
al will die where | am" Perhaps he
thought death was nearer than il was; but
day after day passed away and still he did
not die.
Again messenger came from the landlord.
What was he going to do! There was not an
article Of furniture in the room, even the crate
was gone what could he take what was
there TO take? We generally make mistake
when we think we have lost all, or are SO mis-
cradle that we cannot be worse. Perhaps this
miserable family looked on the landlords mes
senger with Indifference; but that indifference
soon ceased, when they saw him so to the
window and prepare 10 take out the sashlrame.
He took it out, and lifting the door from its
hinges, carried them both away.
The sick man slill with dying obstinacy,
clung TO the floor of his own room He would
not be moved; he would not go into the house.
In vain the fOggy, frosty air and the drippngs
of the melting snow came coIdly in; "he
would die there
No rent The landlord came again What
could he do now 3? He flooded the floor on
which the sick inan was lying with pals of
cold water. After few days he came again,
and again he poured the water over the place !;
the poor wlie's grief and despair were unavail-
ing. A few days more passed but he did
not come. The trembling family began to
Al. 10