The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1865-06-30
81 Little StOry."
BY MISS ANN F.. DICKINSON.

to illustrate the whole matter? Som
time ago, l was going home one night
just as the shades were closing round i
commenced to rain, and | saw walkin!
before me beautifully dressed woman
unsheltered. | went up to her and said
Madam, will you have part of my um
brella; will you walk with me mp tn,
street ?" She, looking at me and shak
ing her head slowly, said, 81 don't think
you know what you are saying.' "Oh
yes" | responded. 81 say will you wall
up the street with me under my umbrella?'
She said again, 81 don't think you know
what you are saying. You don't know
who am" Still | said, "That makes
no difference don't care whether yor
know me or not; shall we 90 up the
street together ?" q don't think vol
would care to have any body who knows
you meet you walking up the street with
such woman as me; and l turning
looking into her face as the gas light struck
across it, saw there the traces of life that
always leaves its traces, knowing that the
young and beautiful woman standing be-
side Inc was one upon whom society had
branded "Outcast" and abandoned y
and l said, {" No matter, we will 90 on to.
gether.' And as we walked I said to her.
"What could have brought you to such a
lite; you are young, you are pretty, you
look well what could have brought you
to such lite?" She told me then he1
story, and l questioning thereafter, found
that the story was strictly true She was
the daughter of a clergyman in Western
Pennsylvania, who had died leaving his
widow and herself penniless and not pro-
vided for. The girl tried to find some
thing to do. 1t was the common story
repeated She tried to stand behind the
counter, but they preferred young men
she tried to keep school, but there was on
ly one in the village, and that had a
teacher; she tried to sew, but could not
find the work there to support herself and
mother by it, and so they found their way
to the great busy, bustling city, in pursuit
of work. She tried to keep school there,
but could not obtain an appointment
She tried to get into store, but was told
that she must first serve six months as an
apprentice without pay. She was driven
to the slop-shop, making her miserable pit
tance by sewing. One week she took her
work to her employer and asked for her
pay. He looked at it, and tearing it
apart and flinging it back to her, told her
te do it over again. She carried it back,
and, the next week. bringing it home, re-
ceived no pay, but was told to carry it
back again; and so for five weeks she re-
ceived no money. She had sold or pawn
ed everything she had for bread-that she
could live and have little fire, beside
which might work-and she stood there
before her employer, with clasped hands
and tears trickling down her face, begging
for the money she had rightfully earned,
and it was still withheld from her : ''You
are beautiful and young; you need not la
Dor for such pittance as this-you might
get plenty OF money if you would" She
did, mother, what your daughter would
have done. She left the store, indignant
and outraged, and wandered up and down
the city hour after hour, and went up one
street and down another, pleading for
work, and some kind hearted people said
to her: ave would give you work if
we could, but we have five hundred such
applications every day" or, perhaps they
would ask for her certificate from her last
employer, and she had none to show :
Others turned away carelessly, and Others
inSulted and outraged her as her old en-
ployer had done; and so, she said, at ten
o'clock that Saturday night she found her
self standing without work, without mon
ey. in front Of her old store There she
stood, in the night, and the storm, and
the cold: there she stood, the gloom gath
ering about her, the wind driving the rain
in gusts into her face and through hel
torn garments. Oh. she said, do not
think | hesitated then. She looked uE
this long street, drak with the night and
tempest, up narrow alleys and passage.
ways, up winding flights of stairs, into a
little garret room, all poor and empty, in
to the fire place-no fire here-not a
stick of wood-not cent to buy any
with; into the little corner cupboard, all
bare and empty, not even a crust of bread.
and not cent to buy any with. All!
she said, don't think I hesitated then
Don't think so meanly Of me as that
But looking into this little room, poor,
starved, wretched, miserable; looking
round into one corner, there, she said,
saw my poor mother dying of hunger and
cold. Oh, what marvel, what marve
that she fell,
And so she had gone on, lower and low.
er, step by step. l said, you must stop
this life; you shall 60 with me-maybe
can find something for you to do You
shall stand an honorable and respectable
! NOlli'tll OICc more. NO, IlO, Sllc SStlu
don't try it, you need not talk to me so
l have tried again and again and am al
ways discovered and driven back. Yor
need not try to help me. There. is nc
hope, there is no help for such a woman
as l." and then turning and looking back
to me-oh, men, oh, women, careless and
Indifferent, oh, that you could have seer
the girls face, and could have heard hel
say, You are young, you are handsome
ly dressed, maybe you have wealth, may
be influence, OH beg you, pray, te