The Wyandot pioneer. (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1853-1868, 1868-11-05

city shape, the wretchednest of all
the forms she can assume, glowered
at them from every rag stuffed case
ment-spolze in the wilted vegeta
bles and decayed fruit hawlled thro't
1.-The streets. In the very smell of the
pipes smoked on the door steps, or
the whiskey being Eorne about in
pitchers and jugs by slip-shod wo-
men-evcn those bad things, whis-
KEY and tobacco, have vilest depth
of badness. The poor cannot even
poison themselves agreeably.
"It's an awful place." said Jones.
eyes," said Mercy. "Pious has
a home opposite Of yours, 1 believe.
Good likes a country seat better
Both attend -- Church, and
half their employees live in this st.
Good has three in family, beside the
servants, and makes use of twenty
two rooms. Pious is crowded with
his four sons and two daughters in
his palace, and thinks Of buying the
next door house and running the two
together. In twelve rooms of this
house live seventy-fiv of their hands
Walk in Mr.. Jones'"
The drunken man on the stairs
did not seem to notice them. nor the
angry women quarreliing in the pas
sage. Mercy kept her soft palm in
that of the manufacturer, and led
him ON, still as one leads the blind,
and they went up, up, up, until q
door lay open before them. There
sat woman sewing. Oh, how pret
ty she had been once! How worn
she was now! You could see thro'
her fingers. You could hear her
breath with q strange rustic in it,
Two children lay at her feet on the
floor, another perched on Il chair
looking her-all so intent, so watch
ful that Mr.. Jones whispered soft
| ly:
"What are they waiting for -
"Supper,' said Mercy. "'They
had no breakfast, They never have
dinner. unless black tea and and dry
bread means that name. Now she
must carry that big bundle two
miles-walk it, for she has 10 fares
before they eat
Good Heavens r. cried Mr, Jones
feeling for his pochet-book.
'Hush ~ said Mercy ''Y our time
for action has not come. We are
inaudible Listen! 1
brought you here to look and listen
And bIr Jones obeyed, for the
woman Just then spoke.
1t wasn't so when your poor pa
lived, children. But the war killed
him, as it has many husband and
father. God knows I work, but wo-
mans work aiI1t paid for as mems is
And that cut down in wages makes
it 50 bard \ dollar less, children,
[ earn, week, and that dollar kept
ue all day and q half. / wonder
whether they know that, those rich
men. A Saturday is starvation
time with us now. There don't cry
I'll buy Il bone and make soup Sun
day will and maybe the Lord
will take us all soon. When had
bonnets, and vert to church, I use
to hear abou, Heaven. I'd ought
to tell you more about it, children,
but I have ut time Nobody is hun
Cry there, l know
Lets go quick said the eldest
Mr. Jones shu1dered.
I can't stand it let me give EN-
something. he said.
But Mercy led him away. An
other room, another woman: but
the window was darkened with a
shawl, and Oh the table lay some
thing small, covered with white
cloth, the outline Of death so plain
under all its covering.
One woman was weeping, anot ther
trying TO comfort her.
Hes better off, she said, "a
daIe-tlle praste told We so.''
can that's the worse of it, said
the weeping woman, fercely that
they should be SO bad off here
starving and freezeiDg, and suffering
Och! an / work me fingers to the
bone, as ye know, Mrs. Rooney; an
that does ma kape the wolfe away. I
wish it was me instead Of the child,
lay there. It's I'll their fault. Pious
81 Good's-the bit dollar they cut
off me wages killed him. He had
to go without shoes, and he was del
icate. He took the cold from that
out in the streets, when I diden' t
know it, in the wet. Before the
dollar was TUX off we made out, but
''Its pad ,thrue for ye,'' said the
other, and though I'm betther off,
l feel it. He has work-me man
it's poor, buthe has it :, but there S
enough to do. An there's Paddy /;
I've been over fond of the child,
since he fell on the pint of me scis-
sors, and put out his two jewels of
eyes, an many the thing the odd
dollar would get him, I'd think
while I was sewing, when I'm paid
I'll take him over to the ferry, an
to the garden, where the Dutchmen
play the music, that pleases him so,
an I'll do this an that. 1t does
make a difference. But, sure I ought
not fret; it's bread with you, no less
An just let me give the babies a bit
of supper to-hight,and take cup OF
tav wild me yer self.
Take the children bless We, said
the woman, "and lave me here. I'll
thry and pray for the one that S
gone, and not curse him that killed
him."
Mr.. Jones felt himself turn faint
He looked at Mercy imploringly.
She led him away. Across the stains
lay a drunken man.
"Look at him." said Mercy. "Be-
fore Pious sand Good lowered his