Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1868-03-06
THE LITTLE HEROINE.

N
"Morning again 1" and the weary, vast
ed invalid lifted his head from the pillow
and looked pitifully over the dim room.
Oh, that the night had been longer u
To the wretched, sleep is dear. "My
poor, poor wife-my darling babies-must
they freeze and starve?" And, with tears
gushing from his eyes, the pale man buried
his head in the scanty covering and
groaned aloud. 6 W. ~ 8
1t was no wonder that he was out OF
heart on that cold, dark December day. AT
best he had a hard struggle to get food,
and for the past six months the struggle
had been desperate, for his wife had been
unable to assist him in the least, being
confined to her bed with slow, wasting
disease. His little daughter Marie, pref
ty child oftwelve, kept the room tidy, and
herself, and two little brothers, like wax.
by the aid of her mothers whispered di-
rections, she also managed to do up the
weekly washing and ironing 1iW
"My little sunbeam" the father fondly
called her, while the mother would say, in
her low, sweet tones, "our angel"
One night the young housekeeper waited
until it was pitch dark for her father to
b come home to a frugal supper, and then,
with fearful forebodlngs at her heart, un-
dressed the little boysand put them to bed,
and tied onsher hood and cloak to 90 for
him. A crowd was at the very threshold.
Wilma wild cry, she rushed toward the in
animate form they carried upon board.
1t was her father, brought home with a
broken leg. n S#t5tB.i
A week has passed since this misfortune.
By the sale of the few pieces of furniture,
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
feverish lips no crust for the famished
children What should be done.
LII was 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
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 custom
ers Perhaps they would try her. "If
they on y would" she murmured softly.
am handy, quick and patient, and I
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
viole,s that nestle in the woodlands. ~
will try, at least, and see what can do"
and, after watching a moment the weary
sleep OF her parents, she whispered to the
IIttln hNUc tbot oh MAG % -
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 until Satur-
day, and there were four weary days be-
tween this and that. Bread would be too
late if she waited till then. What should
she do-beg? She asked herself the oues-
ton with quivering lip. Never before
had their poverty driven them to that
strait, and it was hard, even now, with the
picture of that wretched home fresh in her
vision, to plead for charity. But she did it.
Again and again she said to the passer.by,
"Please, sir, please, ma'am, give me penny
to buy bread for my sick parents"
But The gentlemen had their overcoats
buttoned up 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.
$50 to the soup-house," said one, at
last, more churlish than the rest. "The
city provides for such as YOU"
1t was new idea to her, and, as fast as
feet could carry her, she went, and, enter
ing in breathless haste, told her story to
the attendant matron.
l.," will report the case to the commit
tee" said the woman quietly, making a
memorandum of the name and number of
street. Come in tomorrow morning,
and will do what can for YOU"
Tomorrow she would become too weak
to walk so far by that time, and what
would become of the rest?
With a heavy heart, she went home,
having no courage to present herself as a
waiter to any of the coffee 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
,re " Did you get some?" said two faint
voices from the bed in the corner, and the
coverlet was thrown Off, and two pairs OF
thin, white hands put forth
-" No, no." she answered, plaintively ;
shut | will try again. Keep up good
hope"
"There will be plenty out of the oven
now. Yes, plenty" she said to herself, as
she buttoned her cloak on the threshold
"plenty, and I'll have some, too They
shall not starve. Men and women forsake
me; God doesn't hear me any longer
There is nothing left for me to do but
steal"
s. Her face paled as she spoke it, and for a
few moments there was wild wrestle In
her heart. Then she went on quietly,
pauslng an instant before each bakers
door, and looking anxiously within. BY
and by she found one that seemed empty.
A whole pile of steaming loayes lay
upon the counter.
She rushed in and seized one, and, hiding
it under her cloak, fled madly up the street
But the baker had seen her from the little
sitting-room,. and was after her. CRYING
Justify, "Stop thief, stop .thiefr' A crowd
followed her and the poor child was soon
run down.
ga clear case" said the police officer,
who took her. {" She must go to the court.
ROOM"
In vain she pleaded with them, and told
her story.
They must do their duty; she Nigh,