Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1870-12-30
From Becton's Ohristmss Annual.
A HOLIDAY STORY.
A Poor Parsons Tale.

Friends. cannot tell you story Il
tickle dainty ears. My work lies in
large, scattered parish, closely populated
with the very poor, whom I am almos
powerless' 10 assist, and knowing how
empty and cruel are words Of comfor
without that help I cannot give to all the
hungry sometimes almost fear to preach
too. It is terrible to preach of the Lamb
to people with the wolf at the door. In
this parish are many rich men-many
thriving and well-to-do shopkeepers and
menufacturers-many benevolent men who
wish we'll to the poor and mistake that 70,
benefcence-mapy bfnefcent men who
. willingly give of their abundance coalf
and hannels at Christmas TO fund and
! to a committee, but never know the poor
or visit them i'll their afaiction--m q be
do good to the poor and mistake that fol
charity.
Some years ago in time of great des-
tuition, when hundreds of the laboring
classes were reduced to the most abiect
, distress through a sudden failure in a
staple nnanufacture-the dwellings of the
poor became frightfully crowded. As
many as forty and fifty human beings bud
died together in a single house-if house,
indeed, it could be called-and ate, drank,
slept, washed, and cooked-the sick and
the well, young ana old, married aud
vermin. It was bad sign often when a
single family did have single on
There Is an instinct in birds and beasts
which leads them to go away from their
kind to suffer aud to die. And too often
the single room told of worse straits and
deeper destitotion than could have been
borne IN a crowd.
At :he time Of this distress. one after
moon, l was visiting little parishioner OF
| # NJ
with her younger sister, makes match
boxes at twopence- halfpsnny per gross,
and finds glue and thin paper for the in
sides. too; and earns, Lizzie Dottrell and
her sister together, nearly Orquite as much
as her feeble mother can make at sewing.
Between them the three pay the ninepence
a week re1t of their own little room, and
just keep the wolf from coming in-only
Just. While there l heard 8 noise in the
street, and going out to sac the cause,
some one said: ''Oh, do go up into the
house, sir; there's a man there beating his
wife shameful !" I went where I was di-
rected-up a broken flight of greasy stairs,
winding round filthy black passage, up
another flight of broken stairs, and past
many haggard faces of men and women.
Outside broken door paused, uncertain
if it were the right one. l heard a moan
that sounded like a woman'e. Then man
spoke in a weak voice, but passionate and
broken into pauses by sickness or weak
ness 81 Wish, my God, had killed you,
Jane T. "And I, Tom-and I would not
have cried or groaned, if you had only
kissed me first, and told me you meant it,
and would forgive me-" 81 would-have
done it, he gasped out; @but II haven't
GOETHE strength.
I opened the door and walked in. "What
do you want?" the man asked, in husky
whisper. He was lying on the bare floor,
very faint, and had raised himself up on
his elbow. He had face like skeleton,
in which hunger and fever were contend
ing for a prey-for the wolf had come in,
and was looking out of his eyes. There
was not q scrap of furniture in the room
neiter bed nor bedstead, chair nor table;
only broken teapot with a little water
in it beside the man. In another part of
the room, against an empty 6re-grate, lay
his wife, also on the floor, laying on her
back, and pale from the loss of blood that
flowed from her head. Near her was q
piece of iron rod that seemed once to have
served for poker-and now for weapon.
ST don't know" I said, for was taken
aback; l wish only to render help, if
can" go to her." he said. went and
examined the blows on the poor womans
head. They were not serious, although
bleeding profu=ely- scalp wounds and
bruises only. poured some of the water
from the teapot on my handkerchief, |
bathed them, and bandaged them with it.
There was the wolf in her eyes too-till the
tears came Then it left. HE didn't
mean to do it, sir"-the woman was cry-
ing while tied up the wounds. ''He is
the kindest of husbands; but we have been
in trouble lately. There was no work.
We've parted with the last of the things
fortnight ago. / couldn't bear to see
him die for want before my eyes; and so l
sent my daughter-nO, sir, L can't tell you
but we were all two days without food |
It wasn't for myself, sir; l would sooner |
have died; but I couldn't bear to see him
suffer. And as for what he did to me, l
deserve it oil.
I had a little pocket communion service
with me. There was wine in it. [ poured
it out-no sacrilege-and gave it to her.
She would not touch it until her husband
had first drank q great part of it. Then.
seeing him rifle revived by the wine, 1
sat him on the floor. having given trife
to his wife TO by bread, and directed her |
to send for doctor. When she was gone
drew his terrible story from him in short
questionings and ans wers, as he could bear
it. He withheld the portions relative to
his own greater privations. These 1 af- |
terward gathered from his wife.
He had been out OF work ten months, |
along with many hundreds of others, and
there was no work at his trade obtainaEle
anywhere. He gave up his little house
first That was a great pain. His wife
was above his own station, and had taken
such pride in it, and made, even ont OF
his poor things, home fit for gentle
man, he said. The little savings from his
weekly wages soon went. and when he
moved into two rooms the furniture began |
to go. They remained in two rooms till it
was all gone for food but the mattress
then he moved here, and nothing was left
but few garments to pawn. All this time
he sought work ; tried TO get only an hours |
employ as porter, messenger, anything, as
the scale, the fercer men fight for their |
own-hunger makes them so keen. Hun
dreds were struggling for the like employ. |
The strong and clamorous succeeded, |
while the heart broken were trampled
down in the crowd. Now and then he did |