The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1872-08-30
SATURDAY NIGHT.


de SATURDAY NIGHT.
no. Little Tin Pails-
God bless those little TIN pails2
III Tonight We saw them going hon
ola thousand and more of then
, They were carried by men who toll
II by the working-men who are snee
% ed at, and snubbed, and jostle
"a against and pushed aside by the gill
edged fashionables whose hands ar
7 soft and whose hearts are hard. Th
!. little tin pals went out this morning
i and they went in tonight. The ma
who had one in his hand swinging b
= his side, was weary, and footsore
just as we have bsen thousan,
times, and no one to pity US save tn
! one who waited our coming, and Coz
who has pity for all who need.
ri We saw the laborers 60 by thil
' morning. Their little pals full
. their step quick and elastic, for i
| will not do for lsboring men to b.
, late. The rich, who carry furs, ani
gold clasp purses, and who pet theil
poodles, may be late or not go at all
but the honest man with hard palms
and an uncertain future-he must b,
| on time. Way up stairs, down Gel
stlar; in the close, sticky, roPy, thick
ened Air OF the tenement house
where humsxsity is huddled like sheep
their little pals were filled. A wifi
arose while her tiro>d husband wa
sleeping "just q momei more" an(
with silent step walked t6uohSGr til
the scanty meal OF the norm
ready. Then she called him and tn0|
tired man arose, wishing he did not
have to 60 forth thus early. And
while he ate hurriedly, the hand he
once so loved to kiss filled that little
pail. A slice or two of bread, lit
tie cold meat, some salt and mustard;
and, perhaps piece Of pie or cake;
mayhsp an egg, or cold potato; and,
perchance, in little cup on the top
Of the pail pint Of coffee. Then the
knife and the spoon are slipped
in and he hurried away.
Work, work, work Hour after
hour. Thinking Of this and that
ofthe past, of to day, Of tomorrow.
Hammer, saw, pound, brush, stitch,
file, drill, shovel, lit, watch, strain
muscle and strain mind. Hours go
by--noon comes. The little pail is
a welcome treasure. Itcomes at the |
hour of rest with its fill of food. The
tired man eats, and he thinks of
home and the loving hands that fill
ed his little pail. And his heart
grows strong, and when the noon
hour is over he works, and works,
and he works for her and for them,
and for better home, and q time
when to rest day is not to rob the
loved ones.
And he looks back over the years
to the time when he wondered if she
loved him, and to the Saturday
nights when he hurried home, and
washed his face, neck and body;
when he puts on his best, and no
matter how tired, hastened to meet
her, to put his hand in hers, to take
one, two, three-a score of kisses
from the lips so loved, and to look,
Oh! 90 far down into the depths Of
the eyes, which were his choicest
mirrors. She was young then. Now
she is old, or growing old. He
works in the shop. She tolls in the
house, and, perhaps, goes out to Ia
Dor, to help him earn home.
Monday-Tuesday-We ednesday-l
Thursday-Friday-Saturday! Six
days Of toll, of waiting, Of working,
of hoping, Of donbting, of hard labor
for the loved ones, and the life all
prize. The little pals go and come,
day after day, till they build houses,
stores, churches, towns, cities, coun-
tries. And they last often after
those who carry them have gone
home to the land OF leal and the rest
that knows no more disturbing. Up
in shops-'way up stairs, and down
cellars, on the streets, here, there,
everywhere they go and come, till
they have worn out the laborers and
enriched the employer.
And the men who carry them, and
all who toll, are the ones who build up |
the country, city and finish the town.
The miser looks at bis gold or his
bonds-the bondholder rides in his
carriage, quaffs his wine, lolls back
on his sofa, sports his jewelrY, counts
his bonds, figures on his income, e,pays
no taxes, and lives like lord. He
builds no houses. He erects no
stores. He piles not one brick above
another till beautiful Improvement
be made; but he robs the little tin
pail of all it earns, and empties the
sweat 1t holds on Saturday night in
to the crucible OF Congressional pro-
lection, then pours out perfumery for
himself and his loved ones, who are
mincy, and nobby, and stylish, and
soft of palm-who wear silks, and
catch their skirts in hand as they
pass the little tin pail lest the robe OF
aristocracy be touched with honest
spots. We do not like the mincing
worshippers of poodles, and the ones
who sneer at the laborer and rob him
of his earnings.
For an hour we have seen them 60
by. Little tin pails-more precious
and worthy than diamond necklaces.
The ones who carry them seem tired,
as we are tired from over writing.
God guide them who carry them to
happy homes, and give the weary
man q night ofrest. And to him We
say, God knowing we mean but good.
Go home and rest Hang the pail
on its nail, or stand 1t on its shelf.
Then draw off your boots, il the
chores be done. Kiss your wife as
you did years ago when on Saturday
night you told her you loved her so
dearly. Call back the love light.
Be good and kind to her. Rest her
palm in yours. Smooth back the
hair from her brow, and hold her
cheek to your neck as in days OF the
past. She has worked sll the week.
In her room-busy: busy, ever busy.
for womsn's work is never done.
She has not had the company you
have. She has counted the hours
waiting your coming, for the home oi
the poor is sometimes lonely BE
kind to her-love her-talk to her
read to her. Read this chapter to her,
and tell her you are trying to make
your home and your loved ones hap
py. Save your money. Beautify
your home, be it ever so humble
Do not squander it for rum or in dis
sipation, to weaken your strength
shorten your days, and embitter th'
final hour. And try, workingmar
and Brother, how much you can d.
to make home happier, and our wors
will be to help you.
THE Boston Advertiser says that tn
Democratic revolt is rapidly spread
ing. Those who have charge of tn
!