New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1872-06-14
4 SKINNER UOLID1Y.

With the first hot breath of June the idle,
fashionable hOcks futter away to country
seats or to Newport. The few poorer folks
who have nothing to do but "lOaf and invite
"their sOuIsr through the Summer, are off to
the mountains, or beach, or any field fresh or
pasture new enough for hunting, fishing, or
even quiet, while the thousands who ought to
work the Summer through look longingly
after them. 1t is true the President has set
significant example to this latter class by
thus early betaking himself to the repose of
his cigars and stables at Long Branch, and
leaving the business of Government to take
care of itself; but not many busy people can
afford to follow his example. In a week or
two the records OF watering-place hops will
take the place OF dreary Congress debates in
the papers; we shall have accounts of ball
costumes and the frtations of bellies and
beaus instead of leaders on the Tariff or the
Ku-Klux bill. A few citizens went out for q
Summer holiday the other day of so novel a
kind and character that we think some account
of their doings might be as suggestive and
useful as that of the bellies of New-YO with
their elaborate fnery, or even the President
and his horse-fesh.
The story of this outing is briefly this :
About a dozen years ago woman going
through the vile purlieus of neighboring
city was especially hurt and touched by the
sight Of some little folks who were sick in
cellar full of heat and stencil, where whole
family lived, and fought, and ate-when they
had anything to eat. She had, perhaps, not
enough pity for the grown people they could
turn their strong wits, and big bones, and big
voices to some better use than drunkenness
or any other sort of beastliness; but the
children looked out of the dirt and disease at
her with innocent faces; they were sick unto
death, and they had seen so little of life
Nothing but its foulness, and want, and vice.
OF the sunshine, and greenness, and beauty
which God had sent, of good men or gentle
women, they knew nothing. We do not know
who this woman was, except that she
had little means of her own; we
fancy, though, that either she had lost
a child or that he had grown into q man and
gone from her never to come again, and
that it was for the sake of her own baby, that
never should lie upon her breast again, that
her heart was so tender toward these children.
The result of her tenderness we do know.
In year or two, small farmhouse was
bought and furnished as an hospital for
children. Other good women came to help in
the work. In place of the farm house, a large
plain building ia the midst of a grassy play
ground is now used for these little folks
They are brought only from such homes as
refuse them any chance of cure and comfort;
washed, clothed. and tenderly nursed until
their recovery is sure and complete. Nobody
eau walk through the quiet wards with their
rows of cribs, out of each of which little
face turns, often baby's face, sure that
they will never miss the motherly touch or
word, without feeling that this is the most
beautiful of all charities.
We give so much space to it iu the hope
that it may be initiated in other cities. When
the children are able to leave their betsthey are
neatly clothed and turned loose among the grass