The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-10-08
TOPSY TUMBLE.
A Little street waif, and what Became
Of Her.

OF Her.
She wasn't bad sort of girl for one
who had been brought up in an alley all
her days, living with old Mother Hart
ever since she was large enough to gather
chips around the sh1p-yard. The boys
called her Topsy Tumble, and nobody
knew anything about her parents or re-
latives. Her hair was long and matted; /;
her face tanned 10 q brown her noEe
always bore e stain of dirt, and she had
one-bruises on her feet, and ehapped
hands and sore heels, Just like the rag
ged boys with whom she played. The
"society" Of the alley rather cut Topsy
Tumble, but she was independent, and
she made faces at " society" from the
top of coal-sheds, and allowed herself
to be harnessed up beside Bob White
when the boys wanted blOoded team
to draw a creaking cart down around
the railroad crossing.
The alley was unusually quiet the
other week. Topsy Tumble was sick.
Mother Hart said so when Bob White
weRt to see if Topsy wanted to trade
her old jack-knife for a small dog which
he had picked up on Atwater street. 1t
was a strange thing, her illness. For
eleven years she had rolled in the dirt,
waded through the snow and plashed
around in the mud, and nobody had ever
heard her complain of anything more
than a stubbed toe. Bob couldn'k make
it out. He and Bill Davis and Sam
Sharp and Chip Larkins sat In the shade
of a truck wagon going TO decay and
talked it over. It would be rough on
Mother Hart to have sickness and bear
doctors bill, and they wondered if
TOpsy would get well in time to go out
with them the next week.
The doctor said it was bad fever,
and most of the folks in John Brown
alley called in to say that they would
sit up nights and do anything they
could. Topsy was out of her head,
talking strange things, and, after look
ing at her flushed face and listening to
her mutterings, Bob White called the
boys together on top of coal shed, and
there was a lump in his throat as he
whispered:
"Boys, Topsy's a-goin' to die I"
The boyslooked around over the sheds
and made no rep :, and by-and- by they
slid down one by one and went home.
There Was no more dog fighting In the
alley-nO pounding of fire alarms on
the old steaml boiler and then rush
ing the " masheen" up to the corner.
Columbus Jones brought his rooster
down and wanted to bet kite that it
could clean out any chicken in John
Brown alley, but the boys had no en-
thusiasm.
Topsy grew worse. The doctor called
twice day, but his medicines didn't
touch the case, and he told Mother Hart
that TOpsy must die. The old woman
felt little weak, and her eyes grew
misty. 1t had been a score of years
sIpce she had wept for grief, and she
could not remember when she had
thought of death.
The neighbors came in, and they tip
toed across the room, and kept their
babies still that the dying girl might |
hear no harsh sound. Bob White and |
his chums hung around the door awhile, |
and finally gathered courage to pull off |
their hats and enter the house. Mother |
Hart motioned for them TO take seats on |
the bench at the foot of the bed, and |
she whispered in weak voice
Bob, Pm afeard we're going to lose |
Topsy p
Bob wiped his eyes and his chin quiv-
cred, and some of the boys broke clear |
down and wept.
Topsy was unconscious. The boys |
wondered at the pallor of her face and /
the whiteness of her hands, and they /
saw that her matted hair had been cut |
short. The women shed tears. Mother |
Hart kept wiping her eyes on her apron,
and the boys wondered if sitting there |
wasn't something like going to meeting.
''She was a good girl, TOpsy was,"
whispered one of the women.
Gard so willing to help her mother,
said another.
"And she stood up for John Brown
alley p added Bob White, sob in his
throat.
Darkness settled down and they al
most lost sight of the white face. No
one moved. Some of the babies fell
asleep, and the mothers trotted them
softly, and the boys almost dozed as
they sat crooked up on the bench. The
shadows of night grew deeper, and the
rattle of a tuck going home sounded
painfully loud and harsh. Mother Hart
moved softly over and lighted the little
old lamp, and as she held it up the wO-
man said Poor dear p and Bob
White leaned over on Chip Larkins'
shoulder ard sobbed aloud.
Topsy Tumble was dead
The little soul, never washed by a
mothers tears-never made etter by
word about heaven-never drinking in /
the knowledge that only the body dies
crossed the dark valley alone, having
only the tears and heartaches of the
dwelers in John Brown alley to plead
its case with the angels.-DetrOit Post.