The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1874-03-05

Last week a woman died of whom W
wish TO say word here. 1t does not maj
ter how or where she died. She was 8
poor, belonged to so common and poor
class, that no notice of her death found
place in even the cheapest paper, and n
one who knew her will read these words
Only one of those thousands Of ordinar-
lives that, day by day, end unnoticed. n,
more missed by the world than 80 man,
burned out candles. This woman hnc
neither beauty nor wit, nor large culture
she brought no gift with her when she wa
born 10 make her greatly welcome to tn,
world; never could sing a song nor write
poem; was not even fitted TO reigr
in drawingroom. She was only sweet
voiced gentle lady, full of wOmanly affec
ton and eager tenderness, who had kept
her pure childish beliefs unchanged
to middle age She was little, sickly.
STABILITY clothed; she lived in a taw-
dry house, with glaring paper on the
walls, and torn, dirty mating on the
floor; the air she breathed, was that Of
want and vulgarity; year in and year out
she worked at a machine, sewing dresses
for servants and shop girls who bulled
her, not UNREASONABLE; she was but poor
seamstress, if the truth must be told.
Her husband, a coarse-grained, gossiping
fellow, tried this trade and that, became
a wafd politician, did what he could for
his family, but felt that his wife must do
her share. He had been used to raw
boned, stout Connecticut farm women,
beside whom she doubtless appeared inef-
ficient enough.
Ifothers remembered how tenderly nur-
tured she had been as a girl, and that the
fortune she brought him he had flung
away, he never did. Nor did she.
They were wretchedly poor, and it Vas
but just and proper she should work So
she worked, stopping now and then 10
give birth to another child, to be nursed
at the tired breast, and watched and
prayed over with the blind, idolatrous devo-
ton she gave TO the others. Certain log
ical moralists lay down as axioms that
there can be no tragedy without crime,
and that no woman, with love, husband,
and children, ought TO ask for more. This
woman never did ask for more. The loud,
Dragging politician remained her hero To
the last. If her life dried and withered
away, as tree might, tapped of its juices
at the root, she thought it was herself that
was to blame. Thispoor lady was cursed
with as finely wrought an organization as
any favOrlte oftortune; both body and mind
required companions If her own caste,
anil that nutriment which nature and art
give but to few, but which that few must
have or die. Besides, not even the strong
est woman can furnish bread and butter
for a housefull of children, make their
clothes, keep their souls pure and their
manners refined, and add to the number
every year She was not strong in any
sense; SO she stitched and nursed and
trained them, with the dirty walls about
her and the torn mating under foot, and
the crowd of children grew shabbier and
cOarser and more vulgar day by day.
One day an old accomplishment of her
girlhood required to her-fower painting,
molding in clay, designing-it does not
matter what; work, however, in which her
real nature would have been in comparative
afiuence.
She sent specimen of her work for
trial, which was approved; but--men were
who had been trained TO BUSH
ness. Only the machine was left, and the
work for the children's bodies and souls
that she could not do. 1t grew and grew
before her sight until the day came when
she dropped as under an intOlerable bur
den. As she lay on the bed day after
day, slowly dying, husband and children
were loud in sorrow and astonishment.
GLOW had she come by such manifold
Machine work and want of air!
1t was incredible" She struggled with
her work yet, sewed as she lay on her
back, drew her children close to her with
a hungry, unsatisfied love in her eyes that
they could not understand. But as the
hour came for her to quit the world that
had been so niggardly of its comfort or
bounty To her, she was beset with restless
fancies, which to her husband seemed
sane "She thinks if she could
see and smell thorny rose that used 10
grow wild about the farms down there in
Maryland where she was born, she would
be well again. Now, what good could
there be in a rose?" He could not see why
she would make them put the children
out of the room, and turn out the gas that
she could not see the machine, and so lie
looking up at the patch Of sky above the
brick walls. When she was dead he cried,
~ did what l could; am not to blame"
And it was true; no man can 20 beyond
his nature. 1
VINO was to blame? Not poverty; not
the working for bread and butter; not the
unequal marriage. Since the world be-
gan, King Cophetaus have married beggar
girls untitled, and clothed them royalty in
their own fames; and Titanias have rejOiced
to worship an ass. But if she had been
taught practically the one occupation 70
which Fer taste and ability fitted herr If
all women were so thoroughly taught such
occupations that employment would be
open TO them as men The answer is
nothing TO her now. A day or two ago
the worn out body was laid back in the
earth t1 which It had been drawn BY such
strong and subtitle kiLship. To what rest
or fecompense the soul Of the gentle lady
passed, only He knows who took il hence.
Her work remains unfinished. But it
Is because there are 90 many thousands of
overworked women around US on every
side, staring bIahkly at their unconquera-
Die work, and lives wasted at MONDAY,
that We have told her story, and reverendy
held back her memory, for this brief mo
naent out Of eternal silencs. Cor. IN. Y.
Tribune 90 4 80 3. .,,.
~ & ~ sc -l4A----- - otVD'
~ D.H9 Armstrong, Chairman 81 the
Missouri Dem cratic State Central Com
IA Ftse.q declares the Democratic party
- To-