The democrat. [volume] (Weston, W. Va.) 1868-1874, 1874-10-12
Travail OF a Life.

In a late London paper appeared the
following, appended to notice Of q
woman starved to death
"On Thursday her landlord opened
the bare room, whence all the furniture
had been taken bit by bit for food.
There was no fuel, no food in the room;
only skeleton that a few days before
had laid down her pen, never more to
take It up agAiu-laid IL down in that
moment when her childhood's home
had risen before her, just rs the waters
OF life rolled into eternity's deep sea t.
Who was IL that thus went out FAM
ished thing into the world to come 2
Her journal contained these words the
name OF the owner having been care
fully erased
Fire 1 have gone without for days,
and now / am trying to see how long
this tired body can endure without
food. Strange, that during the last
few days I have lived over again my
girlhood's life. I Rm again in the old
rectory, once more | hear through the
open church windows the flow OF the
river, I hear the hum OF the bee, and
smell the sweet.scented hay; and
amidst all this dreamy, delicious Sab.
bath silence, voice is preaching the
law OF charity to simple listeners.
"Faith, hope, Rnd charity; but the
greatest OF all these is charity !" so far
have listened, and / am of agnln,
eyes and thoughts following the gayly.
winged butterfly which has just come
in ut the open window.
We penetrate into the very heart OF
the dense copse, and somehow or other
silence keeps our tongues. The ripened
nuts fall softly upon the dried leaves,
and the nimble little squirrel overhead
Is cycling us askance. Suddenly my
brother leaps TO his feet to gather some
flowers growing near. I am by his
side; ho has extended his hand, but it
is rapidly withdrawn yiper's head
had darted mp from among the moss.
Hunger tortures me,
and tho water l drink is 10y cold but 1
am in sunny France-sunny Southern
Franco, and our convent grounds slope
to the swift Rhono. We, knot Of
happy girls, are talking Of our future.
do not look so for as they; my eye is
following the laden grape. carts rs they
wind slowly down tho opposite hill,
and some grape.gatherers arc singing
in their soft patois, so musical and
sweet when draped in poetry. Schil.
| ler's nMnria Stuart" rings in my elrs,
mixed with the murmur OF the Rhine,
and I stay my pen to listen TO It's wa.
ters Us they leap over Schafrhausen's
Falls; the murmur grows louder, the
waters are dashlng along u mighty
flood they deafen me-they are com.
ing nearer and nearer but "Wie die
Arboit, 80 der Lonn" repeats itself
again and again: "As the labor, 80
the reward" l have labored, and my
reward is hunger, cold, q pauper's
grave. Twill try little longer. zap
peal to your relatives" | am told each
time ask fer help. did appeal.
One sent mo i've shillings, another sent
me two, md told me to make use OF my
education-that would find me bread.
l dropped the seven shillings into the
poor-box last Sunday when / dragged
myself TO church. I could not buy
bread with anything so grudgingly
given. The four walls Of my desolate
room close around me, the roar Of the
cataract OF the Rhine comes nearer, but
q voice from its din OF waters says :
"Tho greatest Of these is charity"
Have I lived in vain? Shall 1 die in
vain? U..