Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1874-08-17
Saoies' Department..
ROCK NE TO SLEEP.


ed in the letter Of special correspond
ent at Augusta. Maine:
Mrs. Elizabeth Akers Allen, equally
well known as Florence Percy" Is at
present editorially connected with the
Portland Advertiser. She is the author
of Rock Ne to Sleep Mother" winch
poem was written by her while q factory
girl in this State, upon the sheet of
coarse brown wrapping paper in which
she had brought her noon-time lunch.
and while waiting for the hour to re-
commence labor.
The careful particularly Of detail |
visible in this bit of news gives ii
smack of authenticity which is almost
irresistibly convincing. In fact. could |
almost believe it myself, had | not been
previously informed by an equally ver-
aeious newspaper correspondent that | |
wrote the poem by the bedside Of my |
dying little boy, in Boston. when. under
the heaviest pressure of misfortune and |
poverty, was earning pinehed living |
for him and myself by doing slop-work
without a sewing-machine. | was nat
urally enough surprised at this, for
never lived in Boston, never did slop- |
work without sewing machine, never |
earned my little boys living, 1 never
wrote verses at his bedside, my little boy
never died, and | never had little boy.
Still did not dispute the story, for l |
consider contradiction as suggestive Of |
ill-breeding. and an alternative to be
employed only in ezrremities. And it
was as well that l did not, for | was
presently assured through the same
channel that wrote the poem out of the
lowest depths Of poverty and despair,
caused by the desertion of my husband.
with whom i had eloped from boarding
school. and who had repaid my devotion
by forsaking NE the next day. NotEith-
standing the unusual brevity of my mat
rimonial career, aud the fact that l had
previously been the idol of happy home,
his desertion appears to have left NE in
utter wretchedness and imminent danger
Of starvation, under which depressing
circumstances wrote the poem referred
to-a remorseful lament for the mother
whose heart had broken. This view was
scarcely less unhappy than the former,
and would have affected me deeply, ex-
eepting that | never was invited to clone
from boarding-sehool I Fever eloped
anywhere. never attended boarding
school. Ny husband never deserted NE,
and never broke my mothers heart.
But was drawn away from the mourn
full contemplation of these things by
third statement, to the effect that 1 wrote
the poem on my death-bed in Philadel-
phia, In wretched howell. where the
rain drifted in across the miserable bed
wherein soon afterward breathed nv
last.
This was the best story of the three.
because 1t was conelusive-it put the
unfortunate writer out Of her misery.
But Just as commenced to exult over
this eonsummation, Jersey gentleman.
Mr.. Alexander NJ. W. Ball, found an
other world to conquer, and published
book TO prove that 1 never wrote the
poem at all. but had stolen it from him.
What was TO believe? [ had at differ
ent times been informed that a Miss
Elizabeth Alger Of New York City, an
other lady out West, gentleman some
where else, and blacksmith in Georgia.
each wrote the poem, and each had
friends TO swear to it; and, as though
the affair was not already sufficiently
bewildering, here comes a voice Of con-
Vlctlon from my own State, declaring
through the World that I wrote the
poem myself when I was factory girl
II Maine. This Is all very we'll, except
ing that never carried my lunch IN
coarse brown wrapping paper. very much
preferrlng newspaper when l cannot
afford a napkin; that 1 should seorn to
write such verses on brown paper OBJ
seured by fragments Of eustard Die and
{ apple sauce. and that never was inside
I q factory IN Maine. Like the culurit
{ In court, whose case was 50 pathetically
presented to the jury as to touch even
{ himself To tears, l must admit that ]
did not know have suffered so much
until informed of it by the sympathetic
newspaper correspondent.
For journals and journalists have a
sincere respect, and even a family afFec.
ton; but what offence have I ever CON-
United against that ubiquitous person,
the newspaper correspondent. that in al
his flights of fancy he invariably de.
I scribes NE as in the depths Of poverty,
{ distress and disgrace, and incapable Of
earning respectable living? Why does
!. ne not say, sometimes, by way Of variety
that | wrote the poem IN a fine residencs
on Murray Hill. IN a palatial mansion
{ On Fifth avenue. IN the midst Of the re-
t gal rectangularity Of Philadelphia. or II
4 Vine-elad country seat On the Hudson
L Why not, instead Of calling NE a pau
d per. disobedient daughter, discardec