The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1876-03-23
DRIFTING - Sadly DRIFTING.


She was fragment--a bit of wreck,
or seaweed, drifting about on great
ocean, which sometimes bore her calmly
forward, and again roared and ravcd
around her and took malicious pleasure
in dashing her against the cruel rocks.
A girl of twelve or thirteen-ragged,
forlorn, wicked, and drifting on and on
and knowing not where, even if she
cared. Sin there; poverty there; wretch
edness and misery there. Everything
there in her heart and mind but bright
hope. If she had ever seen one happy
hour in her life it was some hour when
she sat in the sun without fear of the
foot of brutal father or the fist of q
drunken mother. If she had ever
thought to shade her eyes and peer into
the future, as some starving, drifting
sailor might draw himself up and scan
the CLASSY sea for sight of sail, she had
seen nothing but darkness-not one
single hope that she would ever be better
fed or better loved.
Hearts which beat under rags some
times almost cease their beating to think
of the future. Eyes peer into the mist
shutting down over the path-shadows
o sigh and curse sets the heart free to
beat again.
1t is awful
1t is terrible for men and women and
children, each with soul to be judged
and punished and rewarded, to float on
the ocean of uncertainty-to drift near
to green shores-to be carried by some
current almost to the base of beacon
light-to feel the sandy beach under
their feet, and then be carried to sea
again, with night shutting down to hide
them from rescue. Every city is such
a sea. Every such sea has its bits of
floating wreck and cruel rocks and reef.
Matted hair, ragged garments, the
playmate Of the vile and an offspring of
the wicked and depraved, she heard q
hundred curses to one kind word. There
was no one ON the green shoreto cast her
line. There was no one at the beacon
light to understand her heart. There
were scars where sticks and clubs had
forced to obey. There was hunger and
woe and wickedness, and the tiny splin-
ter, shivered from some great hull, was
toy for the vagrant currents and cccen-
trio eddies and roaring whirlpools which
beset the sea of vice.
Her offense was not great, yet why
send her back to basement den to starve
and to receive further scars? Good food
might bring her good thoughts. Better
treatment might make her heart better.
Imprisonment might be salvation.
When the audience went out hand
had dipped down into the bubbling,
seething ocean and lifted up the bit of
wreck. 1t was tired of floating. The
treacherous reefs and jagged rocks were
bruising and reducing it. 1t may drift
again, but it will be stronger, aud its
path may be more clearly marked.
The sun shone dimly through the Gu
rious old windows, whose panes look
down into the courtroom. The shadows
danced across the floor and played over
the wall. There were dark shadows and
light shadows. By-and-bye, when the
sun shone stronger and brighter, the
shadows joined hands and held firmly tc
the wall in curious lines. A gray haired
old man, looking up from his reverie, saw
that the shadows formed words. He read
eff ye shall save one soul, your re-
ward shall be eternal -
Wasn't it stranger