Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1877-11-15
HEROINE.

| do not wish you to imagine my
heroine as a lovely, dark-eyed damsel,
stolen in infancy from her distracted
parents, and restored to the, paternal
rags, of diamond studded locket, con-
tanning miniature portrait of a naval
officer, and of q fabulously beautiful
woman.
/ doubt if she ever saw a diamond,
unless in jewelers. window; and her
departed parents, a hod-carrier and a
washer-woman, died without mystery,
in their beds, leaving the child in care
of maternal aunt. No interesting
cognomen distinguished the little orphan
from the Sallies and Jennies of her ma
tive alley it was neither Elois, Helena
nor Josephine, but plain unvarnished
Eliza Ann Jenkins.
Her occupation was as homely as her
name, that of selling matches, crying
them through the streets with voice
that proclaimed the undOubted strength
and health of her throat and lungs.
Ny memory does not recall more
terribly stormy day than one in January,
several years ago, when, as | sat sewing
IN my coy room, my servant came to
tell me the little match-girl was at the
door
And, indade, marm," said the kind
hearted Irish girl, it's Almost frozen,
the girl is, with the bits of rags on her
stiff with sleet, and niver a shoe nor a
stocking to her poor little feet, at ALL
ut all
Barefooted y | cried in horror,
glancing out at the street, with its bed
Of halfmelted snow and slash bare
footed on this dreadful day."
cts that same she is, marm," an
swered the girl, whose name, [ may as
well mention, was Mollie, and that
pinched and starved looking, it would
make your heart ache to see her,
Jest"
Bring the child into the kitchen,
Mollie," l said give her something to
eat, and let her sit by the fire till come
down stairs"
Mollie started off, delighted with her
errand, and | busted myself at once in
an endeavor to help the pitable case she
had described.
Fortunately being an active member
stock of ready-made clothing under my
control for Just such little sufferers, and
| pulled out the basket at once, and
made such selections as seemed fitting.
Waiting little, till | thought the child
had been warmed, fed, and comforted, |
went down stairs TO verify Mollie's state
ments.
1t was not the first time | had seen
the child, for she had supplied me with
matches for several months but | had
never given her more than a passing
glance, or pleasant word. Now, as she
sat curled up on the rug before the
kitchen fire, eating eagerly of the hot
soup and bread Mollie had provided
with a liberal hand, my heart re-
preached me for having failed to no
tice her forlorn appearance and pinched
face before
She was very ugly child, rough
skinned and freckled, with coarse fea-
lures and dust-colored hair that seemed
entirely neglected, and face and figure
were thin and ungainly-looking. Her
eyes were good, large and bright, and
she had white, even teeth, but certainly
there was nothing pretty nor pleasing
about her Her hands and feet, which
We're entirely uncovered, were blood red
with cold.
"My poor child" said, chow came
YOU to be out barefooted III such ter
rible storm as this? Have you no
shoes"
"Had some" she said, shortly. Aunt
Sue pawned them last night for a spree
She was sleeping it off when | came
out. took ten cents out of her pockets
for matches, to get Il bit o whites.
Hadn't had nothing since yesterday.
The soups just about scrumptious, that's
what it is
But YOU must be nearly frozen"
g / took a tip out o Aunt Sues bottle
afore | started" was the answer. Its
nasty stuff, but it keeps you up when
you're cold and hungry"
have shoes and stockings here for
you," / said, and warm hood and
shawl"
She looked at me, and at the articles
in nv hand, and shook her head.
"Tain't no use," she said, speaking
very earnestly. q wouldn't have 'em
two hours. I've been fixed up nice, by
one lady and another, four or five times,
Dut Aunt sue can see me III goOu
clothes. It's Esure to make her thirs-
ty Y
Thirsty = / said.
Pawns the clothes for liquor?" said
Mollie
Exactly " said the match-girl, scrap
ing the last spoonful of soup from the
bowl. I'm just as much obliged to
you, ma'am," she continued, "but I've
about made up my mind not to carry
none too good to me when she is sober,
but when she's drunk she's too cantank-
erous to live. If you'll give me a bite
and warm now and then, I'll be just as
much obliged"
1t is too long story to tell all the
conversation that followed, but [ kept