The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-01-11
Nothing TO Eat.

serenelv, writes a New York correspon-
dent. It used to make Inc gleeful and
rosy, but it cannot DO that any more in
this city. l suppose the change is of
time upon myself as we'll as circumstan-
ces upon the proud island. No, it is not
all because of the individual difference
between the now and the then which is
within, because to-day, when l opened
my door to look up and down the beauti-
full white street when the glamor of the
snow should have made it seem pure and
enchanting, I saw nothing that did not
make me heavy hearted. I tried to turn
my face upward to meet the melting stars
that were failing from the gray clouds,
lust for the sake of that childish habit
which clings to the most of us, no matter
how severely dignity scorns and
tramples upon such petty tricks of SIM
plicity. but the clamor before my vesti-
bule was too sorrowful and imploring
for such sentiment.
"For Gods sake let me shovel away
the snow," said strong man /: 81 have
wife and little children, and they are
very hungry and very cold"
"My mother can get no work at all /;
can't do it, please? ?" piped shivering
little boy.
"If I only had shovel or broom
NAV be We would let me have the job to
do" said low voiced old woman, whose
features were not those of one who had
spent almost ali entire life in struggling
for bread.
"Why do come out in the storm ?" 1
asked OF her.
Because must" she said. Last
winter hoped L might be dead before
the winter came again, but when the
summer was here, l somewhat liked to
live, but don't want to be here very
long, even if l was to be warm. don't
seem to be wanted much anywhere, or
perhaps 1 might get to die and be COM
Portable" she added, after pausing to
reflect between the last sentence and
what she had said. before. "Come in
and get warm," l said to her.
Il don't go to no soup houses, nor to
no charity committees, ma'am, and |
don't want anything I don't earn, If you
please. If you give me the sweeping to
do and lend me broom / might be
thankful for the taste of a warm stove,
ma'am, for I've been starving with the
cold"
Three imploring faces, and but one
sidewalk to sweep.
To feed the child, and send loaf to
the other children is not much Ill this
great hungry city, but the humiliating
influences of the unearned bread Who
may know but that never a snowflake
shall fall again upon either the child's or
the mans forehead to melt upon a glow
of self-respect.
Never did a-Christmas week pass in
New York when the rich and the poor
were so far apart either in sympathy or
circumstances. The chops are filled
with the rarest of beautiful things from
the geniuses of both the artist and the
artisan. Philadelphia has drifted up to
New York. The beautiful array OF
things sent by all the civilized nations OF
the earth, which could be purchased
only at fabulous prices when on exhlbl-
ton, can be bought at less expense than
ANYTHING that is beautiful of our own
corntry's handiwork. 1t is claimed that
the merchants in the various parts OF the
world, notably in China and Japan,
France and England, procured duplicates,
or close copies Of the articles that were
rewarded with medals or parchment ap-
prevails, and they are now making for
tunes out of the late enthusiasm OF our
citizens. A tiny cup and saucer, dainhly
painted, and as frail as it is beautiful,
was sold at auction for $40, while the
pale fuced woman at my door says
"Pray lend me O broom, that I may
earn scanty bit of bread, and respect
myself"