Daily Kennebec journal., 1878-12-13
Iales aud Skftfhes.
A RIyER-DREAM.

them look as though they would sufiocate
for the want of air. Then they were so
dilapidated and faded and tumble-down,
| it seemed a wonder they kept up at all.
10 look at them at distance you would
| think, from the queer wav the roofs all
slanted and leaned towards each other.
and a trick some of the houses had of pok.
ing up inquisitive looking dormer gables
and windows in quite unexpected places,
that they had some important secret that
they were whispering and hobnobbing
over. And then the narrow, crooked
stree t., with their seas of mad, and filthy
cutters, and Uttered sidewalks, the very
stones of which had dissipated. rakish
air, as il instead OF lying quietly in their
| places and doing their duty. they could
| do nothing better with their time than 90
KNOCKING about in a disreputable fashion,
| to trip up unwary passengers. And then
| the oders Surely Cologne itself never
boasted larger and more extensive col
lection; at least, tor the sake OF its luckess
inhabitants. let us hope SO.
more unhealthy, undersized. dirty.
gossiping, miserable, worthless set of
human beings surely never existed any
where. The men were mostly out Of
work and drunk, the women lean and rag
ged and unwomanly, and the children lit
tie and weird and woi-eyed. Many was
the drunken brawl and scene of brutal
violence that awoke the midnight echoes
of the strets, and fever and malaria un-
| molested, stalked abroad Within, the
houses were as uninviting as without
with separate family on every floor,
sometimes within every room. What
wonder that the health and the morals Of
the place should be at a terribly low ebb
And what seemed to make it all more
painful and pitiful, was the loveluess ofths
valley in whose lap lay this pestilent little
town. The green, tlower-gemmed mead.
ows were SO fresh and far-the air was
so fragrant and balmy-tbe birds sang go
sweety-lhe little flowers were so bril-
liantly hued and so dainty formed-the
river and its many shady back waters and
| tributary streamlets were SO fresh, and
bright ard sparkling, and the murmuring
music that they made blended in such
| sweet harmony with the linklng of the
sheep-bells, the lowing OF the cattle, and
the clear, ringing note OF the skylark,
whose bit of boiy seemed a mere speck
far away against the blue. 1t lay. this
lovely valley, like glorious picture, nobly
framed by purple. shadow swept hills.
and over arched by heavens's cloud
hscked blue
But though rich in beauty and healthful
with heavens breezes, it Yet clasped q
| canker spot of corruption to its breast
like Il beautiful women whose soul is
worthless and diseased. Very few of the
miserable inhabitants of Mie-end. not
even the children, ever found their way
out OF the noisome atmosphere of the
streets into the purity and beauty of the
woods and fields beyond. Like the grub
that tastes OF the nut it feeds and battens
on. the dirt and squalor and poverty Of
the place seemed to grow into the hearts
and minds and natures of its people, and
to rub out all capacity for enjoying what
was better and purer then themselves.
And yet even here, brutal and degraded
as were the many, in the few, terribly
small as that minority was might be found
high and noble instincts, that pushed
themselves up through the poisonous soil.
and groped painfully upwards and on
wards to the light. Even here. as every.
where, might be found instances (rare
perhaps but still there) of brave patience.
endurance, and heroism under great stress
of suffering and misery and wrong.
Then, too, although in most Of those poor
nearly elbowed out any virtue that nature
might have originally planted, it must not
be overlooked that great as the sin was,
as great was the suffering; and who shall
say, if these poor souls had been born in
to the clover of this life, as regarded their
physical and moral surroundings. what
lair and delicate and beautiful blossoms
might not have expanded and bloOmed in
their natures
Mle-end was very old as well as a
very dirty place, and one particular house
in its principal street stood forward into
the road several feet beyond its neighbors,
its upper story quite overhanging the
basement. This house was so old that it
almost tottered when the wind blew-as 1t
| often did at Mile-end--even in spite of the
wooden props, themselves rotten now,
| with which it had been buttressed up.
But in spite. or perhaps because Of its age
and discomfort and dilapidation, it was
beautifully mellowed and harmonious as
in the tone of its coloring. Tufts of vivid
green moss. and yellow and gray liehen,
| at intervals cal lpeted and soltened the red
| tiles, and hardy clumps of orange wall
flowers filed up the gaps left by departed
bricks and mortar; thus throwing over
X
Gus veil of picturesque beauty. Within.
this house was cruelty old and cold and
comfortless; the beauty of decay was all
outside, and only It's stern realty existed
within its rail and draughty walls. There
were ten rooms in this house, VIII 'ch gave
shelter TO seven families. The noise and
brawling were incessaLt, never seeming
to stop night or day, for when at last the
sckly children were asleep, the night was
made hideous with the drunken blasphe-
mics and low quarrels OF the degraded
men and women and the reeking air was
thick and heavy with gin and tobacco and
disease.
In one of these rooms-it was in the
projecting upper story. which through an
unusualiywide window commanded view
all up and down the street-lay on a straw
pallet on the floor, barley covered with
an old patchwork quilt. boy OF about
fourteen, who, Judging from his constant
cough, labored breathing, aud emaciated
limbs, was in the last stages Of consump-
ton. Beside him on the same bed lay q
girl few years older than her brother.
fast asleep She was pale and thin and