Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1879-02-15
A SCENE FROM REAL LIFE
and Mother Weeping Over the
Child Charity Must Bury =. No
Work, No Money, No Food,
No Doctor, No Medi-
cine and No
Baby.

New York Graphic.l
Filth and squalor do not constitute
the whole ofNew York's poverty, and
many suffer keenly to-day who have
never known what it was to be poor.
On the hard and narrow table of the
rear room ofa Broome street tenement
there lay this morning the dead body
OF a boy whom many a fashionable lady
would have been glad to call her own,
and of whom any mother would have
been proud. The story was told short
~ enough by a neighbor who said;
They didn't have money enough to
pay the doctor, so he wouldn't come,
and they hayn't a cent with which to
buy a coffin. The evidences of the
truth of this sad statement 'were
at hand. The carpetless floor was
scrupulously clean, but it held no ar
ticle of furniture except the table now
used as a bier and the little freless
stove on which rested the cups and
plate, on which some kind-hearted
fellow-tenant had sent in all that
either of the two parents of the dead
child had eaten for many hours. The
atmosphere was as cold as the hands
of the dead child, and the wailing cry
Of the mother could be heard from
the street. Tackled with a big iron
nail on the center of the door of No.
30 Broome street we're a couple of
yards of the white material ladies use
for ruching. 1t was not new, and its
resemblance to Grape was feeble. In
its center was fastened a bow of white
satin with a corded edge of a fashion
twenty years ago. 1t was evidently a
gift from the hoardings of some friend
ly neighbor. The tenement is a five
story brick and iron-hnished structure
of the better class, erected in the last
half-dozen years, whose windows look
in M direction down into the dirty
shlp-building docks and across in the
wilderness of williamsburg, and in
the other direction into the great East
Side of New York. No prettier child
of three years eYer lay on a princely
bier than the little lifeless form
stretched out on this wreck of a bare
table. The white face was finely
lined, and the head was high and wide,
with a total absence of the bullying
forehead so common to many chill
dren. Harvey died" said the
mother, Mrs. Stewart, because we
did not have money to pay for pro-
per attention. He had too much
head, and as soon as the disease got
hold of him it went right to his
brain" Then she burst into another
flood Of tears, and walled "Oh. he
was the last He was all | had"
Friends had come from unexpected
quarters, and Miss Amelia Hosky, a
little airy, young Russian lady. had
collected s. toward the funeral ex-
penses and was waiting for the mother
to come down in search of the ad-
ditional money to cover the expenses
of the simple funeral, The mother is
a pl~easant-lOoking matron of thirty or
more blonde, with pink and white
cheeks she has helped to exc out her
husbands scanity income BY carving
a basket of apples through the Offices
in Trinity buildings. Two months
ago she lost the second of three chill
dren, and since then the last one has
been her constant companion on her
cold rounds, and in that way he
probably met his death, which was
caused either by Group or diphtheria.
When they found him. as they
thought, choking to death on FRIDAY
evening, and Daniel Stewart ran for
the nearest doctor, he refused to come
without his pay. The physician who
at last came said Z" You'd better get
another doctor" and they spent their
last fifteen cents for the prescription
he gave them.
The landlady of the house in which
they live said this morning that both
husband and wife were sober and in
dustrious people, and that their Sc so
monthly rent was paid as promptly as
they could doit when her husband
lost his work and she only made a few
cents with her apples" she said, then
| got it 81 or ten shillings at a time.
as fast as they could put it by. He
never drank anything, only he couldn't
get any work. They're very decent
people, sir, and have great trouble.
and then the tears began again to flow
from the eyes hat were already
swollen and red with weeping.
Daniel Stewart is a tall and sturdy
New Yorker, a native of the Western
part Of the State. His wife came of
a well-to-do Virginia family. and they
met and married at Pittsburg. He Is
a man 46 years Of age, of apparently
something more than ordinary educa.
ton, able and willing to work. Re
duced to the necessity of driving a car
on a Pittsburg line, he lost his place
and his Oldest child at about the same
time. He came to New York in
November, and his recommendations
and a letter from the Pittsburg Com
pany secured him immediate employ
ment on the Grand street line. When.
with the beginning Of winter, cars
began to be dropped, he, as among the
last to come, was among those first TO
go. His name was kept on the list,
and he had an occasional car until
two weeks ago, when it was complete
ly dropped. This morning, he said
I'm poor, but I'm honest and sober,
and | only want work. Last night the
men on the road came and wanted to
have a wake, but i said No, III have
no drinking or carousing over my dead
boy and they went away and | sat
with him all night alone" Perhaps
certain angels Of God shared his vigil
with him;
The Pot Of Gold.
"a cobbler in Somersetshire
dreamed that a person told him if he
would 90 TO London Bridge he would