The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-11-25

the years sentence, and, when come
out, I'll do as you've long begged of me
I'll turn honest, and work for you and
the little one with these arms like good
man. Keep away 1tom the major and
the miserable band you've been herding
with. Don't let them hunt you down,
as doubtless they'll try to do, and I'll
make 1t sunny and good for you when I
come OUT
ssBless you for those words, Pat MUIR
INJURED the poor thing in reply. ''Little
Dennis shall grow up an honest man,
after all. Good by good byp'
And, with last weeping embrace, he
was off for prison, while she slipped
quietly out of the court and disappeared.
But the internal major pursued the
wife as remerselessly as he had betrayed
the husband. Acting under his secret
orders, the gang Stunned, bounded and
maltreated her, and finally turned her
out of the wretched Five Points rookery
which she had occupied with a number
of them.
She was without money and reputa-
ton, miserably sick, and he weather was
snowy and cold. Nevertheless, she made
a hard fight for it, occupying any shelter
that she could beg, day after day, and
night after night, and seeking cease
lessly, persistently, to obtain honest en-
ployment.
But it was all in vain. She had no
character, by way of recommendation, to
start with, so the major and his crea-
lures gave her one. At every store, shop,
factory or household that she applied for
work, it was but to find that she had been
forestalIed by information. secretly sup
piled, concerning her criminal antece-
dents, which efectually set to naught
her claims and supplications.
At last she was desperate, hopeless,
without a friend and without home,
and in this pitiable plight was found,
one evening, crouching under one of the
high stoops in the neighborhood of the
Central Park by a policeman, who gruf-
y ordered her away, and advised her to
seek nights lodging at the nearest
station house.
But she gave no heed to his advice
perhaps being half crazed with her sui
terings-but wrapped her BABY still more
tightly under her poor, thin shawl, limp
and entered the park.
Out in the snow, under the bare trees,
in among the leafless. rustling shrubs,
sway up through the hillocks, did she
wander in the lifeless, deserted park,
which then must have seemed a wilder
ness, indeed, but more acceptable, more
inviting, than the peoplcd but heartless
streets, from which she Jared, with the
hunger in her body, and the despairing
misery in her soul. No one could inter
fere with her there or hunt her down, or
bid her move on, or laugh at her, or
taunt her with her past wickedness and
present frlendlessness.
Faster and faster fell the binding
snow, but it seemed to touch the earth
softly and tenderly, affording her the
covering and shelter that humanity re-
fused. It was bitter cold, and she tore
her shawl into strips to more thorough
ly wrap up her child, while rendering
her own poor shoulders defenceless TO
the shivering wind.
Then she huddled closely against
rock to keep off the drift, and cuddled
up about the child as near as she could
creep. And then, after the storm had
slackened, the moon came out and looked
pityingly on the forlorn pair.
The drift wh1rled faster and faster
over them to complete its work, and
then at last poor Jenny, the worlds for
saken waif, fell asleep forever under the
soft, white mantle of the snow, which,
like Charity's, covers each year such
multitudes of SINS.
The park policemen found her on the
following morning, at spot about two
hundreds yards north OF the Seventh
avenue entrance, frozen stiff. No stone
ever marked her grave, and four line
newspaper paragraph, with side head
ing, "Unknown woman found dead in
Central Park" was the only notice taken
of her death.
The child was ionnd still alive and
moving on the pulseless bosom that
would ncurish it no more, but it also
died on the third day thereafter from the
effects of the exposure, and that was the
last of them.
Scarcely a week after this event,
Harnden was set at liberty, and it CHANGED
that was the first acquaintance he met
upon his return to the city. I should
have mentioned that I had known him
from his boyhood, had deplored his evil
course, rejolced in his promise of reform,
and was now anxious that he should not
be tempted to go back upon his good 1eso-
buttons, while dreaded the effect that
would be produced upon him by the
news of his wife's and baby's pitiful
death, of which was certain he was as
yet totally ignorant.
My own duties had taken me away
from the city during the greater part of
Ills imprisonment, or I should certainly
hove endeavored to in some measure be-
friend the poor creatures, the particulars
of whose miserable fate, as l have just
described to you, I had only myself
learned day or TWO before thus meet
ing him at the depot upon his return
from prison.
AS soon as Harnden stepped from the
train and saw me, he grasped my hand
and dragged me into neighboring pub
lie house. where we entered private
room.
''Yoa see me return to the world a
changed man, Nc Ardlc, and I trust with
some years of happiness in store fo1 me,
he said, and noticed that he was looking
caDitallv with a clear manfnl Euht in