The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1880-01-28

NO, l7MLDEN ALLEY.


md the River Thames. Right TO the
east are the populeas neighborhoods OF
Stepney, Poplar and Commercial Road
East; while not.se very far to the west is
the comparatively respectable business
quarter of the first city of the world.
Golden alley is narrow lane turning
out of long street which leads direct
from Whitechapel to the water-side-
bit of eld- werld London, whose wooden
houses are chiefly rented by old-clothes
sellers, fried-6sl men and cheap tobac-
conists. Atone end is large public
"The Star OF the East"-a great place Of
meeting for Jacks ashore and their IN
savory Polls and Sues; and then comes
old square, once inhabited by merchants
and professional men, whose almost pa
latial dwellings, are now let in lodgings
to leather cleaners, needlewemen, arti
fcial flower makers, mysterious individ
uals who viii tell you how to make
your fortune on receipt of twelve stamps,
and t'I .~t
''Dark-eyed girls.
With their hair in curls,
VINO work at the sewing machine"
Jews live in the square; and to tell the
truth, it is the presence of the children
of Israel alone which makes the square
respectable. True, they are grasping
hard at bargains, and their wives and
daughters are as fond of dress as was
Jezebel of old; but then the Jews are
honest, sober, industrious, and particu.
larly careful of their good name, which,
alas! is not always the case with the
lower order Of Christians.
So you see that Golden alley is by nc
means aristocraric, and scarcely respect
able; and perhaps you are disgusted
with me for Introducing you to such a
low locality at all; but the old place is
very dear to me, for in II Golden alley
I was born, and there lived the early
days of my life. / despise man who ia
ashamed of his birthplace; it is so mean,
so cowardly-almost as bad as being
ashamed OF ones parents. How can we
help where we are born! Though l am
writing this story in a pleasant old house
d., "on ths borders OF far-fsmed Berkshire,"
Where my neighbors. chiefly small far
mers, think me somebody because l am
independent" and better educated than
themselves, am never too proud to own
that my father was green-grocer, and
kept shop in Golden alley, in the par
ish Of WhitechapeL
Father was a Berkshire man, and
mother was from royal Windsor. They
were unsuccessful with the farm they
took after their marriage, a nd came to
London with Just sufficient money to
open the shop in Golden alley. There
for many years they lived and prospered,
and there I came into the world-a
feeble, sickly infant, whom friendly gos-
sips said: "Would never live to see
trouble" The gossips were wrong. 1
have "seen trouble" and am alive, and
'4ikely to live" In those days l was
looked after by an elder sister; poor little
Polly; she died at eight years old, being
scarcely three at the time-of whom l
have not the slightest recollection. Yet
often think of her-it is so strange to
think Of one who loved you before you
had sense enough to return her affectionl
] think Of her carrying me about in her
tiny arms, as l have often seen little
girls, even younger than poor Polly.
forced by necessity to become "liltle
mothers'' to heavy baby brothers.
Somehow, / safely passed through the
dangers attending infancy, and grew into
feeble delicate boy too weak to share
in the rough sports of other children. ]
was left very much to myself; for mother
was always busy in the shop, and father,
having to attend early markets, gener-
ally took his sleep in the daytime. Yet
I was very happy; and at cheap school
received the rudiments of an education,
which, thanks to the leisure l have since
enjoyed, has enabled me to pass for q
great scholar in my Berkshire home.
can almost fancy see the old shop
as / am now writing. There were no
windows, but two large, open spaces on
each side of the door; apples. oranges,
etc.. being set out on a stall on one side,
while the more substantial specimens of
tho vegetable kingdom strewed the floor
ON the other, Our parlor was but the
back part of the shop; and there, when
the shutters were up, we would sit Of a
night, father and mother, talking Of the
time when they would be able to retire
and live in their native county.
We were much alone. Our neighbors
we're a low, ignorant set, at the best,
working hard enough all day, and spend
ing their evenings at the taverns and
cheap music halls. One of the houses in
the "alley"-the corner house opposite
''The Star of the East"-had a very bad
name. 1t was as quiet as the grave in
the day time, door closely shut, blinds
down, and scarcely sign of inhabitants
within; but when the night time came,
and the gas was fariDg in the streets,
lights appeared in the upper rooms, with
sounds Of music and drunken revelry,
which often lasted until daybreak. There
were queer stories about that house. The
police knew it; sailors had entered with
their wages in their pockets and came
away penniiesg in fact, 1t was a house TO
be shunned even by the by no means
over-scfupulous inhabitants of Golden
alley.
One Of the "ladies" of that house was
a certain Mrs. Miller, who often made