Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1880-01-07
EMPTY HANDS.

OUT WlSuluS 10 lUIIaI0 bHo stylo VI
Young, author of Night Thoughts; but
merely from natural inclination to
draw comparisons, like to consider and
ponder upon the reverse of joy as mani
Tested by the people.
Therefore, as | meandered down the
long line of boulevards, yesterday.
through the crowds of people laden with
toys and packages tied with red cord
and exhaling the odor of oranges,
began to reflect upon the condition of
those whom the New Year finds with
"Empty Hands"
Stopping before humble little table
covered with blue paper and spread with
miserable melting candies, | wrote this
Ballad in Prose by the light of red
paper lantern. May its perusal, cbarita-
BILE reader, remind you that the " Box
for the Poor" is not far distant at the
time, when in Paris there are so many
innocents who have not full handsl
Come, look at this, little girl, who
hovers about the brilliantly lighted
shops. How her eyes glisten. The
stiff and elegant dolls do not deign to
shed on her one ray of their enamalIed
chances.
Alasl no, the poor little one is
unworthy of a dolls smile, And why
should the penniless child crave smile
from the beautiful lady in pink gauZe,
with shepherdess' hats and without
counting her hopes, worth thirty-eight
sous at least2 1t would be but an
aggravation. That real fur kitty with
his almost living eyes would not permit
the little unfortunate to caress him.
Fie upon theml The little cast-iron
kitchens want no such beggarly cook
Away Cinderella!
The unhappy little creature turns and
returns before the glittering display.
Paradise at a fixed price, and heart
nearly burstingl
She sees the purchasers take away,
one by one, all OF the admirable things
coveted by her so innocentIy. Gentle
men and ladies handle with remarkable
carelessness objects which, it seems to
her, should be touched only with respect
and love.
Lost in the heart of the crowd, pushed
about and shivering with cold, she sees
the toys so ardently desired depart from
her sight.
They take away the beautiful lady
with the shepherdess hat, they put the
kitty into box and they wrap up the
kitchens in paper.
All goes, all is taken. At last the
nightgowns disappear in their turn.
And tomorrow this poor child will
find none of the beautiful toys upon her
bed which are given to many with lavish
profusion.
The agony in this young heart is
something that battles description. Poor,
little Empty Handsp'
Here the scene changes. Let us ascend
to the fifth floor of house in the Rue
Croulebarde in the QUARTER Monffetard.
A man with q clean but threadbare
working blouse has just preceded us into
a garrett where two children, together
with woman, are crouching over fire
of cinders burnt once already by others
"No money!" says the father, showing
a loaf, "but see, here is something to
eat"
He sits down; he cuts the bread and
distributes the slices. They eat silently.
Sand the workshop?'
"ClOsed. The patron in Belgium.
Work will begin again in eight days"
No complaining; no cursing nor
swearing; only calm distress.
The woman is sick,-convalescen if
you 1.-THE man without work. They
have spent some of the five franc pieces
which they had saved. The auxiliary
bureaux of the Mont de Pete have
taken the rest. They are poorly off in
deed!
These poor children will not have ev-
horl for tha.~ HoEIe-c
A little soup for the sick mother would
have been a most acceptable gift. But
there ia nothing here with which to
make it. What hard life!
In the house all is dark. In the street
all is sombre. A deep silence futters
over all.
"Let us go to bed" says the man,
"we shall be warmer"
"Papa," softly asks one child, "why
don't Santa Claus come this year,"
"Oh!" gravely interrupts the elder
boy, "They have probably closed the
workshop where he worked"
And their father brushes aside q tear
while sadly regarding his wife-poor,
rude empty hands!
Empty hands and empty pocketsl
Such is the condition of young man
passing us, stiff as poker, in the crowd.
Let us follow him. He is a fellow
of talents poet. He would fain be
rich, but at present he has not sou.
Literary work is poor pay. Moreover,
his shoes are worn out. This is detail,
but terrible one, for he is on his way
to house where he dimes regularly once
8 month. And, forsooth, to cover the
holes in his shoe, he dips his foot in the
mud. The wet foot is chilled, but
"honor is saved"
In the hospitable nome where he is ex-
pected, are two young girls,-angels, or
nearly so--a double rock upon which
his resignation is about to be ship
wrecked. When he enters the room
filed with visitors and perfumed with
an agreeable fragrance from bags and
boxes of bon bons, he is barricaded by
the bright eyes. They speculate on the
probable contents of his pockets. Vain,
searching glancesl Cruel though inno-