Frostburg mining journal., 1883-12-22
A TRUE CHRISTMAS STORY,
A MOTHERS HOPE AND DAUGHTERS CRIME
THE ROMANCE OF REALITY-ooLD AND
HUNGER, WARMTH AND PLENTY.

Saturday night Thousands of people filled
the streets and avenues. The shop windows
were brilliant with gas and electricity; light
and warmth everywhere on the inside; cold
and discomfort everywhere on the outside.
Express wagons dash here and there with
their freight Of holiday goods; the street cars
crackle, the elevated trains roar and every
thing is astir. Private carriages are driven
carefully through the press. The coachmen
are warm in fur and the horses are covered
with comfortable blankets. Stand on the
corner Of Sixth avenue and Fourteenth street,
where the crowd is densest, and watch while.
Women in warm fur lined cloals, women in
costly skins of animals, women in satin, wo-
men in cloth, some shivering with the scanti-
ness of their clothing. Men with bundles in
their arms and bundles hanging out of their
pockets; men without bundles and with very
few pockets to put anything in. A rushing
pushing, good natured throng going up and
down and across with unceasing catter. 1t is
practically Christmas Eve and everybody is
happy. Even the tramp rejoices at the ex-
pected liberality of the saloon keeper. Every.
body is smiling.
Everybody?
No; not everybody Standing back near
the corner and in the shadow of the house is
woman. Her clothes, Heaven help her,
would be scanty in September. Around her
body and head is wrapped plaid shawl, the
box within twenty feet of her would not use
to wipe the dust from his carriage; her hands
are bare and pale and thin; her hair is stringy
and gray; her face-despair.
Oh yes, but she's tramp, professional
beggar hundreds say to themselves as they
hurry by scarcely deigning to look at her.
But is she?
For an hour she has been standing where
she is and not once has she asked aims of any
one Presently, pushing through the crowd,
comes tall man with peculiar face. No
man in New York is better known. His pic
lures are to be found on every side, his name
is a household word where English is spoken.
His face is strong and hard; his eye has cold
glitter; he walks slowly, seemingly engrossed
in his own thoughts. But the great arch of
his forehead means benevolence, if the con-
formation of a mans head means anything.
People stare at him, policemen touch their
caps to him as he passes Slowly he comes
along, q marked man among thousands. He
nears the woman. Suddenly the eye that
seems to see nothing sees her. The grave face
looks graver. He turns out of the tide and
hands something to her. She is not quick
enough, and the coin rolls on the pavement at
her feet. The grave man stoops and picks it
up, despite her protest and puts itin her hand.
The long, thin fingers close over it. It is the
largest they have held for many day. The
PALE watery eyes fill with tears. The man
VI.
The woman remains. She looks at the
coin and seems to hesitate; then starts slowly
toward the west side Of the city with the money
in her hand. Despite her rags there is some
thing graceful in her walk; something peculiar
in the poise Of her head.
A pawnbrokers shop!
The narrow door swings on its hinges with
much creaking, for pawnbrokers' hinges are
nearly always rusty. Within q long counter
and At nna pn1 a nunnbnr of hoy gta1lg Re
hind the counter several men with bushy
boards and sharp, questioning eyes. Before
the counter molly throng, for it is Christmas
Eve to the pawnbroker, too. The requests for
advances are tremblingly made; the answers
are short, sharp and decisive. There is no APP
peal from the dread judgments Of these auto
Gratis of the poor.
"Sure, them two feather pillows is worth
more than seventy-fve cents" says little wo-
man scarcely five feet high. II guy four dol.
lars piece for them when my husband was my
husband"
"Seventy-ive cents or don't want them,"
was the clinching reply
'"Ihis ring cost eighty dollars" says wo-
man of better appearance than her neighbors.
'Fifteen dollars" was the laconic answer.
"Please, sir, will take this out" said the
woman from Fourteenth street, laying down
her bright silver dollar and ticket
"0h, you are here again after that picture,
are you2 Let me see, you had twenty-five
cents on it-four months interest and storage,
sixty CENTS" says the man, giving back the
change and little miniature of child and
its father. 'That's the fourth time that wo-
man has had that thing in" continued the
pawnbroker to one of the others. ~ suppose
you would rather get that out than eat, eh2"
"oh, sir, | prize It very highly. 1t is all !
have left Of happy days"