The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1884-05-10
OUR LETTER FROM BRoADsRym


Chose me to grow with the corn"
---The Spectator
OUR LETTER FROM BROADBRIM
Starvation in the Midst of Plenty-A Build
ing Notwithstanding Changes-sail-
ing of the Greedy Relief Expedition-Mr
4 Abbey's Benefit-A Remarkable Trial,
NEW YORK. May /, 1881.
1t is only few days since wheat, which
is supposed to be the barometer of standard
values, touched the lowest point it has
seen for twenty years. Yet at the very
moment that New York and Chicago were
trembling for fear their granaries would
not be large enough to hold the golden har-
vest of 1884, miserable wretch who could
find nothing to eat in this great city,
jumped overheard from a Fulton ferry
boat, determined to end his existence He
was not drunk; he was not dissipated; but
he was mortal hungry, and he had read.
somewhere, "Come unto me, all ye that are
weary and heavy laden;" and he was weary
and the load of a miserable and starving
life was more than he could bear, SO he
sought the pitiless river. When the cry
was raised, IA man overboard!" hundreds
leaped to their feet, all anxious to see the
little speck that struggled in the foam in
the ferry boats wake. Every one wanted to
throw him something stool, or an oar,
Or life preserver-but singuIarly enough,
after they had fshed the poor wretch up all
dripping from the river and heard that he
had not eaten morsel for three days, not
one Of the entire company thought of
finging him dollar which, at that par
ticular moment, would have been worth all
the life preservers that were ever made of
cork or India rubber. This unfortunate
had committed crime against
the peace and dignity of the State of New
York, exceeding pretty larceny, but not
quite equal to highway robbery. He had
attempted to take his own life, and the law
says man cam t do as he likes with his own.
so they sent him to the penitentiary for six
months. This may look little rough, for
the mans life was worth nothing to him
nor to any one else, but in going to the
penitentiary he will find compensation in
the fact that at least he will get food and
shelter, and that is something society did
not accord him while he was free and an
innocent man. He had to become Grim
nal before the constituted authorities
could find law to give him anything to eat.
Never in the history of the city has there
been greater activity in building than
1t the present time. It is within bounds
% say that the buildings erected in the past
year have cost fully thirty millions of dol
ars, the Mutual Life building, the Produce
Exchange, the Cyrus Field building on
he site of the old Washington Hotel, and
me or two others, footing up one-third of
he entire sum.
It is singular to notice the drift of trade |
n this city. Fifty years ago the Post office |
vas in the City Hall Park in little build
ng forty feet long by twenty-five wide,
Exactly opposite the present Staots Zeitunq
building. Then we no more thought of |
laving German paper in New York than
ge did of having Chinese paper. The
Astor House was just completed and the |
Park was business center. Then the |
oost-ofice went down town, and the Astor
House, under whose mahogany Webster
nd Clay, Calhoun and Jackson stretched |
heir legs, became second-class hostelry. |
The Post-ofice drifted back to the other
nd of the Park, and property which for
fifteen years had been dead as door nail,
,ot boom that sent it kiting to the clouds,
nd now it is impossible to get a price on
ny piece of property about that neighbor-
ood.
But one of the most singular things is to
bserve how the leprosy of crime affects
roperty. When was quite small boy
here were places on Ann street where gam
ling was carried on. I am no chicken
ow, but the gambling houses are there
till. Parties have risen and fallen; men
ave come and gone; gamblers have lived
nd died; but the business still goes on in
he same old shops. There is place on
'arclay Street as well known as the City
[all OR Central Park. Millions have been
'on and lost there, but the police never
now of its existence. 1t was at this den
I'D Dancer the gambler made such fab
lous fortune; but gambler as he was, he
as anxious that his children should never
now their fathers shame. He parted
rom them in infancy, and his two daugh-
rs were reared in schools far away from
ome.> At last the old man died, leaving
is two daughters nearly million of dol
IFS. Though the girls led the most blame