Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1884-01-01
A DEATH MESSAGE.


agent of the Western Union Telegraph
Company in little town on the line of tn,
Central Pacific Railroad, situated in Cali
fornis. Probably no other town in the
State contained more cutthrosts, thieve:
and vagabonds than the village which was
for the time to be my home. Gaming,
thieving, fighting, and in fact everything
in violation of law and order, seemed to
reign supreme and was 8 matter of daily
occurrence. Nearly every other building
on the main street was occupied almost ex-
clusively by the toughest Of humanity,
who piled their vocations with shocking
freedom. Women who had long since sur.
rendered their good names lived and
prowled through the dark back streets, lost
to all tue womanhood, to all sense OF
shame. The business in which l was en-
gagged brought me daily in contact with the
occupants OF these dens, as they frequently
and freely patronized the wires of the COM
pany. One night in November, the hour of
closing my office having arrived, l dis,
missed my messenger boy, who was only
too anxious to leave, Notwithstanding the
storm raging without. was 10th to
give up warm, comfortable room for a
tramp through the wind and snow. and
| therefore decided to remain until the storm
| had somewhat abated.
Becoming interested in bound volume
| of an Eastern monthly, two hours passed
quite pleasantly. The clouds having
broken and food Of moonlight thrown
over the village, was about preparing to
close the office for the night when Sacra-
mento quickly called my station. As l
had two hours previously received the reg
ulation good night from that office, l prob.
ably, from a dread of long walk through
| the snow, was almost tempted to leave
| without answering the call Standing in
| the center of the room with overcoat and
hat on, listened to the familiar signal 1t
seemed to increase in swiftness. it became
louder and more distinct. 1t almost
whispered important" and finally the
sending operator, as a last resort, slowly
wrote the worth Death. In an instant
L
which proved to be for one of the inmates
of dance house, situated in the upper
part of the town. 1t read as follows {;
d" To Miss Kitty, - - -. Come
| home Immediately. Mother is dying"
was soon vending my way through the
Snow covered streets towards the blue
| light which dimly shone in the distance
Reaching the steps Of the dive, l could
| plainly see that the establishment was in
full blast. A dozen girls, attired in their
gayest costumes, were skipping about the
room with the boys VINO had come down
| from the woods to throw away their hard.
earned wages. Stationed at the end OF the
room were the musicians, three in number,
seated on liquor barrels. And such music
| stood few moments watching the scene.
| Now and then | would see a rough looking
| customer, dressed in blue overalls and red
shirt, with revolver tucked in his belt,
clumsily waltziag with ore of the girls
When the music had ceased general rush
was made to the bar, girls, men aud must
clans all steaming up" as they were
wont to call it, for the next dance. At
this point l entered, and stepping to
the end OF the counter / asked
the proprietor if he could inform me
whether Miss Kitty - lived at his house.
He gruffly responded, "Don't know. 3"
Luckily, one OF the girls overheard my
question. She said that Kitty was sick in a
room up stairs, and requesting me to follow
her, we passed down the hall, then into a
smaller room. when the stairs were politely
shown me. There was no carpet to deaden
the sound or make easy the steps, and no
! ,o1 - Io b,,- ~,
rough ladder placed almost perpendicular
to an opening in the ceiling. Being ad-
vised by my guide that Kltty's room was
located at the end of the passage way on
the right hand side, made the ascent.
Cautiously cropping my way through the
narrow, unlighted hallway, l reached the
door OF Kitty's room. knocked. No an
swer. Again raped, and no answer.
Fearing that had been imposed upon,
tried the door, which found not bolted,
and, pushing it aside. l entered the room,
which was truly picture of desolatior
Two common chairs, a rough pine beds!esd
and cracker box improvised as a table con-
prised the entire furniture, while the floor
near the window was covered with the snow
which had drifted through the broken
panes OF glags. TIE dim light of a
small lamp, aided by the moonlight,
revealed Kitty lying upon the bed asleep
with coarse shawl over her shoulders. a
girl apparently not more than Is years of
age, fair accomplishment and well-featured-
one who would readily be called pretty-in
a dive of the lowest order, with no gentle
hand to administer to her wants, no kind
words to soothe her young heart without
money, sick and friendless. The heavy
thud OF the dancers below, combined with
the screeching of the violins, could but i'm
press me that entered the inner chamber
of his Satanic majesty, wherein lay
another victim, over whom the demons
were holding high carnival. Approaching,
gently awakened her, and on stating my
errand she exclaimed, "My, God, is there
anything wrong? 2" / handed her the tele.
gram without responding. She trembled
like an aspen. Her face, psled by sick
ness, seemed to grow whittier. Her eyes
searched mine for some response. Hand,
ing me the telegram unopened, she said,
/" For heavens sake, read it" With a
voice which / admit was not as firm as usual
read, "Come home Immediately, mother
icdying." Springing from the bed as if her
entire strength had returned, she grasped
my hand and imploringly asked 1t what l
had read was true, and then with a scream
which could have been heard throughout
the building, fell exhausted to the floor.
| endeavored to assist her to a chair, but
as she partly arose she took my hands,
knelt on the barren floor, and beseechingly
said /" For God sake, help me. l am sick,
l am without friends, | have no money.
In the name of God in heaven, if you will
leave me enough money to buy ticket, /
promise you ! will forever after lead a life
of virtue. will seek employment in some
private family, and the first money l earn
will be sent to you, mister. Do not say
no. For Ged sake; for the sake of my
poor old mother, send me home. :" She was
the very picture of distress-her blue eyes
suffused with tears, her delicate frame
trembling with emotion, and the tighten.
ing grasp of her hands, spoke, louder than
words, her sincerity. l could not refuse.
It was then hslf-past II o'clock. The
westward bound train was due at midnight
informed her there was no time to lose
She hurriedly packed a little worn
out valise, and we were soon walk.
ing through the dark passageway,
then down the steep ladder and out into
the street. Fortunately there was side
entrance, thereby obviating the necessity
of passing through the dance hall, which
was now taxed TO its fullest capacity, hay