The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1885-05-30
Written for the CHIEF.
WHEN THE SNOW COMES.

WHEN THE SNOW COMES.
BY LETHE.
"Oh, when the snow comes, 'Bur and
will have suoh jolly times,'' heard little
five-year-old exclaim not long since, and
my heart went out in full sympathy with
the little one in her childish fancies and
eager anticipations Of the glorious delights
that coming winter held in store for her.
Yes, she thought only of how her little
brother would gleefully pull her along the
sidewalks, enveioped in their mantle of
snow, on his fine sled; only of the sleigh
rides loving mamma and papa would give
her, when her eyes would glisten with de-
light at the merry jingle of the sleigh bells;
only of the fun she reaped from pelting
some unsuspecting passer by with right
hard SNOWFALL.
All, yes! reared to luxury, fondled and
caressed, treading on softest carpets amidst
the velvety softness of which her little feet
we're almost hidden, what could she know
Of aught the beautiful snowfakes could
NAAAA6 01sO IVY 0AN &A0OAOo0 w Lu0 yOuuX
heart? True, as she had stood at the win
dow watching them chase each other in
their whirling, rapid fight, she had some
times noticed little stray wanderer, girl or
boy, moving along in the snow shower, but
as their sufferings and wants had not come
within the scope of her young observation,
she knew little as yet of the sorrows the
pretty snow might cause. have more
venerable head on my shoulders, however,
and as belonged to Il club organized for
the purpose of dispensing charitable funds,
much of the anguish and distress of the un-
fortunate poor came under my view, and
vas practically acquainted with many cir
cumstances that brought tears to many
hearts even more staunch than mines I was
an ever welcome visitor at this little girls
home, and I thought would take her upon
my knee the next.winter evening spent in
their elegant parlors, and pour into her in
fantile ears tale or two of how some little
girls suffered from cold for want of dresses
and went hungry to bed for want of bread.
The opportunity occurred soon, and as she
sat on my lap after a sumptuous tea,
asked her if she wanted me to tell her
story. She clApped her dimpled hands with
glee and said" Oh, yes, Uncle Early, and
brother must listen tool" So, pretty soon
even mamma and papa were gathered about
the hearthstone to lend a listening ear to
the story related to the little folks. The
tale was as follows:
1t was in the winter of 1870 when re-
ceived notice to dispense certain sum in
charity at one of the tenement houses on
Baxter street, New York. Upon sending
my deputy he came back with the report
that there was ga terrible sight of work to
be done there, sure" Invent down myself.
and as entered the door very sad sight
presented itself. A poor motKer with five
little ones around her crying for something
to eat, and the wretched woman, not %ou{Y
half starved herself, but weeping over the
dead form of a boy about three years of
age lying on the straw mattress.
Ny dear woman, what is the matter and
why are your little ones in this condition?''
eagerly inquired.
"Oh, please, sir, she sobbed, "Jim has
never been home at all since day before Wis