The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1885-04-24
ENvoI.
LIZ.

Inc woman VINO Sald the WORD
leaned back in her luxurious armchair
and buried her face in costly lac
handkerchief, whose price was a gcot
three months wages of many of tn
poor mlll-operatives whose lot sh,
sometimes envied-the lot of tn,
weary working mothers with the rosy
checked babes in their arms. Theil
children lived, her child, her idol, died
How cruel fate was when life was sc
beautiful, its future so rose-colored,
its path so soft and sheltered. She
was beautiful woman, about forty,
dressed in q rich lustrous silk, with
rare old lace and diamonds. She had
known only luxury and wealth in her
girlhood, and her husband had with
loving care gratified her every wish.
After ten years of wedlock a baby
came. Two months ago that blue
eyed, fair-haired little girl died after
six years OF life in a happy world to
her. Then the stricken father and
mother closed their home and tray
eled. He having business came to
Lewiston and they took rooms in the
best hotel, where they had been two
weeks.
Lewiston is busy town for Maine,
the air is heavy with the black, foul
breath of the great mill chimneys, and
rcsounds to the eternal whirr, hum,
and jar of machinery. The streets at
early dawn and early dark are filled
with a throng of human beings-a tide
that is flood at morn and ebb at night.
Over the payements there comes for
half an hour patter, rush like the
noise of the mills, as regular and
mOnotOnOus-men women and chill
dren-wee children-laws are better
now. This was years ago. The men,
and women of that generation among
the won king class, did not know how
to read or write. There were too !
many mouths to feed, besides the CITY
was full of ignorant emigrants, the
refuse from other lands.
''Why 'ud the chilun want schooiin'? |
We never had none. We've lived |
'thout it," they said sullenly. Their
brains were dulled and deadened with
roar and rattle of machinery; their
eyes dim with watching threads; their
hearts, like their hands, hardened by
six days toll the year around
Mrs. Morgan. that lady by birth and
breeding, cultured and refined, envied
the working women, whyP All,
mother love was in her heart, yearn-
ing for the clasp of clinging hands, the
tender kisses of little rosy mouth,
the pressure of a soft cheek.
"What is that tramping in the morn
ing at half past iiveP" she asked the
housekeeper.
1.-THE mill hands, num-" that
worthy answered, proud to be MOTTO
ed.
'They goes by here to work. The
owner of the hotel tried to make 'em
go another way. but laws, 'merica's a
free country, n if they is workIn' i
creeturs. they has as much right to the :
sidewalk as emmy of us has, The i
housekeeper was communistc. 8
Early the next morning the tramp $
began and Mrs. Morgan jumped from G
Ter bed, threw over her shoulders a |
loft, clinging, white cashmere, fairy
ike with swansdown, and peered I
through the blinds at the mass OF hui G
nanity that went on, on, pail in hand, D
yes looking downward, bowed heads. f
seldom cheerful greeting. She was d
urning away in weary pity, when a d
merry lutte laugh struck her ear. Oh, =
hat laugh! Through the window,
ibove the babal of sound, those clear \
notes, from a child's happy heart. so n
ike, so like the little dead child's! n
The mother threw open the blinds j
nd looked down. A dozen or twenty Ii
mall girls We're crossing the street, T
With dinner pals too, for they were o
1orkers. 1t was n foggy morning, a,
With the foul, unwashed odor of a b.
ity's awakening, cold, gray dreari- Sc
ess of earth and sky, but the sun fc
eeped out from cloud, slyly, and
hyly as if, the sluggard he was, m
shamed of lying abed so late and re- bl
entent, half determined to throw the
loud bedclothes aside. and get up to OF
york like the rest. The ray struck fu
hat one little face, and frightened m
he blue eyes and yellow hair. She sh
las wee thing, n few steps behind al
ne rest her legs too short to keep up. tn
he held her sunbonnet over her back hi
y the strings, and minute tin pail ar
| her hand She was singing and
lughing, Overlooking with the happy M
fe that even the mill could not crush &c
ON her nature. She looked up to M
e window, she always did, for she ce
I'd seen at night lovely children in
o lighted rooms. She did not know
heaven, or of happier lots than hers. Sa
lie had manufactured a story of that M;
use that no older mind could inter- Co
ct. She thought, poor little soul, WI
at if she worked good and quick,
d tended baby afterwards at night,
might go to the place behind the a
4 i