Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1886-10-03
LITTLE
BUSY BEES OF BOSTON'S HIVES WHERE
MANY TOLL.
Girls and Boys Who Earn Their Own Living, and
How They Do Instances from the
Streets and Shops.
Boston GlOR.

Boston Globe.
There is an old and true saying that
''one-half the world doesn't know how the
other half lives" and no doubt it's a wise
provision of nature that ordalns this gen.
eral o~bliviousness, which seems so appall-
ingly like deliberate selfshness. If we knew
all that was going on in the world In the
way of suffering, sorrow and sin, we could
have no peace-that is if we have any
hearts, and of course we have; you and l,
at n rate At the same time, 1t wouldn't
hurt any of US to take a little more interest
in the daily life of some of those about us,
and / often if the children of the rich ever
think how the children of the poor live.
You little girls and boys who have no
end of toys and good clothes, and all you
want to eat and drink, who fret and fume
and cry because, although you have almost,
YOU can't have quite everything, do you
ever stop to think of the children who have
nothing And you whose fathers and
YOU whose fathers and mothers. though
not rich, perhaps, have comfortable homes,
and give you all and more than you need,
when you are envying the children who
wear velyets and satins, do you ever think
of the children who wear rags? When you
cry for candy, do you think OF those who
cry for bread?
Well, there are, alas! n great many such
right here in Boston.
But they1are not the ones | am going to
tell you about now. l am going to tell
you of the little workers, the little men
and women OF affairs.
1t would seem odd, wouldn't it, to think
Of little brother Bobby, who is only six, or
the dainty tot Bess, who is seven, going
out to business at daybreak and staying
out all day and perhaps way into the night:
And it would make you sad. But there
are little workers Just as young aud Just as
bright and pretty as they are; and just as
happy, too, some Of them.
Did you ever pass by Whites or Jordan
& Marsh's, Zinn's or Houghton & buttons
a little after 6 in the evening? II you have,
you must have noticed a little regiment OF
boys or girls, or both, filing out of the
great doors. In fact, you couldn't help
noticing them. You might rs well try TO
ignore y swarm OF DeeS.
Not that these busy little bees of children
are peStiferOus. Far from it, They are US
harmless as the sunshine or the birds, and
a good deal more so thar the English spar
rows, though they do chirp and chatter
as they hurry hOmeward from all the world
like so many sparrOws fluttering back at
night to the b~ird-hOuseS i'll the big trees OF
| the Common. And, when you saw them,
did a thought come to you of the homes to
which they were going? Very nice homes
some of them have-not handsome, OF
course, but neat and coy and comfortable.
But look at that pale, delicate, wOrn-look-
ing slip OF a girl.
All day long she has run hither and yon
at the incesSant cry of Cash! c-a-S-h!'
and she is so tired she can hardly stand.
She was at her post ready for duty at >
O'Clock in the morning. You say that's
not very early, that you were up long be-
fore that. But did you have a poor, help
less, invalid mother to watch over all night
and to care for in the morning? This hit
tie Cash" had all that-the breakfast TO
cook, the one room to put in order, the sick
mother to make comfortable for the day,
and then 20 to work and work till night to
earn the p~ittance that is to keep the roof
over their heads and the bread In their
mouths. And tomorrow and every day
but Sunday she must do the same thing
over again. Poor little Cash! No WON
der she looks so tOrlOrn.
But the faces of these little workers are
in the main bright and happy, and their
voices merry enough. In fact, taking them
rs 4 whole, you do not feel that they call
for any particular cOmmiSeratiOn. They
are altogether too Jolly for that, and prob
ably wouldn't thank you if you offered it.
One OF the most pitiful sights OF a great
city is the spectacle of a small child wan
dering about late at night, vainly trying to
sell some such trifleS as collar buttons.
pencils or matches. You well-brOught-up
children are never out late enough to see
them. but they may be seen IT night on
any street. Poor little waits of humanity
with no homes worth mentioning. Their
perSiStency makes them Il nuisance, and At
the same time they seem so pathetic that
your papa puts his hand in his pocket n
pulls out iivecentS Though he doesn't take
the collar button, pencil OF matches), when
they whine ont Buy some matches?
Please do! If | don't sell EN- all I'll get
beat when 90 home. Won't yer, pleaSe:'
Of course pap doesn't know whether the
little..wretches are telling the truth or not,
and he more than half thinks they are iy-
ing. But five cents isn't much and he
isn't going to shoulder the responsibility
Off thraShing, however remote, for such Il
poor little atom, particularly II it happens
to be a girl, tor he remembers his own
little golden-haired darling at home that's
you, and a great lump comes into his
throat at the bare possibility of his pet in
such Il place.
But he swallows il down-nOt the posi-
bility, hut the lump-as he puts IN extra
nickle into the grimy little Outstretched
palm, and passes, on softly humminS to
himself, "Home, home, sweet, sweet
home,n
Then there is ''raking alter'-yOu know
what that is-and apple gathering, and
many other wholesome kinds of outdoor
work for the little rusticS. And down by
the sea you will find droveS Oflittle urchinS
up to their knees in mud, digging the sue
culent clam; or with their bare brown legs
dangling off the wharyeS, patiently sitting
in the sun, waiting for the fish TO be.
But it is of the little workers that live
in the city that ! I'm thinking more par
ticularly just now.
Here in town the Italian colony furnishes
a large contingent of our little merchants,
the city's diminutive dealers in fruits and
flowers, precOciouS purveyors of monkeys
and music. One of the lOvelieSt creatures
| ever set eyes on is a little dark-haired,
dark-eyed, Olive-skinned daughter, or may
hap granddaughter, of sunny Italy, who
goes about beating a tambourine in the
wake of an organ-grinding grandmother,
or some sun-baked old crOne who is ancient
enough to be her grand or ever her great
grandmother, if she isn't.
The child has the face of woman, a sad
Madonna-like face, and you can scarce
orad;f tho foot that che IL hnt n child