Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1886-12-17

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Obscure Heroes ana Horoinos.I
From the Family Hera Id.
We have them all around us, these
obscure heroes and -hero Dimes, and On.
|ly those who 90 behind the scenes and
see the secret life 81 our swarming pop
nlations can tell tho truth about the
Hover Of our race. We will leave the
didactic path il which We mostly trav.
81 and speak for little Of bare facts.
We wish to show those who faint by
the way that there 81 are bright ex-
amples among us OF priceless souls
who are content to live and toll and
die obscure. Look at this first pic
hard, ridgid truth, soberly accurate
as an etching Of Rembrandt. You
pass through q hideous London
slum; the oil lamps flare and
flicker in the wind; the hoarse
hawkers shrek. the ragged children
cry shrilly, and from the public houses
come the confused babble of laughter
and cursing and the rank watts Of
acrld smoke. Blowzy women, drag.
gled women, brazen women, drunken
women, pass you; ugly male nightbirds
scowl at you with savage eyes; foul
mouthed young girls mere children,
alas!- salute you with impudent con-
fidence, and the night is full Of rank
odors and bleared lights. You enter
narrow alley, watching carefully the
maneuvres of the skulking creatures
who SLOUGH around with bumped
shoulders and evil gaze. A door
opens and you are in the midst of a
strange assemblage. A bevy of women
gather around some long tables and
watch you with dull curiosity. Here
is one who is pinched with hunger; her
thinAngers are knotty at the joints,
herhair is wofully scanty, and she looks
beaten, bloodless, sorrowful. Here is a
boldcreature who meets your look with
hard, brutal stare; she has heard the
chimes at midnight. Here is a speci-
men OF the ordinary, dirty. garrulous
trollop, so freely produced in the will
derness of London. Here is mere
female animal, a. creature without
soul, who sits callously glowering at
vacancy. A coarse laugh sounds out
harshly and then a quiet voice with
the tone of a mellow bell scars along
the low room, and instantly the disor-
der is stilled. You move to the head
OF the room and you are greeted by
white-haired woman dressed IN black.
Her eye is like steel, her lips are COM
posed, her forehead is very placid, and
her manners are the manners of
great lady. She is fit to move in any
assembly in the world, and her digni-
ty would draw the eyes of men and
women wherever she went. Beautiful
she has been, and the exqui-
site remains OF her fairness re-
mind you OF some splendid building
grown gray with stress ofyears. When
she speaks you hear that indefnable
accent which is attained only by those
who live among ultra.refned people
from their earliest years. A lady this
of the highest breeding. You feel as if
you were in the presence of a queen,
yet she puts you at ease instantly,
and falls into conversation with pol
ished grace. Witty she is in a subtle
way, and her wit is so strangely
blended with pathos as to present a
unique product of intellectual chem
istry. She knows the world, and can
flash out an occasional speech worthy
of the salon rather than OF this
dingy shed; but the ruling aspect
OF her face and the essential tones
of her voice are those of one to
whom the affairs of the world are of
small moment. She masters the evil
assemblage in front OF her, and the
boldest slut that ever disgraced her
sex is reverential toward the grave,
kind lady whose will dominates all:
AS you talk, she tells you Of her work.
This refuge is open every night for the
homeless, and her duty is to help
those who are poor,to heal those who
are sick, to raise with loving, merci-
full words and deeds those who are
fallen. None is too base for this love-
ly, all-embracing charity; and, as she
sits there, she seems like the spirit of
goodness made flesh. Romances in
plenty she can tell, and she does so
with soft, matrer-of-fact sweetness.
Every form of human wretchedness is
know to her, and her eyes are fixed day
by day on sights of woe. Does she
ever leave that fearful quarter? New
er! Think of that O, Disseminated,
pulling folk! This lady, who was once
beautiful, rich, courted, has given up
all for the sake of working benefcent-
ly in the weary world, and she passes
her days in an appalling London slum.
Lords and ladies of her own class see
her, but they remain only for little
time; she stays at her post with still
constancy, and bears the squalor, the
ennui, the loathsome sights and
sounds, the recital of wringing records
Of misery. She is content even to
forego her name, and her very identity
has persisted from the brilliant world
that once knew her. 81 am sister
Zillah," she says with her courtly
smile, and that is all. Here is one
who is an honor to London, to Eng
land, to the human race, toiling OBJ
scurely in q place where even men of
the better class hardly dare venture.
Thus far the poets words have led us.