Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1888-05-16
CHARITY HOSPITAL
SAD SCENES AMONG AN UNfOR-
tUNATE GLASS OF PEOPLE.


two I,arties-one to visit the penitentiary
and in there the beautiful work which
t1lzaieih Fry initiated. the other to the
Charity IA, spital: and with the latter l
went small room is set apart there
Tor the Use of the mission. The tables in
II were already covered with baskets Of
fruit glasses of jelly, bottles Of beef tea,
cans of oysters. and various other deli
earies By each basket lay a number of
papers and religious tracts. After brief
religious services the ladies separated,
each taking her own basket and reading
matter to the ward she was assigned to-
Here. under this one roof, are 800 human
beings in every conceivable stage of
suffering The pangs of poverty are in
creased hundred fold when disease
seizes in its cruel clutches the unhappy
victim Few people are fortunate enough
to escape the knowledge of bodily pain.
Most indeed. can recollect at least one
season of physical wretchedness. To be
sure. there was a soft bed and shaded
windows. skilled care and loving atten
tiors. doctors who said pleasant things and
appeared by magic. and a thousand in
genious surprises to create an appetite or
win smile With all that. something
like shudder comes over one at the
thought of repetition Of the experience.
To go through ward in the Charity hos
pitaI convinces you that the primer of
misery has yet to be mastered by the rest
of US. Imagine yourself on narrow and
lumpy bed the light from u row of big
windows beating in your eyeballs. the feet
of the convalescents shuffiing and scuf
fling over the bare floor. the whitewashed
walls. devoid of even wall paper pattern
to be deciphered. the callous young doctor
to whom you are but bit of experience.
and the food such that if well your
stomach and senses would revolt at it.
As TO flowers. books. music and bright
colors. they come only in dreams.
After all no amount of moralizing brings
the truth home like a single individual
case. and there was one patient in par.
ticular that made profound impression
upon me-a girl in the last stages of con
sumption Illness had robbed her face of
tht coarseness it may have had in health.
Through the veil that death is drawing
over it shine splendid black eyes and a
skin painfully brilliant in coloring. A
heavy mass of short black hair falls over
her forehead. nearly meeting the large
dark brows that seem to have been
painted rather than grown on the marble
skin There is something curious and
shocking in this dread makeup" of dis
ease that reminds one of the stage. but
there is no counterfeit presentment Of
health in the long emaciated hands that
lie so nervelessly on the bedquilt. By
the side of the bed is little stand; upon
II Bible and mug of water-that is all
Mary was breathing in low gasps Her
lips were parched. her eyes despairing
Suddenly they fell upon the visitor. In
moment she was transformed. When that
visitor laid ou the little table . slice Of
ordinary white bread and butter and
big orange the girl half raised herself on
her elbow to look her gratitude The
luxury expressed in that slice Of bread
and butter no one can imagine until they
look AT tho dark. sticky stuff CREASED over
that is called by that name in the hos
ptal Then the gentle missionary read
aud talked to the girl. who listened
eagerly "No,one else comes to see me
but YOU she said. simply. and the days
and nights are so long
is there anything you would likes'
asked the lady
"Yss ma am, II you please. ] should
so like little mixed candy" said the dy.
ing girl You see. the medicine tastes
So bad. and We don't have nothing to take
after il The candy was promised. and
with her heart in her voice the lady ut
tered little prayer and left the sufferer
composed and comforted 1t is a dark
day in patients life when the doctor
says she may have anything she likes
that is that visitors choose to give her
and many and singular are the petitions
showing the sufferers idea of luxury
One sinking from the effects Of an opera
tion begs for q taste Of mixed pickles,
another wants lust one bologny. ma am"
third asks for glass of ginger ale. and
an old woman begs for "a cup of real
tea
Going from one ward to another II is
the same story told over and over again
of suffering. for the most part dumb, of
moral blindness and mental misery. 1t is
curious. though. to note the difference Of
reception given to the mission visitors by
the new and old ones.
In the surgical wards were many des
perately i'll women. One Of them near
the door was nearly over the threshold of
life Her glazed eyes were fixed upon O
child-her only one. brought to her for
farewell kiss The little fellow crowed
and capered about merrily in the lap of
the woman who held him. unconscious of
the meaning of the scene. As his mothers
eyelids fell he was laughing outright
with delight. 1t would be painful and
dreary to go even in pen from one ward
to another in this stronghold of suffering
1t seems as il the very walls Of it would
weep. and the sights weigh down the
heart of the outsider.
A few of the branch charities are the
loan relief. which lends rubber cushions,
invalid chairs. hot water bags and bed
rests to the poor convalescent; the
mothers meeting. where good advice and
Bible reading go hand in hand with sew
ing: the Thanksgiving fund. which sup
plies fifty FIVE poor families with a good
dinner on that day; the bucket trade.
which. when the mother is working out
by the day. supplies her little ones with
pail of good hot food; the kitchen garden.
where little girls are carefully taught.
and the protective work. which aims to
care for the female stranger from the
country OF abroad until she finds work
Mrs Robert P. Porter in New York
Press,
Lookout Mountain.