The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1889-11-23
BROADBRIM'S N. Y. LETTER.

In q room, almost destitute of furniture
and everything else, in the midst of her
starving children; they had not tasted food
for nearly two days. When they were
discovered the mother was stark staring
mad, and endeavored to take her life by
leaping from the window. Her story is
only one of a thousand. Young and
beautiful, she attracted the attention of
merchant tailor, we'll to do, and married
him. Matters ran smoothly with the
young couple for several years. The wife
was frugal and the husband industrious,
be. Four beautiful children blessed the
union-loved by the father and adored by
the mother, SO that nothing seemed want
ing to fill their cup of happiness. But in
an evil hour the father took TO drink, then
ruin came swift and sure He became an
outcast and vagabond. The mother for
years struggled against fate, and last week
she was taken to madbouss. The chill
dren were passed over to Mr.. Gerry's soci-
ETY., and the wretched father was sent to
the penitentiary.
A newspaper correspondent tells the
story of an intervie W with the girl wife
of HcIlyain, the eighteen year old murder
er of the German groceryman Lucca, Of
Brooklyn. Nothing more pathetic can be
found in history or fiction than the story
Of this poor waif, who will be the widow
of murderer when she reaches fifteen.
| When asked how she came to marry this
disreputabe tough, she saie, because he
told me that he loYed me. No one ever
told me so before" Did not your mother
tell you 80? asked the questioner. "Oh,
no." said the poor creature. "She never
took me in her arms, though l longed to
| get there, and she never kissed me in her
life that l can remember" When the
mother was asked if this was true, with s
brutality worthy of wild beast, she said,
SAY coorse it is thrue. l don't believe in
| huggin' an kissin' an spilin' 'em."
Speaking of her daughter, she said, "She
out av her, but cudn't." How did you
Try to knock il out of her? the interviewer
| inquired. "Wid me fists, av coorse; and
her brothers thried to knock it out av her,
too, but they cudn't." Howp again said
the ouestioner. "Why, wild their fists, as
they had a right to. They knocked her
down an beat her on the fure." What
revelation Of sayagery is this A poor,
weak, little girl of thirteen or fourteen,
who in all her life had never heard from
mothers or brothers lips one word of
love or kindness; whose only remembrance
of home was of beatings and drunkenness
and blasphemy. What wonder that she
diifted away Who shall be surprised if
she is lost?
But notwithstanding this there are char
tiles here the record of which is kept in
the Lambs Book of Life, and whose
stories of mercy and love will stand out
bright as the MONDAY sun on the Judgment
day.
What can be more helpless than sick
and destitute woman? Homeless, friend
less, penniless in great city, she sinks by
the wayside, and the mad stream of busy
life sweeps by her, each too intent on his
own affairs to think of the hotsam by the
way. Yet not all; the priest and the Le-
vite. perchance, may have passed on the
other side of the way, but good Samari-
tan is also jonrneying along the road.
1t is over thirty years since DR.. Marion
Sims, of blessed memory, founded the
| Woman's Hospital. Strange as it may
seem, up to that time there was no similar
institution in the civilized world. Hos
pitfalls there were by the thousand, and
many where men only were received, but
neither here nor in Europe was there any
hospital devoted exclusively to the diseases
OF women. A department was set apart
for those who were able 10 pay, but they
received no better treatment than the
homeless wanderer that charity had gath
cred from the streets. DR.. Sims early saw
that If the institution was to be a perma-
nent success he must enlist the aid of wo-
men. The names of Jay Gould and Rus
sell Sage stand on the marts of commerce,
aud there where the money changers dwell
as the synonyms Of all that is despicable
and merciless in money getting, yet here
on the list of patrons l find the names of
their wives, Mrs Jay Gould and Mrs. Rus.
sell Sage.
But there is one other name there bright
and golden with blessed memories, which
stands out like shining star cleaning
through st,rmy sky. Mrs. William B.
Astor for twenty years has stood the un-
questioned queen of our social life. She
was the one woman whose supremacy
caused no bitterness, for she seemed to
rule by the authority accredited to kings
the right divine No one except person
acquainted with the exacting and relentless
duties of such station can conceive the
never ending work Of such life. Yet
this dead saint, worth untold millions,
stole away from her fashionable friends and
her luxurious home, to minister with her
own hands TO the wants of poor HELPLESS
creatures who in their own estate hardly
knew what shelter was. A beautiful story
is told of Mrs. Astor by one who witnessed
the scene The lady was passing by one
of the little rooms where poor wrecked
soul was silently passing away, no moth
er's voice, no sisters kindly touch, no
daughters love cheered the pathway of
the lone wanderer as she stood on the
verge of the valley of the dark shadow.
Perhaps as the clouds began to thicksn
and her eyes grew dim she noated in fancy
through long years of sorrow and tears to
the home of her childhood. and she heard
loved voices, long since hushed in death,
whispering softly in her ear bright visions,
love and hope, sweet as silver bells. The
breath of the sufferer came thick and fast.