San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-04-17
THE MADDING CROWD.
HOW IT "HURRIES ALONG, WITH
SORROW AND SONG"

Velvet and Rags, Virtue and Vice, Cold
ness and Pity Com,ningied in the Ealeid-
oscope of the City's Street-"wandering
Like Children in the Dark
Have you ever watched crowded street
in great city and seen the surge of human
ity drift to and fro1
1t is pleasant sight to mark the figures
come and go in one ceaseless current, each
with separate aims and interests but con-
uected by an inseparable bond of sympathy
and dependence Like strand of many col
ored beads, the brilliant and gold are wedged
close against the somber and black, and all
held together by the little silken thread of
humanity Or similar to an immense piece
of human tapestry, where the shuttle of fate
has woven a million different tints Deep
shadows and high lights stand in bold relief,
with here and there flash of crimson and
purple, but through all is tangled the jet
black thread that destiny loves to weave in
every phase of life. As you watch this sea
of moving, swarming beings there you will
recognize Incidence and labor piety and sin,
aval'ice and charity, all drifting with the
current
THE JET, BLACK THREADS.
See the gorgeous equipage of the million
aiEe, it rolls amid the throng and casts clouds
of dust in the face of the stalwart man of la
Dor, who, with iron muscle and horny hand
hrTries on to toll These two men, so far re-
moved by social bars, are yet dependent one
on the other. 1T the strength and muscle
of that brawny workingman that holds, At
las like on his shoulders, the girderS and pill
lars OF the SOCIAL structure. Should he with
draw his power soon would the carvings and
ceilings and capitols of the structure totter
and fall Truly it has been said: mo man
liveth unto himself, or dieth unto himself"
And there see amongst this madding crowd
the priest He moves his lips in silent prayer,
while beneath his sanity cowl is pressed the
rosary and the crucifix- He is seemingly
oblivious of the multitude about him, until
aroused from his devotions by the man of
vice who recklessly jostles past him He who
stakes wealth, honor and even his own soul
on the chance, that lies in the upturning of
the cards that lie as close to his heart as does
the crucifix to the breast of the priest.
Spades, diamonds hearts and Clubs form the
four links that wedge the letters of bondage
and bind his soul irreyocably with LAGOON
serpents, whose folds uncoil to plunge him
into eternal ruin, yet the man of God and
the sinner drift down this life channel side
by side.
In this kaleidoscope scene a negative tint
appears. Ali there it is: the man of social
bondage. He who is the willing sacrifice
offered on the fashion pyre; he who so gener'
oGsly offers himself to alltdemands that fash
ion requires. He sways YEARLY; he smiles
simperingly; he lisps amiably He makes a
softening tint in the rugged things about him.
floating harmlesSly on his way like a Whit of
thistle down.
With bending form and .haggard face, a
beggar plies his way A bony arm, with
outstretched palm, asks for aims He offers
a blessing for the woman of wealth who
losses hsn a coin, as she gather her skirts
aside less they touch the poor wretch who
crawls through the same life current with
her
1t is this unutterably dreary existence that
weaves Che jet black threads through this
piece of human tapestry.
CRUSHED vIoLEFS AND ROSES.
There is the man OF traffic. Watch his
steady, keen eye, and compressed lips His
mind is conferred on the problem of finance
On he goes to build higher the golden calf"
of his idolatry, at which he worships night
him weary little face or to heed the plant
i've cry, PLEASE, sir buy my flowers" In
his needless rush he does not know that he has
dashed to the pavement the wealth of tie
child, and his heavy tread has crushed to
atoms the violetS and the roses, wet with the
Orphans tears. All, no! poor ignorant man,
he goesSon, like so many in lifes thorough
fare, with hardened and cerroded hearts;
mammon loving and mammon serving, with
the hottest emotions shattered, just as were
the flowers Of the child. But soon life's ftful
fever ends, and he rests A few spades of
clay. a wreath of immortelles are given him,
while his golden calf' is anatomically dis
sected and divided between clamor and dis
sension.
How well it is that there is woven in the
web and wool of life bit of mirth and joy
Amid this hurrying tramp of the ebbing
crowd the starry eyed Italian, with his scar
let clad monkey, arrests the stern and the
grave, who smile at the monkeys supple gyra-
tons and the dissonant grindingof the organ
Like a gull on the waves, see that pure
young girl, spotless and unconscious as the
lily that blooms on the death brink Of mi
asmic swami q moves and k.ows not that