The Pascagoula democrat-star., 1889-12-06
If TELLS A TALE OF WOE.
ALIVE LINE ITEM IN WEIGH IS CONCEAL
ED A SERMON.

Chicago Times.
"Mrs. Cynthia Jones, aged 60, oi
Jackson, Michigan, committed sui
eide Yesterday bv taking morphine.
She had tried 10 get employment,
but in vain. After spending her
last cent and pawning most of her
clothes she took her own life"
The above is an Item which went
the rounds ot the press. A brel
succinct mention Of a ptlful trag-
edy. The papers-sOme Of them
have been agilating The subject of
better pay Tor women workers.
Strange, not one OF them has seem
ed To notice the sublime text fur
niShed them by the death Of this
poor, struggling woman.
THE SOUND OF BELLS.
AFTER she had spent her last
cent" One can easily imagine the
gradual dimlnution Of her little
whole. How carefully the pre-.
ci0us nickleS would be expended, 1,
while she grew weaker and weak
er, because ,he dared spend but a
few cents, and they got so little
TODD. Sometimes the mists of fam
inc would come before her poor
old eyes, and the earth seem to
lremble beneath her tired ieet.-
A heavy pain born Of hunger aud
despair always in her head, aud in
her aged ears the sounds Of con
linuuus bells. Sometimes she
thought perhaps, they were we'd
ding bells, her own marriage peal
for in the long ago she had JOIN
ed her fate to anolher'S. lie, too,
like all he friends OF her youth,
had passed into The beyond
Those bells lhen--ah! were they
not funeral bells after all
And | think The little gold band
on her shriveled finger was the last
thing she tremblingly laid on The
pawnbroker's counter. Tried in
vann 10 get employment" Yes,
she was an old woman, no longer
fair of lace, or swift of loot. Often
her eyes would be dinmed and
her hands shake. Perhaps her work
would be done awry, and al best
slowly and imperleclly. Who
wants an old woman's useless la
bors? None, il appears.
So The poor, broken, honest life
dragged on, each day but to usher
il new disappointments.
Each time the sun peeped in
through her windows he saw her
strength diminished, her scanty
clothes still scantier, and he bur
den of a wretched existence grown
yet heavier. No doubt she had
Jostled against plelhoric purses in
her feeble walks in search of EN-
ployment, but the men whose
pockets bulged with coin never
saw the piteous, despairlng look in
those hungry eyes. She, poor soul,
so the brief record reads, tried on
ly 10 get work; she did not beg, or
steal, ask charity from any lnStitu-
liOn.
Perhaps some remnant OF her
youthful pride forbid mendlcancy.
At last, when The sun, which shines
unm0ved ami unsympalhetic up
on Joy and sorrow alike, looked
upon her penniIess and alone
then she opened the gates herself,
and, with a plea for pardon, passed
into the great unknowable.
A STUDY IN soMBRE TINTs.
The ways of the world and OF
man had been too hard for her.
Out oflhis stagnant pool of des-
pair what strangely pathetic
strain rises and mlngles with the
worlds music. That the hard
hearted and worldly wise would but
hear il and listen 10 is sound 1t
is like that of which LongfelIOw
says so beautifully:
Mark how amid the chorus of a hun
dred voices aud hundred Instruments
flutes. drums aud trumpets-this unreal
shout aud whirlwind of the vexed air,
Won can so clearly distinguish the melan.
cboly vibration of a single string touched
by the finger-a mOurnful sobbiug sound.
All this Is indeed human lifa. where in
the rushing, noisy crowd aud the sounds
of gladness. and Thousand commingling
emotions, distinctly audible to the ear OF
thought, are the pulsatiOns Of some mel
ancholy string Of the heart tOnehed BY an
invisible hand.
This Is only a little study in SOM
bre tints, mayha2. Some will
think it 100 small, too insignificant
10 take any notice OF. Pictures Of