The evening world., 1890-07-12

cine TO her SICK child.
There is unselfshness for you, neglect
ing her own for the interest of friend s
child.
Leaving the slip with its struggling
garbage aud noisome odors. follow the
little. white-faced woman through long
marrow passage. and cross a court yard
tecrl.ng with wretchedness aud infantile
misery.
On tho fagstones near the bydrant is a
woman on her knees with scrubbing
brush in hand washing pair Of oyeralls.
." No other way to get the paint out, -
sue says.
About her are the children OF a score Of
the surrounding tenements. lying on tho
stones pasping for q breath Of cool air.
The baby brigade IS i'll fed. ill-formed
and prepared for the battle Of life.
There are countless little limbs in view.
liberated sores.
But the mother is familiar with all this,
aud heedlessly passing on wo enter hall
way. The place is dingy and foul smell
ing. Just as we cross the thre hold the
plustering overhead comes down. cover
ing ns with lime. 1ndiTerently she
brushes her dress and mounts ladder
like staircase, and turning to the left
stops at an open door.
The air is tlery. II is dinner.time, and
broth is cooking on the stove.
Where's your mother, Phil?' she
asks.
No one is visible in the hot. tidy, poor
little room, but small treble voice an
swors: Gone for some water"
'' Well. tell her 1 can't wait. must
go homo TO the children. Here's the
medicine. How are You feeliDg?'
She stoops TO car ess the pale face in the
corner from which comes the reply.
Oh. very WE'LL" with such brave in
difference to the disease that 10 sappipg
away his young life.
She asks II there is anything she can do
for him, speaks hopeful words. uses play
full imperatives about getting well right
off. aud, pressing tho little white fingers
in her own. goes away with these words
for nn Introduction.
She's visiting poor, sick babies"
! briefly confirm the introduction,
Well. thore amt any poor, sick
babies in this family. I'm twelve years
old, and the poor little fellow presses
n hand to his side and slowly turns to
tie wall. wincing from the agony he is
trying TO conceal.
The spasm of pain over, he turns his
faco to me again and II brightens with
pleasure at the approach of a cnreworn,
grny-haircd, premAturcly aging woman.
The story OF poor little Phil is soon
told. He has heart disease. DR.. Herrick
is treating him and has given orders to
keep him quiet aud take him on the water,
She is good lady, the mohter says,
but can't take him. We have never
been on the water and ! wouldn't know
to him how could ever forgive pyself?"
Little Phil will hardly live to see
another summer, aud it is easy TO SEQ that
trip to the Battery even by the shortest
route would leave his delicate strength in
II state Of exhaustion.
have very little money in my purse
and nsk Phil what he will do with the
pennies.
A great light Of e1pectant pleasure
comes to the large blue eyes. the feverish
lips are pressed together and faint color
comes TO the ivory Of the small face.
- Ge, some ice cream. lie says with a
wistful look.
Would you rather have ice cream than
orangcsS
Yes my mouth is Are. and nothing
tastes as good as ice cream"
The miserly coppers are poured into the
little hands with an apology; one pair of
eyes dance with delight, and the other is
dimmed with tears.
- When will YOU take me. mother 2"
After dinner, son, when it gets
cooler"
She helps him across the room, tend
erly seats him in n rocking chair near the
window, and when the awful pain in his
heart has quieted. he points to a row of
flowers on the window-sill. Like the pale
little gardener, they are sickly in growth
and starving for fresh air, sustenance and
sunshine. There is not blossom ON one
Of them and but very few leaves Even
water is denied them, for every drop has
to be brought up from the court below.
Nevertheless, they are cherished, each
has Il history. and one Is as dear to the old
mother as the choicest orchid in his con-
seryatory Is 10 Mr.. Jay Gould.
It is BIT Of shamrock that o friend
brought over TO Phirs mother. who tells
me lit is growing in the old sod"
The precious dust Is exhibited at the
window. and the touch Of her fingers on
the bright green clover Is almost reverent.
Then there are the geTanium slips
struggling for growth in tin cans, and
where do you suppose they came from2
A coffin.
There was funeral OF good man in |
the slip last May and the mother attended. !
On the way 10 the hearse branch of /
gersuium fell from the cas- ket and this she /
carried home and planted in Phlrs win
dow garden.
The sturdiest piece of green is a pig
weed growing in A glOTiOus not of earth