The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1890-04-16
SAIRY JACKSON'S BABY.
UNCLE JACK KNEW THE LORE
WOULD PROVIDE.


once been white, but was now discolored
by constant use, swung idly from the
tack which held it in place at the en-
trance to one Of the tall tenements on
the west side. 1t is in the district known
as Blackchapel, and all the houses there
about are occupied by colored folks.
There is always pathos about scrap
OF Grape at the door, especially If the
grim announcement is hung out for
child. But the lean legged and woolly
headed black children who were playing
| shiny in the street were too young to
allow their sport to be interrupted by the
presence of death.
"oNLY sARAH'S LITTLE BOY"
If any one had asked the stout negress
who lolled at the door, they would have
been answered with: "Oneley Mis- Sarah
Jackson's little boy. An it's de Lawd's
bressin' he gone, kase he's bin ailin' eb-
Der sence he was bawn Whar does she
lib? Up on de top flo, In de reah. Yo'
cawn't miss it. Jess knock hard on de
do, kase Miss Jackson may be sorrowin'
like, on count ov it bein' her Johnnie"
And then, If one had followed her d.
rection, he would have wondered If there
never would be any end to the bare, steep
flights of dirty stairs, with the too brief
landings, and the musty, dark halls, and
the black, woolly heads thrust out of half
open doors in a spirit of youthful in
quiry.
But there Is m end to all things, and
at last the top is reached. 1t is lighter
here, and the air seems o little more
wholesome, although the same musty
smell of crowded quarters is to be no.
ticed. A ladder leads up to hole in the
roof, and the sun sends a slanting ray
down through the aperture. The block
of sunlight strikes the entrance to one of
the three doors on the landing, and has
only the effect Of bringing out in greater
relief the worn pine boards half hidden
by an accumulation of dirt.
It is very quiet ON this floor, so quiet
than when the visitor listened he could
hear sound of sobbing, and then low
voice grooming words of comfort. A
knock at the door brings the answer:
Come in" The room is not more than
q
large room for tenement. But the
question of accommodations is not taken
into consideration now.
There are two persons In the room. An
old woman, whose tears made shining
tracks upon her black skin, was bending
over a young woman who rocked tohnd
fro in an old chair, sobbing and moaning
for her baby. The room was uncarpeted
and miserable. Bags and wads Of paper
stuck loosely In the holes In the broken
window panes helped to give an indie
scribable aspect OF desolation to the
room.
Upon the only table In the room, its
attenuated form wrapped in an old red
shawl, ragged and threadbare, was the
dead baby. Its little black face, tinged
with a grayish hue, was turned up to-
ward the cracked ceiling, and the lids
hardly concealed the dull white of the
eyes.
The babe had been dead since the day
before, and the mother was too poor to
bury it. Her husband was away some
where He had deserted her months be-
fore, so she need not expect him in her
hour of trouble
THE LAwD WILL PERvIDE.r
AS she rocked the door creaked ON its
hinges and an old negro entered. He was
lame, and made his way carefully along
with cane. A high hat that had seen
years OF hard service rested on a fringe
of grayish wool which covered the back
of his head, and a bandanna handkerchief
made picturesque substitute for both
collar and cravat.
"Hullo, Jack, yo' back agenr said the
old woman. "Sairy's bin taken on pow
erfl sence yo's bin gone, an she mos cried
her eyes out. Did yo' git emmy money!"
mo, an Use done clean pestered out,
a-trampin' and a-trampin'. What wild
de rheumatics and de Sorror bout Jacky,
/ amt mahself."
Uncle Jack" said the young woman,
jumping up, ''Ill jes' ask yer ter go to
one noah place fur de money. Jes' one
noah. Use done washin' fur dis lady, |
and mebbe she help me-"
Come, come, gal, said the old man;
Use dom all / can fer yer, but the good
Lawd will pervide. Jes' put yo' trus' ON
him."
II know, Uncle Jack, I know dat; but
we mus do somethin'," she said.
With unsteady hand she wrote note
in q cramped hand on the back of gro
Gerry bill, the only piece of paper there
was In the house. The paper was bis
tered with her tears.
MRs. REED Would you please to helpm little,
am sorry to ask you, but my Baby died yester-
day at noon, with the Brown keeters and the qua
tar in the throat. We have done what we could.
! have been sick myself and the little earning
had saved | had to pay out for nedcin. am not
feeling well From SARAH JACKSON.
Uncle Jack hobbled out Of the door and
down the stairs. He had to go long
distance, and when he came back gen.
tleman came with him. He had come
in answer to the letter and to see the
dead baby was buried decently. Not
long ago his own baby had died, and
when he stood by the table and saw by
the light Of the one lamp in the room the
face Of the little dead baby he broke
down md want HE tears min olad With |