Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-08-03
A TOY BABY'S STORY.
Scenes in the Far-Off Land Where
Children Help Make DoIls.
SAD DEATH OF LITTLE CONRAD.
Day by Day he and His Widowed Mother
TOiled Their Lives Away.
THE VISIT OF THE ANGEL OF DEATH
WRITTEN FOR THE DISPATCH. ]

ond trip which had made into the land OF
toys and dolls. bringing with me. on this
occasion, most beautiful doll which 1 in
tended to bestow as present on dear little
friend of mine.
lifted it carefully out of the packing
case and gazed upon it several times from
all directions; it was certainly very pretty
As thus examined it, observed spot on
the neck, which had until now escaped my
notice.
"a drop Of water must have fallen upon
the wax" said, "for the luster has disap-
peared"
Somewhat vexed, I laid the doll on the
table, leaned back in my easy chair, and
wearied by my journey and unpackine
soon fell asleep. Suddenly I started up,
there stood the doll gazing into my face
with most intelligent expression, and to
my increasing amazement began to speak
quite plainly.
Should you like to hear how received
that spot?" she asked.
Indeed 1 should" 1 replied.
''Y ou have seen" she answered, "the coun-
try in which we dolls grow, but perhaps you
do not know how poor the people are who
live in that mountainous place. They do
not own a loot of land or the smallest dwell
ling in the valley or on the mountain top,
Their only way to earn money is BY work.
ing for the toy-manufacturer, and the paw is
30 small that, after buying -four and meal,
scarcely cent remains for clothing. Some
OF the workmen make the heads, some the
arms and legs, and even the children learn
to assist"
A LIFE oB HARDSHIP.
''Yes, have seem them do it, said, in
terrupting the small narrator. ''Little
children. scarcely years old, sit in front of
the open door and with blunt knives scrape
the small pieces smooth. Poor little Great
ures. they look so dirty and miserablep'
That is very natural" continued the
doll. II have heard many a wild, despair
Ing word within those narrow rooms was
SO happy when I had been completed and
left the wicked man who beat his little
children because their fingers did not work
quickly enough. was carried with many
other bisque, wax and wooden dolls to a
poor woman who made our little skirts ana
frocks and trimmed our bonnets and hats.
In the same barely furnished room with
herself sat her son, delicate boy about Is
years old. This scanty way of living was
much harder for them to bear than for others,
for they had not always been accustomed
to ii. They came from a good family, but
the husband had lost his property and then
had in his grief and misery taken his own
life. The mother made doll dresses and re-
ceived 4 pennies a dozen for them. She
cut out made and trimmed them with lace
for this miserable sum. Her boy carved
animals and thereby earned the same
A IA lo;I
a cup of weak cofee-that was their food.
KEPT A BRAVE HEART.
"The boy went to his work with skill and
energy, but while his hands tirelessly
created he recalled silently the stories of
great men, who as boys had gone barefoot
and suffered hunger. His eyes would
brighten with the hope of a happier future.
When his mother sorrowed for him, he
cried: -.
"'Don't weep, dear mother, we have no
time; if we do not work We shall have to 90
hungry. But some day life will be brighter
for US. 1 am sure happier days are in store
for u.s.
"But at last he grew disheartened, and
even hope fled. The manufacturers re-
quired that the toys be delivered on a GER
tain day, and that before 6 o'clock. Woe
to the poor soul that was late. 1t was a
hard week for the mother and son when
was there. The boy cut his finger, and it
was late on delivery day when he started
through the hot sun to the village. He was
almost fainting when he entered the village
gates, and trembled with terror as he heard
the clock strike 6. Finally he stood before
his employers door. The people who had
already delivered their goods were just com
ing out with their empty baskets and called
to him: Too late! You come too late.'
"'It's of no use,' said the overseer harsh
ly. You would like me to stand here till
midnight, 1 suppose. Take your stuff away
with you, and if you are not here at the ap-
pointed hour next week there will be no
work at all for you. Just bear that In mind.
Do you hear@
COULDN'T STAND THE BLOW.
''The unhappy boy stood as though
crushed to the earth. His face, which q
moment before was glowing with over
exertion, became pale as death; and when
the door closed upon him, and he turned to
walk away, he suddenly tottered and fell to
the ground. At that moment an elegant
equipage turned the corner of the street.
The manufacturer himself sat within, and
his eye at once fell upon the boy as he lay
on the step, prone and Unconscious. He
drew his handsome gold watch from his
pocket, and said to himself as he glanced at
the time:
"'It Is, as thought, after hours; seven
minutes past 6; of course no work is ac-
cepted after o'clock. Those are my orders.
1 will teach nv people to be punctual. Il
is their own fault if they are late. Let them
see to it, and he drove on without halting.
fortunately another vehicle then passed.
A large dog was harnessed to the shafts,
and in the cart lay many empty baskets,
while at the side walked a good-natured
looking workman. No sooner did he catch
sight of the fainting lad than he pushed his
baskets together, lifted the boy gently in his
arm, laid him beside his bundle in the
wagon, and with many sympathetic words,
carried him back to his mother. When she
saw him lying helpless and unconscious, she
cried aloud. just then fash OF lightning
1uiVered across the heavens and loud
rash of thunder followed. The boy opened
ais ewes, saw his mother bending over him,
.aised his arms and with a bright smile
Iald: 4 am free, 1 am free!
"AIl was soon over; and from the tower
.himed the evening bells. They buried
Door Conrad on Sunday, for no one had to
work on that holy day"
The doll ceased. speaking. I, however,
aid: "And the poor motherl Can not help
ler?"
"Help has been given her." was the dolls
eply. death was merciful to her, and in
|. few days took the needle from her thin,
ired hands. The dress wear was the last
he made; the spot which you see on my
eek was caused by one of the bitter tears
7hich she shed for her boy"
FLoRENcE R. WADE.
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