Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1892-03-18

picture OF little cnllufen wise DeSOIu ln'lT
years through adversity's pressure; mag
nation cannot depict a more hopeless, lost,
Cold-sOuled condition than that of the ill
featured men and women who gathered at
the last to smile at the dead and sorrow
over the living. 1t was deaths own pity
that brought him to that poor room. And
now, as you read, remember Ben Jonson' 5
words:
Weep with me. all You that read
This little story;
And know for whom a tear YOU shed
Death self is sony.
When snow came during the first week
of the new year there came with it a sud
den change of temperature. The air was
biting cold and the wet chill crept up the
streets from the East river and fastened it
self upon the marrow of the tenement
jewellers. The poorly fitted doors and win
dows presented little opposition to the
fierce wind. and the snow was blown into
rooms in long angry streamers. And in
at least one room the snow did not melt as
it came: there was no fire in that room, no
fuel for "A fire. no stove in which to build
one. The only warmth there was that
given out by the puny bodies of three
spindliug Children--two sisters just old
enough to have been tucked into snug
cribs in warm rooms and kissed TO sleep by
loving mothers, and their baby brother.
1t is a terrible thing to say that there
were those living who were responsible for
the existence of these little ones, and that
they did nothing-a absolutely nothing to
warm, feed and clothe them. There was a
father and a mother The family had
moved into the room during Christmas
week Moving was not difficult task,
for there were not enough household goods
to warrant the employment of single
wagon. BY turns the little sisters carried
the baby, wrapped in piece of ragged
bed-coverng, and the mother bore the
more important articles-more important
because plates and cups might break and
could not be replaced. But baby-faugh
That was nothing, SO cheap does human
life become when daily bread is something
more than mere form of prayer.
Meanwhile the father was drunk. He
knew no intermediate degrees of intoXica-
ton; he drank to get drunk. The family
had no food, but the kind-hearted people
i'm the house fed the poor creatures from
their own insufficient tables. They had
but the bare allowance made them by the
world, and they cursed the world for its
meagreness but all unmurmuringly they
divided with those worse off than them
selves.
For few days the mother sat in the
room, crouched on the floor, a shawl over
her head, and rocking her body back and
forth as she repeated: Me man is drunk.
Me man is drunk No one disputed her.
As no one could say he was sober, the fact
of his drunkenness was accepted without
question. The two little girls nursed the
baby between them, feeding him bread
soaked in milk and water, or in undiluted
water, to still his fretful cries. And they
looked, with wonder in their large eyes, at
the mother, for now she had changed her
cry, and moaned: Me man is dead. Me
man is dead They had not heard that
before. 1t was not so awful to them as be-
ing drunk, however, for that meant curses
and kicks and blows but death was mys-
terry, and-well, who could tell them what
it meant?
When the wind was shrieking its fiercest
and the snow-cloud whirling highest, the
mother rose to her feet and went out. She
was away all the afternoon. There was
no comfort for her at home; there was no
fire, no food, no bed. So she staid away.
the baby between them, and silently
lengthening windows. The baby cried
increasingly. Little Mary said at last,
"Do you think baby's hungry?"
Il don't know. Do you?' replied Katy.
II don't know" Mary answered slowly.
She and Katy were both hungry, but they
did not say this. They had lived so long
in their few years, and been hungry so
much, that they could accept it uncom-
plainngly as a part of life. But the baby
that was different; they could condone
his crying from hunger, for he had it all to
learn.
By-and-by Mary spoke again: I wish
mother would come"
81 do too" said Katy. 1t was lonesome.
The room was darkening fast, and the
snow, creeping over and past their feet
was so pitilessly cold; and it made such
strange shapes whiring in the half-light.
The mother would have taken no notice of
them had she been there, but they would
have found an apprecidble comfort in her
mere presence. They knew the value of
small joys; large ones did not enter their
sphere. They would have welcomed any
animate thing-a big, warm dog to lie
against: anything but the fearful dark and
the cold insidious snow.
Finally Mary slipped out of the room.
"I'll fetch mother she said, and was
gone. She knew very well where to look
just at the corner where the windows
were warm with yellow light, and a hot
draught of air was at the door. Mary
pushed the swinging door and stood inside
There to her eyes appeared men standing
at a long table down one side of the room,
drinking out Of glasses yellow and red and
white liquids. They called for more, and
talked among themselves; they were en-
crossed in their comfort. No one saw Mary
as she crept down the room, and at the end,
at table, found her mother. The woman
was sOdden. Her hair hung in strings
about her shoulders, her shawl lay on the
floor, among the crusts and rinds of free
lunch, and she mumbled to herself mar
ticulately. Yet she recognized Mary, and
drove her away by look and gesture. And
the little girl crept out again, and returned
to her sister and the baby.
Brave little girl. 1t was not necessary
10 explain to Katy why she came alone.
She said nothing of the momentary warmth
of the saloon that had set her chilled little
frame to trembling all over. Katy herself
was numb and blue, but that was not
worth mentioning The baby was crying