Middletown transcript., 1892-03-17
A STORY OF 1892,

BY GEORGE l. PUTNAM.
HAT it should have happened a
all is sad enough ; but that i
should have come SO soon after feast
ing and goodwill of Christmas anc
New-Year's gives q refined intensity
to its bitterness. And yet it is but 6
single incident, and aside from its OWL
pathos is capable only of illustrating
life-actual existence as it is seer
by too many people in that vaguely
defined east-side tenement district o.
this city.
This is true story. 1t needs NJ
elaboration that it may appeal to the
heart. Invention cannot produce
more pathetic picture of little chill
/ dren wise beyond their years through
advelsity's pressure; imagination
cannot depict 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. Il
was Deaths own pity that brought
him to that poor room. And now as
you read, remember Ben Johnson's
words:
"Weep with me, all you that read
This little story;
And know, tor whom q tear you shed
Deaths self is sorry"
When snow came during the first
week of the new year there came
with it a sudden change Of tempera'
ture. The air was biting cold, and
the wet chill crept up the streets from
the East River and fastened itself up
on the marrow of the tenement
dwellers. The poorly fitted doors
and windows presented little opposi-
ton 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 ol
three spindliDg 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.
It is a terrible thing to say thai
there were those living who were re-
sponsible for the existence of the little
ones, and that they did nothing, abso-
lutely nothing, to warm, feed and
clothe them. There was father and
mother. The family had moved into
the room during Christmas week
Moving was not difficult task, fol
there was not enough household goods
to warrant the employment Of a single
wagon. By turns the two little sisters
carried the baby, wrapped in q ragged
piece of bed-covering, and the mother
bore the more important articles
more Important because plates arc
cups might break and could not b
replaced. But a baby-faugh
That was nothing! So cheap doe
human life become when daily breaC
is something more than mere form
of prayer.
Meanwhile the father was drunk
He knew no intermediate degrees Q
intoxication be drank to get drunk
The family had no food, but the kind
hearted people in the house fed th
!, poor creatures from their own insuffic
lent tables. They had but the bar
allowance made them by the world
and they cursed the world for it
meagreuess; but all unmurmuringl
they divided with those worse off thai
themselves.
For few days the mother sat j
the room, crouched on the floor,
shawl over her head and rocking he
body back and forth as she repeated
"Me man is drunk. "Me man
drunk" No one disputed her. A
no one could say he was sober, th
fact Of his drunkenness was accepte
without question. The two littl
girls nursed the baby between then
feeding him bread soaked in milk an
water, or in undiluted water, to stll
his fretfut cries. And they looked
with wonder in their large eyes, q
their mother, for now she changed he
cry, and moaned; "Me man is dead
Ne man is dead" They had nc
heard that before. 1t was not s
awful to them as being drunk, how
: ever, for that meant curses and kick
and blows but death was a myster,
; and-well, who could tell them whs
, it meant?
, When the wind was shrieking i
> fiercest and the snow.cloud whirlin
!; highest, the mother rose to her fe'
!. and went out. She was away all th
! afternoon. There was no comfort IL
+ her at home there was no fire,
l food, no bed. So she staid ava.
Tho little sisters huddled in q corn