The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1893-01-28
WESTMINSTER, MD, SATURDAY, JANUARY 28. 1893

greasy appearance to the crust against
which it had been nesting in the sauce
pan.
The eager children crowded round their
mother She cut few thick slices and
smeared the dripping over them. Grimy
hands were stretched out and there was a
contented sound of munching.
eliza ?" inquired her mother, the knife
held interrogatively towards her.
"No,' said Litt'la-iza, 81 amt hungry"
She often said that at meal-times. Some
times it was the truth and sometimes it was
not She had certainly accustomed herself
to do with a minimum of food, and could
well have been training for fasting prod
ICY. A drink of water seemed to make a
satisfactory meal for poor Litt'la-iza. When
she said, II amt hungry" even if her
tone was wistful, no one attempted to urge
her to eat All were too glad to have the
chance of another bite of bread and butter,
and sometimes when Litt'la-iza accepted a
slice it was only to hold it to one little
mouth after another with shrill cave a
bite ?" which was always unhesitatingly
answered without the aid of words. And
no one of them realized that Lit 'la-iza was
dying before her time of slow starvation.
Dying before her time, and yet she lived
too long, it would seem. The new arrange
ment. by which Lit 'la-iza had more of the
society of her family than she had formerly
enjoyed, certainly helped her on the down.
ward way. She was used to breathing a
vitiated atmosphere, but seven in a room
during summer weather made even her
well-trained lungs sometimes cry out for a
little oxygen, though she did not under
stand what it was that they wanted and
why at night she longed to fling out her
weak arms painting If she had done so
she would have disturbed her bedfellows,
and so she lay and suffered.
In the daytime she had still some hours
of comparative solitude, however, for such
of the young ones as had clothes of any
description went to the ragged school or
played in the gutter. Mrs. LiSersuch
never went outside, but she sometimes gos-
siped on the landing or at the street door.
Mr.. Liversuch, other work still eluding
him, had gone tramping. 1t was probable
he would be away during the time of har-
vesting and hopping.
One day neighbor dropped in on Mrs.
Liversuch. She was the woman from
down stairs, who had promised to aid Mrs.
Liversuch in time of need. She was an
untidy, pleasant-faced woman, with prac-
tical bent of mind.
There was no one in the room but Lift :
la-iza, who was lying with her eyes closed,
so that they thought she was asleep, though
they would not have troubled themselves
in any case about her presence. Mrs.
Hobbies was talking about her daughter
who had just got married, an event that is
of Importance in all ranks of society, though
in the East End mothers get their daugh-
ters "off their hands" with less difficulty
than those of the respectable West
81 miss her, said Mrs. Hobbies; 'daugh-
tiers is companionabler than sons. You
amt never 'ad one, ave yer?"
a0nly her" Mrs. Liversuch pointed
to the bed. ''She don't 'ardly count. y
The small figure in the tattered shawl,
who lay outside the equally tattered cover
lid, stirred slightly; the little gray face,
which was so wierd and ugly and shrunken,
quivered She had known all along that
she didn't "ardly count" and yet there
was enough life in her still to make it
grievous to hear these words.
"P'raps this'll be girl, my dear" said
Mrs. Hobbies soothingly.
"P'raps so, said Mrs. Liversueh. And
then she sighed heavily.
"0h dear !" she said, II don't see how
I'm to manage. There amt a thing in
the place, and poor Lit la-iza's not fit to
be moved
"She'll have to be-" said the other
woman. ''You owes yourself dooty.
Besides, you'll want the child to be strong
"0h dear, yes !" said Mrs. Liversueh
with energy. "Its bad enough havin EN-
at all, and Emery not earnin.' l couldn't
abear to have another cripple.
'No; poor Litt'la-iza's enough said
Mrs. Hobbies,
Then she walked round to the bed and
regarded the child.
II don't think she last" she said in a
stage whisper. "Poor little crittur," she
added, not urgently. "Her life amt much
value to her. It'll be mercy when she
goes"
aYet I'll miss her, said Mrs. Liversuch,
who had followed her friend. "She's
'elpless. She can't even do mending or
nothing now. But she's wilIin'. And
she's my own child, yer see, Mrs. Hobbies.
A mother'sa mother
At these words two tears crept from
under Litt'la-iza's closed lids and trickled
down her cheeks, Neither of the women
observed them. Mrs. Hobbies had turned
to 60 outside, and Mrs. Liversuch accom-
panied her to the door.
Not long afterwards Mrs. Liversuch was
sitting on the rickety chair, with her hands
clasped on her lap and her eyes fixed in
dreary contemplation of pothinguesss, when
the thin piping voice of Litt'la-iza reused
1 \.