The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-06-04

sim another tvpc-womcn with BRIGHT,
cynical faces quick 81 spccch and move
ment, tailormado, vrll-pioved and bon
ncted, conspicuous 81 an ana Of gnod-fel-
lOwship and a certain amount Of snap and
dash newspaper women There was a
wcll-known writer whose pen brought her
an income equal 90 that Of a member Of
congress. there was a girl scarcely out Of
her teens some Of whose beats had
made the most hardened reporter turn
livid with envy; there was another who
knew everything about everybody, and
could give YOU points about your dearest
friend which would make yOur hair curl ;
there were two or three women support
ing their families by their space rates and
at least a half-dozen who were living on
their nerve-burning the candle of life at
both ends and quite enjoying the confla-
grafton.
Into the midst of this strangely as
sorted medley of living. breathing re-
membered women came the woman who
was forgotten.
She took seat in an obscure corner
and tried to distinguish some words from
the babel about her, but in vain. She
strained and blinked her failing eyes. hop
ing to discover some face she knew, but
all were strange. She attracted consider
able attention, curiosity and good-naturcd
comment.
Look at Aunt Jerusha. " whispered the
little sOuDrette giving her Gainsborough
hat a quirl1 over her left eyebrow.
who's the old frump2n queried an
other
"See what you're coming to, girls, =" re-
marked the pert young journalist who
know it all, That woman was once on
the staff of the Daily Cyclone. She was
one of the pioneers in our business. Now
she is old, sickly, lives on the top floor of
a tenement house and none so poor to do
her reverence. We're all likely to be
where she is some day"
"I'm going over to speak TO her" said
one woman; II can't stand it TO see her
sitting there all alone and no one noticing
her"
''She'Il talk you to death, - said the
other, who had vouchsafed the in1Orma-
ton; "for heavens sake don't tell her I'm
heren
The old, sad face frightened a trihe as
she was kindly addressed. But the busy
woman who spoke to her had not much
time to listen to the torrent which had
been damned up in tho weary old heart,
and excused herself as soon as posi- BILE.
So the woman who was forgotten was
once more left alone and sat trying to
listen and TO see. Failing in these, she
fell TO remembering Back in the past
she drifted back to her days of work
and usefulness. Once she was sought
and admired Once her opinions had
weight and her counsels We're asked.
Once she felt she had a place in the
world which she had earned by honest
endeavOr. She had taken great pride in
that place. She recalled her first success,
the words of praise and encouragement
she had heard, the friendships Of those
who had long been lying in their low,
green beds. Old loves, old affections, old
comradeships rushed over her once
more something filed the hungry old
heart and something sprang TO the facing
eyes.
There was a stir, a rustic, a frou-frou
Of silks. The meetings were over. and
the gayly dressed, merry, busy, living
women were departing. The ghOst-the
woman who was fOrgOtten--tlitted through
the thrOng, and slowly, painfully took her
way to her miserable home. 1t was a
climb to the top floor of that east side
tenement, and when she reached il she
was very tired.
There was no one to welcome her, no
one to take the bonnet and shawl, and
brew a cup of tea. No one to say: Il
have missed you, and bid her rest. The
woman who was forgotten was quite
alone
Il wish l could have heard them talk
this afternoon she murmured, land /
wish there had been some one who was
not too busy to have told me who the diff
ferent ones were. But they were all so
BUSY ought not to expect any one to
bother with me. IL was foolish Of me to
have gone. l am too old for service, and
then, am forgotten
Il was early springtime. She had
opened the window a trifle that the soft
air might penetrate the stuffy room. The
sun was just going down. The woman
who was forgotten leaned one moment
from the garrett window and looked out
over the roofs of the dingy houses, over
the masts and sparS and sails TO the broad
river flowing down to tho sea. In all the
great city below there was no one she
could call friend, none who remembered
her.
Twilight deepened into gloom. One by
one the stars swung into the sky. The
electric lights fared out in the noisy
streets. Still the woman who was for
gotten sat there by the open window
Strange fancies tluttered through her
brain, The memories reused that after
noon beckOned others and a train of recol-
lections swept before her. Some kissed
their hands TO her; others yelled their
faces and wept,
Then sounds, sights and odors of long
ago came to her, She heard the sough-
ing of the wind through pines 4.
the call of robin through the twilight
the tolling of bells. She smelled
again the perfume Of violets +
the strange odor of upturned earth
She saw faces smiles tears.
She felt kisses on her withered cheeks
her lips
In the lonely room, in the stiffness of
the mysterious night, something swift
and terrible and kind touched her.
God had not forgotten her.