The morning call., 1893-06-06
STILL SHE WORKS
Earns Her Own Living at
Ninety-Five.
TALE OF AN AGED TOILER.
She Does Not Ask for Charity, but
Only for Chance to
Scrub.

Bridget Mccarthy is 95 years of age, but
in spite of that fact she is able TO do a
hard days work, and she does work when
ever she gets chance.
She lives in tenement-house on little
side street that crosses Van Ness avenue
near Hayes street. The house is a gray.
dusty old wooden building three stories
high-one Of those straight -up-andd wn
affairs without porticOs or any arcbitec-
tural device to relieve its plainness. Lit
tie children make pictures of just such
houses on their slates-just house with
numerous small windows and one long
door. But little children always complete
their pictures with a chimney, out of
which a great volume of curling smoke
comes. There is chimney to this house.
but it has long since discontinued its ex-
pensive habits, for the people who live in
this house are too poor to buy fuel for fire.
A reporter, hearing of Mrs Bridget Nc
Carthy. went to see her yesterday.
''She is very proud" said the lady who
had spoken of her, "aud do not believe
she will talk to you at all.
The reporter found the house, but re-
peated kn ocks at the long narrow rickety
door that leaned inward and groaned on
Its ancient rusty hinges brought no re-
sponse. So opening the door she walked
in. The reporter found herself in an un-
furnished hallway. Uncarpeten stairs
that looked about ready 10 fall down con-
fronted her. Mrs. McCarthy was to be found,
she had been told, in the first room to the
right on the first floor, so she raped at
the door to this room.
very old woman, but not at all decrepit
one, opened 1t and looked suspiciously at
her visitor. The reporter edged her way
into the room.
Such little place it was-hardly hole
in the wall. a little cot cover ed with dark
calico. a cane-bottomed chair, wooden
box that held a coal-oil stove and some
cooking utensils completed its furniture.
This is my little den and | live all
alone" said the old lady with a smile.
"All alone! Are you not very lonely?"
"Oh, no; after while you get used to
1t. | have lived alone for thirty years.
You would be glad there was no one to be
bothering you. You would be happy a.
the day Is long. but you would pray every
n ight and morning that God would let
you die"
There was silence for moment; two
big tears rolled down the old woman's
face, and, as if she needed human SYM
pathy. she took her callers hand and stroked
1t gently. Then she laughed mirtLlessly
and said:
"Why, you'll be thinking l am a-caring,
L am not. l am as happy as the day is
long"
What kind of work do you do?" ques.
toned the reporter
ANY kind. wash and scrub or mend.
L am not asking for charity. NJ. Will
never ask 1t. These old hands Will WORK
as long as they can and when they can't
will lie down and starve.
why, child. l am % years old. l have
been hungry many time, but l have
never asked for mouthful.
Don't look so sorry for me- Be SORRY
for yourself. You are young. Do you
know when l was young L suffered more
than. can suffer now. l had cruel.
mean husband, but-glory be to God !
he left me forty years ago. 1 had six chill
dren, too, aud l worked and starved for
them.
"Oh, | am glad to be alone, for l know
what 1t is to have my children cry because
OF hunger. l buried them all but one, and
L educated him and lie left me when had
given him all | could"
But you have not always had hard