The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-02-18
DOROTHY HARDY'S MASCOT.
0TALEs o. ny TRAvELERs"* sERIES.
BY EDGAR /. WAKEMAN.
copyright, 1891


Hard times
Hard times enough at any time for the
great world of toilers. fighting the cease
less battle for love and life and home.
Hard times!
Hard, fierce times now, when the
pulses of trade are stilled by the wran-
giles of leaders Of men; when the rich fly
from the presence o. poverty to the make
shift Of travel in foreign lands; when the
miserly hoard more closely and savagely :;
when the charitable are broken by the
great wave Of appalling want beating
them down: when the crafty fatten upon
dolor and misfortune when the lawgivers,
temporarily safe behind their fortress of
plenty and power, drowsily theorize,
speculate. bubble and delay; and even
when the apostemic heads Of great gov
ernments dawdle through weeks, months.
almost years, among the delusions OF
diplomacy, the turpitudes Of place-giving,
or the senilities of wrangling with Sen
ates, while millions are starving beside
the rustling weeds of trade.
Hard times
Bitter. dark, rayless hard times TO the
wretehed poor, with no outlook beyond;
with bowling blasts searching them out
10 QQfJ ana sung anu SCOuIBts Win II I'LL
ger pinching and with winter freezing
with disease lurking to pounce upon
them when manly hope is done; with
lonely agony to rack them when reason Is
almost gone: and with gaunt death TO
claim them. and tlast release them from
their pitiless struggle just to llve-klnder,
tenderer and more compassionate far than
the bland, tlint-hearted inquisitors above
them, who maunder still of the wrong of
this party or that, of wonderful theories,
of political advantage, of tariffs of re-
forms, of trade free, trade fair and trade
foul, while impotent lethargy Is unctu-
ously filling countless thousands Of pau
per graves.
Hard times
Humb of the proud, victors over the
strong. Jewelers. of the many. How their
F. remorseless hand strikes where least eX-
pected, smites in remote ana unforeseen
places the half-attained fruitions, and
shifts ana changes the relations of men!
In all that measureless land between the
wretched poor and the wretched rich, the
land which zones the world with blessed
aspira tion and with building and builded
homes, how their blight pasies the arm
of effort and of love! How their threat
ening wraiths walk beside the father in
his toll. the mother in her endless help
ings and hopings, the student in his delv-
ings, the professional man in his all but
reached success, the inventor in his vigils,
aye, even the lover in the most blissful
hopes he ever NAV know, changing the
cherished dreams of years TO the black
pictures of despair Liquidation, the
great economists may call them, but
petrefaction is the truer word. And who
ever shirks. withholds, or plays vulture
with his fellow man when such dark days
are come puts back the hands of uni
versal human good aud progress on the
6ial fapa Of time and ch9ll he a
an enemy Of his race and kind
Something like this was rumbling
through Ril hard Hardy's tired head and
discouraged heart, as he walked the
streets OF the great city of New York, for
he had not the wherewithal to ride, and
saw the pitiful scenes of want and suffer
ing on every hand in that hard times
winter of 1894, finally coming, by a cir
cuitous route TO his own home in the Sky
piercing Spuyten Duyvel fats.
From a safe distance his near-sigh ted
eyes furtively and with difficulty through
his spectacles for long time regarded
the carved entrance to the fats with its
gaudy glass, its gay chandelier, and its
rows of polished speaking tubes and
electric bells, hoping u escape the at
that moment most distressing ogre Of his
distressful poverty, their alert and
watchful ianitress. At last he valiantly
plunged into the entrance, touched his
own bell, "Ninth Floor, Rear" was in
side the door in an instant, and was
making fine Roadway up the stuhy stairs,
when a frOwSv head with Ratchet face,
hooking itself over the lower newel-post
as if it had been sprung from its papa
cious panels by his guilty tread, snapped
out.
Mister Hardy"
"On-ah}" he stammered, hating on
the stair as if caught red-handed in the
a.
ascending to his own domiclle without
having given account of himself. is that
you, Mrs. Rasperl'
Yes. it's me-"
"Well, my dear Mrs. Rasper, " he tenn
ported while his heart beat rapidly, for
he did not know just how to handle the
virago turnkey OF these modern peniten-
tiary home-cells without penny in his
pocket "what-what is it you wishl"
Stuff chopped out the newel-post
gargoyIe.
Well, frankly, my good woman, / do
too"
Goals outer your binl"
"Ahl"
"Grocer's rampin' round"
''Well. we'll"
''Milkman says youse givin' him tn
Bowery.'
The Bowery?"
yes the faucet"
Yes tn d. B."
''Well, well, well! I'm surprised -
Il amt. N tn Ian lord says rent Sat
urday, er out youse 60"
Dear, dear!-not quite so loud, Mrs
RaSper; there's u good woman; I'll see
about it, at once; at once, Mrs. Rasper"
"Youse BETTER And with this, the
frowsy head, Ratchet face and biting
tongue of Mrs. Easper, janitress. disap
peared into the neTel-pOst or the equally
dark mahogany somewhere with SHARP
click and loud bang.
Up, up, up, he stumbled to where an
other head. little, round. kindly, smil
ing, head. had hooked itself over a balus
ter; not as a hideous gargoyle like the
one below, but as a calm, clear, evel
steadfast beacon light to his humble
home, and he mentally exclaimed. Goo
bless that loyal FACET as he at las
espied it aud smiled back its bright wei
come; though his heart sank within hin
as he reflected that he could bring il:
precious owner no other news than o.
hard, hard times and everywhere his OWL
i'll success and failure
And so out of the compassionate cow
ardice of his heart he began temporizinQ
again. Before he had turned upon his
own landing he stopped, reached up ovel
the stair-rail, drew his wife's face 10 hi:
own, kissed it tenderly, and still stand
ing on the stairs with his arm hal
around her waist, as he seemed 10 b,
merely r. c tine Ipieurplv from his afOr,