The record-union., 1894-02-17
DOROTHY HARDY'S MASCOT.

Copyright, 1894. All rights reserved.I
Hard times!
Hard times enough at any time for the
great world of toilers, fighting the sense
less battle for love and life and home.
Hard times!
Hard, fierce times now, when the
pulses of trade are stilled by the wrangles
of leaders of men; when the rich fly from
the presence Of poverty to the makeshift
of travel in foreign lands; when the mi
serly 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 lawgiv-
ers, temporarily safe behind their for
tress Of plenty and power. drowslly theo-
rize. speculate, quibble and delay; and
even when the apostemic heads OF great
Governments dawdle through weeks,
months, almost years, among the delu-
sions of diplomacy, the turpitudes of
place-giving, or the senilities of wrang-
ling with senates, while millions are
starving beside the rusting wheels of
trade.
Hard times!
Bitter dark, rayless hard times to the
wretched poor, with no outlook beyond;
with bowling blasts searching them out
to hurt and sting and scOurge; with
hunger pinching and with winter freeZ-
ing; 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 at last release them from
their pitlless struggle just to llve-k1nder,
tenderer and more compassionate lar tnan
the bland, flint-hearted inqulsltors 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 uncLu-
ously filling countless thousands of pau
per graves.
Hard times!
Numbers of the proud. victors over
the strong, Jewelers. of the many. how
their remorseless hand strikes where
least expected, snites in remote and un-
forseen places the half-attained fruitiOns,
and shifts and changes the relations OF
zfca. II all that measureless land be-
tween the wretched poor and the wretched
rich, the land which zones the world
with blessed aspiration and with build
inc and builded homes, how their blight
palsies the arm of effort and Of love!
How their threatening wraiths walk be-
side the father in his toll, the mother In
her endless helpings and hopings, the
student in his delvings, 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
may know, changing the cherished dreams
OF wears TO black pictures OF despair!
Liquidation, the great economists may
call them, but petretactlon IS the truer
word. And whoever shlrks, with
holds, or plays vulture with his fellow
man when such dark days are come, puts
back the hands OF universal human good
and progress on the dial face of time and
shall be known as an enemy OF his race
and kind.
Something like this was rumbling
through Richard Hardy's tired head and
discouraged heart as he walked the
streets of the great city OF New York, Tor
he had not the wherewithal 10 ride, and
saw the pitiful scenes OF want and suffer-
ing on every hand III that hard times
winter of 1894, finally coming, by cir
cuitous route to his own home in the sky
piercing Spuyten Duyvel Flats.
From q safe distance his near-slghted
ewes furtively and with dltncuIty through
his spectacles for a long time regarded
tine carved entrance to the Flats with its
candy glass, its gay chandelier, and its
rows of polished speaking tubes and
electric bells, hoping to escape the, at
that moment, most distressing ogre OF his
distressed poverty, their alert and watch
tul ianitress. At last he ValantIy plunged
into the entrance, touched his own bell,
ssNinth Floor. Rear" was inside the door
in an instant, and was making fine head
Nay up the stuffy stairs, when froWsy
head, with hatchet lace, hooking 1tsell
over the lower newel-post as II it had
been sprung from its capacious panels by
his guilty tread, snapped out,
''Mister Hardy :"
"Oh-ah?', he suammered, halting on
the last stair as if caught red-handedi in the
anartment house domestic crime of as
cending to his own dOmlclle without haY-
inc given account of himself. lis that
YOU, Mrs. Rasper?"
Yes, it's mel"
"Well, my dear Mrs. Rasper," he tenn
1oorized while his heart beat rapidly, for
he did not know just how TO handle the
virapo turnkey OF these modern pene-
tiarY home-ceIls without penny IN MS
nocket. 'what-what is it you wish?"
"Stuffp' chopped out the newel-post
Wen, frankly, my good woman. do
toop'
'.Coal IS outer your bin"
'Ah?"
.'Grocer IS rampin' round"
''Well, WELL" -,
'Milkman says youse givin' him tn
Bowery."
1.-THE Bowery?"
s'Yes, the faucet"
'sY es, th' d. B.''
"Well, we'll, WE'LL Pm surprisedr'
ssI amt. M tn landlord says rent
Saturday, er out youse CO."
t'Dear, dear!-not quite so loud, Mrs.
Rasper; there's a good woman; I'll see
about it at once; at once, Mrs. Rasper."
s.Youse betterr' And with this, the
frowsy head. hatchet face and biting
tongue of Mrs. Rasper. ianitress, disap-
peared into the newel-post or the equally
dark mahogany Somewhere with sharp
click and loud bang.
Up, up, up, he stumbled to where an
other head, a little, round, kindly, smil-
inc. head, had hooked itself over balus-
ter. not as a hideous gargoyle like the one
mellow. but as a calm, clear, ever steadfast
beacon light to his humble home, and be
mentally exclaimed, God bless that
Ioyal face" as he at last espied it and
smiled back its bright welcome, though
his heart sank within him as he reflected
that he could bring its precious owner
no other news than of hard, hard times
and everywhere his own i'll success and
failure.
And so out of the compassionate cow
ordice of his heart ne began temporiZlng
aqain. Before he had turned upon his
-, landino he stopped, reached up over