The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1894-01-14
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elIeet, ore udy. W escape ln6 pursuing
wrath of ChinamaD. whose pigtail he
had, in the exuberance of his youthful
spirits, attempted to swing upon, and one
broad wheel OF heavy truck passing over
his body, he had been picked up limp,
white and senseless, never to walk again.
HE cannot possibly live" the doctor
had said at the Receiving Hospital.
There can very little be done for him."
But little Jose had continued to live by
some miraculous rally in the small frame
OF tnOse mysterious powers that resist
death: After day or two Tony had
brought him home. and ever since then lie
mad lain in the bed in the little living
room. sometimes suffering keenly in every
uoer OF MS paln-racked body, sometimes
though less often passing days of CON-
paratlve freedom from pain, but bearing
pain and ease alike with an heroic forth
tude that during the six months that had
passed since the accident had made the
name OF Tony's Jose synonym for pa
tience throughout the quarter.
And almost from the day of the acct
dent great change began to be apparent
In the quarter. There were very few, even
OF the inmates of the big tenement, who
ever saw little Jose. There were
not many days. not many hours, in
fact, when his shattered nerves could
pear the presence of a stranger in the
room. BY degrees this came TO be under
stood through the wide-reaching common
consciousness underlying all our human
intercourse. "individuaP though we pride
ourselves upon being, and visitors ceased
TO come troubling the little sufferer. But
they would walt on the stairways or in
the halls or at the street corners and watch
Iony's face as he went to his work in the
morning. and form from it their cnnclu-
slons as to how the boy was doing. He is
DETER. they would say to each other il
the little bootblack passed with an elastic
70 hall
look on the brown face, but if the heavy
feet dragged and the sad face was bent to-
ward the earth they would look sadly at
one another and shrink ont of sight of the
heavy-headed little man, saying: "The
boy i worse"
Have you heard how little Jose is to-
day?" came to be the common form of
greeting in the quarter, and all strife and
noisy contention was hushed in the hall
ways lest the sound OF il should reach the
keen ears In the little room on the top floor,
Tessa Manual met Mia Suza on the
stairs one day. They had not met so face
to face since the day they had quarreled
and fought over a certain flatiroD that
Iessa had borrowed, and which in some
wav had mysteriously disappeared-fought
SO hercely that 'steen hundred and ten had
been called IN TO separate the combatauts.
and had only been able TO do so after sharp
threats OF arrest and 1.-THE tanks il they
h4h Quib bDtlL uUUS6USb. Clnc6 L0en
IeSSa would cross the street rather than
meet Mia. and Nita would have sprung
from window rather than TO descend
staircase which she saw Tessa was ascend
ing. But Mia had seen Tessa speak to
Tony in the lower hall, and when they met
midway of the stairs she stopped and re-
garded her enemy with softened eyes.
"HOw is the little boy this day?" she
asked, In the patoIs Of the Azores. and
Tessa had replied, "He Is NO worse" and
the two had smiled the remembrance of
their enmity into oblivion.
Every evening there would be some
little offering left at the door for Jose.
OttentlmeS there was no way by which
the giver might be known. The gifts
were never much. The people were poor
aud times were hard; half the men in the
quarter were earning a precarIous livel-
hood at odd jobs. but the little lad was
never forgotten. More than once Manuel
Brlsha. the greatest drunkard in the quar-
ter, had gone without drink to buy Jose
little bunch Of violets. ana Manuel had
not been on spree now for months, be-
cause on the occasion of his last one he
had made a racket outside the door that
had frightened the boy so that he mad a
terrible night and day of unusual suffering.
Nobody talked about feeling tenderly
toward the poor. hurt lad. They were
poor, ignorant people. all unused to ex-
press any feeling save hatred and
rage. but day by day, as Tony's
dark face grew more and more
anxious as he went away in the
morning, and he came hurryng home at
an earlier hour at hight, day by day, as
Britta, the mother, went less and less fire.
quently upon her small necessary errands,
and it became known that the boy was
slowly sinking, great hush fell over the
grim old tenement. Men came and went
softly, women spoke quietly in the hall
ways and hushed the noise of the children
on the stairs. Busy, careworn mothers,
hurrying out on their iown errands,
brought what they knew Britta would
need and left it softly at her door. They
we're rough, uncultured people, but human
tenderness taught them a higher refine
ment than the treatises on etiquette ever
could; and in the rare times when they
met her now in the halls they never asked
after the little boy. only wished her
"Good-morning" and Gods strength"
One day lazy Michele, the vere st idler
in the whole quarter, recognizing from the
hushed voices every where that Jose was
worse, trudged down to the bootblack's
stand at the corner and sent Tony back to
the bedside of his boy, while he took bis
place and worked vigorously, bringing
Tony plentiful handful of nickels at
night.
The days passed rapidly. and word went
through the building that Jose was dying.
Lisa, who had been apprenticsd TO the
miliner's trade, but who had come and
gone SO strangely CT late that dark hints
that should come near no young girls
name were beginning to be whispered
about her in the quarter. Lisa came one
morning with her hands full of delicate
waxen roses, pale pink ana exquis-
itely fragrant. She was just making
them fast to the doorknob. when Brit
ia suddenly opened the door and APP
peared before her. The girl stood, hestant
and embarrassed. gazing at her. Finally,
They are for JOSE" she said, half-im-
pIoringly, and after one earnest look into
the tender eyes Britta took the flowers,
and, drawing 'Lisa's face duwn toward
her. softly Kissed her forehead. The half
hard look that was becoming habitual in
'Lisa's eyes was wholly gone as she went
softly down the stairs, and she went to the
shop that morning and asked to be taken
back to work.
What was there about the spectacle of
one poor little stricken boy so to move the
hearts OF people struggling hard for life
amid world of comrettion, people not
given to thought? Who knows? What is
there but common humanity between US
all? What is il that makes you vince and
shiver when you see fello w-creature
hurt? There Is something in you that is
hurt and suffers with him, and this some