The San Francisco call., 1897-01-03

HkARK and drear as was the night;
HFSSAE cold as was the wind which blew
AZS rudely against the passer-by; few
and faint as were the stars that looked
through the breaks in the low-hanging
clouds, still she was sitting at the corner
asking aims.
She was frail little creature, and now
and then she shivered slightly and leaned
back against the lamppost. The black
Quaker bonnet which she wore made a
fitting frame for the white pinched face,
from which stared forth two sightless
eyes. In her hands-small and WELL
formed, but almost blue with the cold
she held an accordion.
Would she never stop playing? As fast
as she pumped the cold air into the rheu-
matte instrument she freed 1t again with
weird little gurgles of sound that had no.
relationship with each other nor with the
world into which they were born. and they
sank back into nothingness with wall,
like protest against being forced into an
unwelcome existence.
Are you cold?"
She stopped playing, more at the sound
of the coin which was dropped into the
tin cup at her side than at the words.
"Not very" she said family. Then she
leaned forward, and it may have been
raindrop, but it seemed like tear that
splashed down on the back of her hand.
II am tiredp' she said, and her lips
trembled.
"Have you received much to-dayP"
During holidays people are generous,
she replied.
"a cold night, madam" and a man
stepped in front of the little woman and
looked at me with a pair of cold gray
eyes, that were enough to send chill
clear through a Christmas sealskin. And
at the sound of the mans voice the woman
began the bellows-like movement. and
with sigh OF resignation the instrument
beIched forth another mouthful of dis
cord
But the mani What a typical villain !!
No doubt he compelled this poor creature
to sit there and play while he spent the
profits of his heartless scheme. He was
not coarse-looking. His face had a deathly
pallor; his gray mustache dropped grace
fully over his thinly chiseled lips, and un-
derneath the old and queerly shaped hat
was an abundance of iron-gray hair. His
overcoat was shabby and he had peculiar
walk, as though he was hardly able to lift
his feet; but the watch he kept on that
frail little woman was catIike. From the
other side of the thoroughfare I saw her
stand up, put the accordion under her
shawl, pick up her little campstool and
turn her face toward Montgomery street.
Curiosity overcame me. / followed.
Down Montgomery street and on, veyy
slowly, for her steps were uncertain, until
she had passed the crowd, and then she
paused in answer to low whistle and
leaned against a lamppost.
From the darker side of the street a
man appeared. He had on faded over
coat and a queerly shaped hat and he
walked with difficulty.
He took out a large bandana handker-
chief and held itspread out in his hands.
''What did you get?" 1 heard him ask.
For answer she gave him the little tin
cup. He emptied the contents into the
kerchief and tied it up carefully, then put
it into his overcoat pocket.
"It must be four or five dollars" he
said. 'Thats goodp'
Then he took her arm, and they walked
on slowly-very slowiy-up the hill to
Broadway. A young woman was stand
ing at the corner with child in her arms
and shawl wrapped about them both.
''Who are they?" she said. II know
them. The old mans spines been hurt,
and he can't do nothin', an the woman's
blind. She plays at the corners downtown
and he stays near to look after her. You
never see one without t'other. They got
hurt in fire, think, or somethin," she
went on. "The woman they live with
told me. They had a little girl baby, an
she died, and the mother can't see her
picture, so the man takes it an tells her
all about it every night The walls are
thin, you know, and they can hear every
thing. An then, she says, the woman
cries an takes on so an says she don t
want to live. Poor things! But they say