Evening star., 1897-05-15

" he, heads. =s:, ; :,.,.nss, TO-, sss, Ss.
made to me recently by a woman who one
time was a woman of wealth and fashion,
| but is now reduced TO the last extremity of
poverty. She spoke I'm tones of anguish.
the tears trickling do xn her colorless, care
scanned face. / heard her. as every one
must, with pity in my heart, but-shall
confess it?-in my mind reason prompted
| the question whether she not I'm some
| way responsible for the extreme helpless
ness of her situation. Surely. thought J.
| among all the splendidly equipped charities
of Washington that aim specially to assist
| women in need. 1t is some perverse will of
| this poor mother that fixes her distress
| Finally, to know the truth about 1t, | set
forth myself to work out the problem of
this woman's lot.
l searched the advertising columns of the
| daily papers: l visited employment
| bureaus, and 1 applied for relief to every
| charity for women in the city. The result
\ OF all my experience was TO teach me this:
To her that hath shall be given; and
from her that hath not shall be taken
| away, even her little children.
Because this mother is resolved to part
| with life rather than with her children, she
may beg, but she may not work, unless she
drag her soul through the mire of sim If
she will do that, if she will add the eternal
misery Of immortality to her burden. and
| then seek help, there are several pleasant
| homes open to her, where she may have
not only work and care for her children
provided her, but where she may enjoy
love, fine sentiments and gentle friends. not
| to mention ice cream socia bies and piano.
In short. needy, worthy mother is mere
| rubbish in the business relations of the
| world, and here in Washington for the re-
| lief of such charity offers-orphan asylums,
where she may strip herself of her children.
or, If she dislike to improve her condition
by parting with her children, she may part
| with her honor and live comfortably ever
| after.
This conclusion has more than very brief.
| insufficient experience to sustain it. 1 cited
the instance of my poor friend to Mr..
! Lewis, agent of the board of chdrens
| guardians. who daily throughout the year
| has to do with just such cases. With the
| knowledge OF his broad experience, Mr..
| Lewis said to ME:
Il do rot know any place in Washington
where respectable and self-respecting
| woman can obtain help and keep her chill
| dren with her."
The Natural Course.
In proving the truth of this 1 followed
| the natural course a self-respecting woman
would pursue appealing last of all to
charity and first trying business means of
| assisting one to self-help.
| At the employment bureaus. save those
| ~ StCl1c z lee. VIII promise you
| anything from paradise to a government
| Job, received the invarIdble reply:
| We never have p place for a woman
with two children. Occasionally We are
| able to get work I'm the country for a wo-
| man with one child. but that is so very
rare as to be quite in the nature of an ac-
ciGent."
| Pending the time when a woman I'm need
/ of employment would be driven to ask aid
from charity, TO keep a crust in the cup
beard. she is the natural victim of the chat
| tel mortgage agent and the pawnbrokcr-
| the former is more TO be dreaded of the Two
He caters cunninsly to ,he prejudices of re-
| spectability. l visited two. quite as muc
at my ease as would enter a bank-indeed
more SO. There is the insensibili.y of
greenbacks about the very flesh and blood
| of a bank cashier, a glitterng GOLD basis
gleam about the glance of his eyes that al
ways unnerves me. l am mortally afraid
| OF every bank cashier l ever saw They
all seem tc suspect me of an intent to steal
ana am never sure l will not steal before
get away from them, i'm obedience to the
hypnotic cynicism of their ha-d-cash souls
But the chatte, mortgage shark-bless him.
70 sooner pushed through his plate-glass
door than his sympathetic heart seemed TO
reach out over the counter behind which he
stood, enveloping my miseries with the pal
hating atmosphere of his humanity, and,
behold. my friend in need was found
How much money do you want?r he
asked me instantly.
"One hundred dollars" I answered. and
then asked him the conditions on which
could get it.
"One hundred dollars will cost YOU SIS,
month. We take a promissory note
frc:n you; also chattcl mortgage on YOUR
furniture. We have an official appraiser
who assesses the value of your furniture
at about one-fifth. OF course we have to
value 1t low to protect ourselves YOU know
We give you the money for one month
with the privilege of extending the time
to six months Any payment you make
meantime reduces your interest propor-
tionately."
And at the end of six months il 1 cam
not pay, do you take my furniture?'
Er-well, you know, six months is
very long time, don't you know? And
cr-well, you know, we would-ah-like. to-
dent you know. but"
Exisencies of Business.
A humble and an expressive mournful
nod. which 1 as mournfully returned, as
sured me that he would have to take my
furniture then in the exigencies of busi-
ness. but, SO far as his tender nature was
involved. he was my brother until death.
The two chattel mortgage brothers WIS.,
tied offered me the same terms, and either
would let me have the money at once
The ease with which 1 thus could put
money In my pocket by risking 500 worth
OF furniture, incurring debt of 500 with
interest at rate which, reckoned by the
year. would be the enormous figure of 30
per cent, caused me to know the reason of
a statement / have heard frequently from
a practical sociologist:
''Chattel mortgage loans are q curse to
the poor. They make ii so easy for a
person in distress to get money on his small
possessions, and the poor man so commonly
finds 1t impossible to meet the obligations
involved that almost before he knows what
has happened he is destitute of all the
household goods that he has been years In
accommodating. a state of affairs that CON-
monty makes him SO desperate that the
worst is hone too bad for him after that"
In accord with this I next went to the
pawnbroker's. The abode Of that last
friend of poverty. my uncle-your uncle
everybody's uncle-was a dingy hole in the
wall. having the appearance within of an
arsenal. such a large and bristlng display
was there of all sorts Of firearms, revol-
vers predominating. This array of deadly
weapons 80 sufficiently intimidated me that
it Was with quite the meek air. of misfor-
tune asked how much could get for
the dress l wore. My dear good uncle
after satisfying himself that st was brand
new, all wool and consider ably more than
a yard wide, would let me have 81 on II.
Then hesitatingly offered my wedding
ring. r. half expected this would cause
my uncle Ito burst into tears, and over
whclm me with his charity Not so, Eox-
ever WEDDINGS rings for