The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1898-04-09
sa-asaa 50
The Coral Cross.
A SKETCH FROM LIFE.

| SKETCH FROM LIFE
IL was a. miserable little atti,
room, and the wind complained
for lack of material, as it swep
through the cracks, and hustlns
the scanty ashes from the CRATE
scattered them over the dying maj
who lay in q corner Of The room
on d pallet of straw. BY his aide
knelt little woman clothed in
shabby black. Suddenly the sick
man opened his eyes, and called
hoarsely for liquor. "Get me q
drink, Mother, you know Won
can. "lndeed, l will net my
SON. VI say you shall, don't
know you've got tho means. 2
But his mother steadily refused
although she knew it was his last
request. Ned should not die in.
toXlcated, oh no. SO tar into
the night, he continually cal
led for liquor to quenCh his burn
ing thirst, until Death spread her
chilled mantle over his wretcbed
body, and stllled that voice. and
bore his soul away to Judgment.
The dawn stole softly into the
presence Of Death, and the sun
peeping oyer her shoulder, touch
cd with tender radiance, the dead
mans face, and made halo above
the head of the shabby little wo.
man who stood by the window,
looking With tear,dimmned eyes
at q pale pink cross of coral set
with diamonds which 'sparklod in
her hand, Ned pawped. it many
q time, she murmhred, but some
how, l have always managed to
redeem it; now It must furnish
means TO bury him; he shan't be
buried like pauper. Putting on
her bonnet, she hurried from the
room. Shall we follow her? MS
she wends her way, among the
purse-proud, and the poor, until
she finally enters a pawn shop and
slips into the private office whore
she waits her turn. See the busy
proprietor as he coolly robs the
poor defenceless creatures. Why
It would make a stone weep. "Ob
can't lot you have another cent
on 1t, my price or nothing" and
so 1t goes on. The old woman,
with rags TO pawn, blear-eyed
men, with their mothers bible, or
wives trinkets, the little girl pawn.
ing her shoes for bread; they are
all there. Then our little mother
makes her way to the counter,
with the coral cross clasped in
her thin hand hidden under her
shawl. The usual hard bargain
being driven, the little woman
huri'ics from the room, her ewes
are 50 blinoed bv tears that She
almost upsets a lady who is lust
entering. Each go their separate
ways, the mournei to her shabb,
home, and the fashionable lad,
IN search OF coral, enters the
proprietor's Office to make inquir,
concerning it. madame" saws
he, 81 have the very thing here
which | am sure is just what vol
want. He produces the coral cross
The lady gazes one instant on tn,
bauble, then laughing hystericaI
ly, she faints. The pawn-brokeI
sprinkles her face with water
much to the detriment of he
ribbons and laces, On recoverin,
she implores him to ten her wher,
he got the cross. "The woman
who passed out when you entered
pawned the coral to me-" and he
sad story is soon told. "Thi
cross belonged to her in palm
days before the war, but sickness
and death, and a drinking son
had made her poorer and poorer
until she lived in a little atti
room, and made shirts for a living
She had starved herself, to obtai
food and medicine for her onl
son, but at last, the end had com
and she had come to pawn tn
last thing she possessed to bu
him coffin that he might not b
buried like a pauper, that is al
madame, said the proprietor. Th
lady thanked him and hurrie
away with the coral cross presse
: close in her soft pink palm. Whe
she arrived at the house she en-
tered softly, the little woman wa
J kneeling by the corpse, her brow
, head was bowed on his bosom
J "Margret,p called the visitor sof
ly"Sister Margret pbut Margret
soul was far away; singing an
thenls to her Maker.
, OTTo FoRREsTEg.
II -
Sagasta has one of the oual;6o