The Advocate and news., 1898-04-06
BY MABLE DIccs.


every wish granted, every desire salts
fed. They played together in that ele-
gantly furnished home as children should
play, with never care on earth.
When night came and the maid was
dressing them for the theater Doro-
thea's thoughts turned again to the for
lorn little one she had seen in the morn
ing. Amy" she said to the maid, Il
keep thinking about that dirty little girl
we saw to-day I'm 80 sorry II she Is
hungry. should like to have her take
tea with me some day, then | could
give her one of my pretty little dresses.
I have so many, you know. Amy, why
don't her papa give her pretty clothes to
wear?"
why, Dorothea," said Amy "You
must not think about such things She
is probably a naughty little girl and her
papa is wicked or lazy or he would work
hard and get rich like your papa"
And Dorothea was silenced. The pet
ted child Of fortune was not spoiled in
spite of her environment and her little
heart ached to help the unfortunate.
While the favored ones are going to
the lights and music Of the theatre, let
us return to that less favored one we
have spoken of. What was she doing
in a neighborhood where only the very
rich reside? She should return to the
slums from which she came. Poor little
one, although but ten summers had
passed over her head, her face was drawn
and pinched and so distorted with suf-
fering that she looked many years older.
A great grief was hers. Last night she
had seen her mamma die. "Ne did not
seem to die Of any disease, but because
for many days and years she had not had
enough to eat. Human nature could en-
dure privation no longer. The child saw
her mother starve to death. The despair
in her forsaken little heart was unspeak-
able. All day long she had wandered
over that big city, finding comfort no.
where. She had thought Of that time
long ago when mamma and papa were
happy and she played all day in their
pretty yard with all she could eat and
wear. How long ago 1t seems since she
had had anything to eat, but 1t is grow
ing dark and she is far from the miser-
able quarters she calls home. After
many miles of walking she stops before
rlCkety tenement house, up the steps
she climbs, and on the top story she
gropes her way through the darkness.
May" a plaintive voice cries. May,
Is that you?
Eyes, Robbie, dear, here is sister.
Where is papa? Have you had anything
to eat yet?
Papa hasn't come back yet, and Mrs.
O'Reiley says she saw him lying dead
drunk in an alley on James street." And
the little fellow burst into tears
Drunk, papa drunk? What did 1t mean?
It was the first time in all his life. But
not surprising, though, when man must
sit helplessly and watch the one dearest
to him ON earth starve to death. What
wonder he madly runs to drink in the
hopes Of drowning that overwhelming
sorrow for at least one moment. But the
: children, ah, yes, the children; they
have had no supper, no, nor breakfast
or dinner. Nothing all day long nor the
day before has eased that awful gnawing
at their little stOmachs. There is eight
year-Old Bobbie, who Is blind, and Bes-
sic, whose sickly little cry had only two
months before first added its little mite
to the unhappiness Of that miserable
family. And what can she do now that
mamma has gone? She must join her,
of course, for they have no money to
buy milk.
They could not eat, and May, taking
the baby in her arms, tried to amuse
them by reciting what she had seen
while away from home. Thus they fell
asleep. Morning dawned. May had
awakened from her night OF torture,