The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-12-20
NEWS OF THE DAY ON GREAT "WHlTE WAY"
(Rv Louis L.e Brun.l

New York, Dec. zp-ChristInas i;. New York! The pen of a Dante, the genius of a Dore, could not encom- pass that subject. Always a city of lights and shadows, the American metropolis becomes at Christmastide a place of terrible contrasts. Wealth and want rub shoulders in the streets, and now, more than ever, want en- vieS and hates wealth. The IIunoi- nation of the holiday spirit serves to bring into greater relief the skulking figures of misery and despair.
 Peace on earth, good will to men, is a sentiment that seems but hollow mockery to those in the tenements, the slum sweatshOps, the cheap Iodg- ing houses and other brick warrens where hordes of hungry, hopeless hu- mans are huddled.
 At Christmas, charity seeks to build a temporary bridge across the chasn that separates Broadway and the Side, plenty and poverty, but the gulf remains. Even while the victims of penury and privation gorge greedily at the banquet provided by .pIl lam thropy, black hatred may seethe in their hearts for the more fortunate ones who have spread the feast.
 Poor Losing Humility.
 The poor, at least in New York, are losing their humility. The other day I walked through the most congested
 
 there the pitiful preparations for Christmas cheer were in evidence. Sal walton Army collectors, clad in Santa Claus garb, sought aims from the poor to provide a holiday dinner for those even poorer than themselves. IIl-c1ad workmen and pinched and ha1f-starv- ed factory girls contrib uted from their meager store. Street vendors hawked their cheap toys and dolls and paltry baubles.
 
 the poor the screen depicted a drama based on a plot so ancient as to be threadbare. It was Christmas eve. The place a bare room in a tenement. Two little children hung up their stockings, then went to bed. The heart-broken employment, buried his face in his. hands.
 Business of grief''
 Then the man arose, determination writ large on his haggard features He went out into the night. You knew that he was going to commit a burglary, that the little daughter of the rich man whose house he entered would Inevitably catch him in the act, that the rich man, revolver in hand, would appear upon the scene, listen to the sobbing story of the amateur burglar, and that the little girl would plead with her father, and that he would relent, and would accompany the poor man to ms nome, Iad6n With baskets of food and staggering under a weight of gifts which had been in tended for the daughter of the rich, but which were now destined to glad den the hearts of the children of the tenement. few years ago the mag nanimity of the rich man elicited a storm of cheers; now it provoked only misses. I asked a man who sat by me why he hissed.
 Because it is a 1e," was his reply. Because the burglar would have been sent to prison, and his wife and chil- dren left to starve. Because have had industry and frugaIity preached l to me all my life T have worked ten hours day for ten years. Amt that frugaIity?'
 He glared at me, as if I were one of his oppressors-
 Two or three times a year I get desperate for a change, and spend a nickel to see the pfctures-and they feed me this rot It couldn't happen, I tell you, and even if it did Christmas is only, one day a year, and good Christmas dinner ain't going to keep you alive for twelve months.''
 No, he said, he wasn't a, socialist. Didn't know anything about it. Didn't | know. of any remedy, excvept to go out and take, and go to jail for 1t, and