Year: 1872




not matter how or where she died.
She was so obscure, belonged to 50
common and poor q class, that no
notice of her death found Il place in
even the poorest paper, and no one
who knew her will read these words.
Only one Of those thousand of Or
binary lives, that day by day, end
unnoticed, no more missed by the
world than SO many burned-out
candies This woman had neither
beauty, nor wit, nor large culture;
she brought no gilt with her when
she was born to make her greatly
welcome to the world; never could
sing song, nor write n poem; was
not even fitted to reign in a drawing
room. She was only asweet voiced
gentle lady, full Of womanly affec-
ton and tendernesses, who had kept
her pure, childish beliefs unchanged
to middle age. She was little, sick
ly, shabbily clothed; she lived in a
tawdry house with glaring paper on
the walls, and torn, dirty mating
ON the floor; the air she brcathcd
was that of want and vulgarity;
year in and year out she worked q
machine, sewing dresses, for SER
wants and shop girls who bullied
her, not unreasonably, for she was
but poor semstress, if the truth
must be told. Her husband, Il
coarse grained, gossiping fellow,
tried this trade and that, became n
ward politician, did what he could
for his family, but felt that his wife
must do her share. He had been
used to raw-boned, stout Connccuti-
cut farm women, beside whom
she doubtless appeared inefficient
enough.


If others remembered how ten
derly nurturcd she had been as a
girl, and that the fortune she
brought him he had flung away, he
never did. Nor did She. They
were wretchedly poor, and it was
but just and proper that she should
work. SO she worked, stopping
now and then to give birth to an
other child, to be nurscd at the tired
breast, and watched and prayed
over with the blind, idolatrous de-
votion she gave to the others. Ger
tain logical moralists lay down as
axioms hat there can be no tragedy
without crime, and that no woman,
with love, husband and children,
ought to ask for more. This wo-
man never did ask for more. The
loud Dragging politician remained
her hero to the last. If her life
slowly dried and withered away, as
q tree might, tapped of all its juices
at the root, she thought it was her.
self that was to blame. This poor
lady was cursed with as finely
wrought an organization as any
favoritc of fortune; both body and
mind required companions of her
own caste, and that nutriment which
nature and art give but to few, but
which that few must have or die.
Besides, not even the strongest
woman can furnish bread and butter
for hou sefull of children, make
their clothes keep their souls pure
and their manners refined, and add
to the number every year, She was
not strong in any sense; so she
stitched, and nurscd and trained
them, with the dirty walls about her
and the torn mating under foot,
and the crowd of children grew
shabbier and coarscr and more yul-
gar day by day. One day an old
accomplishment Of her girlhood
required to her: flower painting,
molding in clay, designing-it does
not matter what; work, however, in
which her real nature would have
found food and expression, ard the
parativc affluence. She sent 4
pay for which would have been com
specimen of her work for trial,
which was approved but-men were
employed who had been trained to
business. Only the machine was
left, and the work for her children's
bodies and souls, that she could not
do. 1t grew and grew before her
sight until the day came when she
dropped as under an intolcrable bur-
den. AS she lay on the bed day
after day slowly dying, husband
and children were loud in sorrow
and astonishment. "How had she
come by such manifold diseases?
Machine work and the want of air?
1t was incredible" She struggled
with her work yet, sewed as she lay
Oh her back, drew her children close
to her with hungry, unsatisfcd
love in her eyes that they could not
understand. But as the hour came
for her to qnit the world that had
been SO niggardly of its comfort
or bounty to her, she was bcset with
restless fancics, which to her hus-
band seemed scarcely sane. "Shc
thinks if she could 'Sce and smell 4
thorny rose that "used to grow wild
about the farms down ''therc in
MARYLAND where she vas born "shc
would be well again. Now what
good could there be i'll a rose?"
He could not see why she would
make them put the children out of
the room, and turn out the gas that
she could not sec the machine, and
so lie looking up at the patch Of
sky above the brick walls. When
she was dead, he cried, 81 did, what
l could; ! am not to blame" And
it was true; no man can go beyond
his nature.


What was to blame? Not power
ty; not the working for bread and
butter; not the unequal marriage.
Since the world began King Cophe-
tuas have married beggar girls
untitled, and clothed them royalty
in their own flames, and Titanias
have rcjoiccd to worship an ass.
But if she had been taught practi-
cally the one occupa ton for which
her taste and ability fitted her? If
all woman were so thoroughly
taught such occupations that en-
ploymext would be open to them as
men. The answer matters nothing
| to her now. a day or two ago the