Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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j ***##***#****#♦*«**#*****★*##*♦♦******«**♦***»»***» 4H ♦ < + < *' ♦ ' *' *• ^*i*i******»*f*ff* REFORMER By CHARLES M. SHELDON, Auflnr of “In His Steps," “Robert Hardy’s Seven Days,” Etc. Copyright, 1901, by CharUs M. Sheldon it* >? t , lu his suddeu appeal to this long dis tant but never forgotten experience John (Jordon made the one plea that perhaps could have moved Philo Marsh sufficiently to overcome his repugnance to every form of human suffering. He remained silent a moment; then, lifting his eyes to Gordon, he said gravely: "Very well, I’ll go with you. When shall we go?” “I will suit my time to your conven ience. I would like to have you note the conditions by day and night. I can go with you any time.” “Say tomorrow afternoon and night, theu.” “Will you take dinner with Miss An drews at Hope House?” John Gordon ventured to say. Mr. Marsh hesitated. “Why, yes, I will if it is customary.” “I know Miss Andrews will welcome you. Tomorrow at 2, if that will suit you, I will meet you here, and we can Inspect the tenements, take dinner at 0 and go out again for a look at night. Thank you.” John Gordon spoke with quiet but deep satisfaction. He had scored an important point. How important he did not know, but it was a vital be ginning to any influence he might hope to exert over the property owners. As he started to go out, Mr. Marsh spoke slowly: “About Luella? There is no prospect of an agreement between you?” “Not any that I can see.” “Pm sorry.” The words were genu ine, and John Gordon was touched by them. “Thank you, Mr. Marsh!” He shook hands firmly and went out with a tear In his eye, but it was not the same as that which the interview with his own father had provoked. “Thank God! He seems to have a heart, at least!” John Gordon ex claimed as he went down into his Ge henna again. Between 2 and 3 o’clock the next day Mr. Marsh and John Gordon were in Bowen street and standing in front of the building on lot 91, known as the “dumbbell tenement,” which, accord ing to one famous tenement house com mission, “is the one hopeless form of tenement construction. It cannot be well ventilated; it cannot be well light ed; it is not safe in case of lire; direct light is only possible for the rooms at front and rear. The middle rooms must borrow what light they can from dark hallways, the shallow shafts and the rear rooms. Their air must pass through other rooms or tiny shafts, and cannot but be contaminated before it reaches them.” (New York tenement commission, 1891.) John Gordon could not help noticing the shrinking manner of Mr. Marsh. The man seemed to be under an influ ence that could not be fear or even compassion. It was rather a mingling of disgust and physical dread. “Shall we go in?” John Gordon said, looking at his companion curiously. “Wait a moment,” cried Marsh. "I want to look at the street.” The two men stood still, and the older for the first time in his life saw a sight that he had never dreamed could ex- /A*', “It is none of i/our business!" lat In a dvllized city that was at least nominally Christian. It would be impossible to picture Bowen street by means of a photo graph. No skill of the photographer or artist could reproduce the scene, and human language is as weak as the brush or camera to tell the story. The street swarmed with children. It was midsummer and the day Itself Iras hot, but not one of the hottest of Ihe season. There was not a tree or shrub or flower, not a bit of grass, not even a weed to relieve the dull, sicken ing look of sun smitten brick and wood and [ tone. In front of every other house stood a garbage box, or what bad once been one. The majority of these boxes were rotting heaps of boards without covers, overflowing with wet stuff composed of decaying vegetables* the sweepings from tTic tables of the people anti the litter of paper, tin cans and refuse that had not been disturbed by inspectors or garbage wagons for several weeks. There was not a whole piece of side walk on either side of the street. Pieces of rotting plank stood on end or lay partly over the alleys, in some cases thrust down between the decaying tim bers, sticking above the regular level, a hideous menace, a miserable object lesson, out of hundreds more, of the mournful fact of municipal incompe tency and debauchery of machine poli tics. Mr. Marsh learned afterward that more than 1,500 suits were pending against the city for serious injuries due to the defective sidewalks and that the sum total of damages claimed was more than $22,500,000. (See proceed ings of regular meeting of Chicago city council Jan. 8, 1900.) The children in the street were playing, quarreling, digging in the garbage boxes, in many instances picking bits of decayed lem ons. bananas and oranges out of the gutter. One group of boys was tormenting a miserable cat. Aaother group was yell ing at a police officer who had just or dered them out of the street, where they had been trying to have a game of ball. Over the steps of the tenement entrances, some of them high enough to be designated “stoops,” women hold ing sick babies or little girls staggering under the load of a child two or three years younger filled up the picture of sodden, unkempt, disheveled, tired out humanity that turned that awful street into a human hell, where no alleviating bit of cheer or relief was inserted to give one ray of hope for the future. The only buildings in front of which there were no steps were the saloons. These averaged live to a block and one on each corner. The corner saloons, with a few exceptions, also had at- t ched to them vaudeville halls, with staring lamp signs, “Free Vaudeville," hung out over the entrances. It has been said that no living being ever successfully described Bowen street so that a person who never saw it could have even the faintest concep tion! of its truth. Mr. Marsh had never seen anything like it, and all his read ing had never given him any idea whatever of the reality. He stared at it all now in a bewildered, almost frightened manner that grasped only a part of the terrible significance of it all. Finally he turned to John Gordon and said with a tone in which irrita tion was the dominant aote: “Why don’t some of these children go over and play in the Hope House playgrounds instead of rolling in this awful filth? I understood you to say that Hope House had a playground.” John Gordon looked at Mr. Marsh at first with a feeling of indignation, which rapidly changed to one of sad ness. “How many children can play in a space shut in and bounded by a lot less than 50 feet wide and 100 feet long? It is crowded to overflowing now. Do you know how many years Miss An drews pleaded and begged and prayed and turned mountains of selfish indif ference and commercial greed to get that little playground?” “I have no Idea. Hadn’t we better go inside now?” Mr. Marsh replied feebly. “Let’s got through with it I had no idea it was all so horrible. Of course this is unusually bad, isn’t it?” “There are fifty other streets as bad or worse within two miles of Hope House.” “Why don’t they get new garbage boxes at least?” Mr. Marsh exclaimed In the same Irritated manner. He had begun by being sick at the sight of the fearful conditions. He was now grow ing angry. “Who do you mean by ‘they,’ Mr. Marsh?” John Gordon said, with some bitterness. “The landlords? The city ordinance makes it obligatory on the landlords to furnish and keep in good repair garbage boxes sufficient in size to accommodate the number of fami lies in their tenements.” Mr. Marsh looked at the box In front Of his own double decker and said nothing. It was a rotten apology for what had once been a small box. It had only three sides and no cover. It was filled to overflowing, and crowning the heap of stench was a dead chicken swarming with maggots. It was a fair sample of every other box in Bowen street, and in its loathsome and nuked uncleanness it stjod there in the blaze of the pitiless sun a dumb but ghastly and over whelming witness against the cultured indifference of the men who are not willing to be their brother’s keepers so long as they can live luxuriously on their brother’s needs at a distance from all suffering and responsibility. They went into the narrow court that separated the rear from the front of the building, and John Gordon pointed out the deadly nature of the construc tion. “There is no direct sunlight in any of these rooms that open on the court All light and air must enter either where we did or come in from the top!” He uttered the word in time to pre vent Mr. Marsh from stumbling over a projection in the shape of a raised plat- fprm built put jfrpm the side wall shortening the distance between the main walls of the court. The use of the platform was, as he afterward learned, to furnish a little additional room for hanging out clothes, which were suspended above the platform on a series of racks. The floor of the court or passageway between the two wings of the “dumb bell” was slippery with tilth of every description. In the semidarkness which prevailed in spite of the sun’s glare outside could be seen pale, tired wo men with sallow, dirty faces, peering out from doorway and window. The heat was stifling, as not a breath blew in at either end of the passage, and the odor was overpowering. Mr. Marsh hesitated. “I don’t know that I care to go in,” he said almost in a tone of fear. “Too late to back out now, Mr. Marsh. Come! It will do you good. Make you more contented with your home on the boulevard,” John Gordon said grimly. He greeted the group of women In the doorway, and they returned his greeting civilly enough, for he was wearing his regular inspector’s badge, authorized by the board of health, and besides all that he had already in the course of his brief study made friends in the block. Almost the first step they took from the doorway plunged them into dark ness. Gordon had hold of Mr. Marsh’s arm and was silent until they came to the tirst flight of stairs at the end of the passage. “Have to be a little careful here, sir,” he cautioned. “This is an old part, joining your part from the rear. It was on the lot when your agent looked over the space, and he built up to the limit and a little moi-e. In fact, he broke six distinct ordinances in using up the space that ought to have been left open between the new build ing and the old. But that was nothing to him, for it added six feet to the double decker, and that meant twelve additional bedrooms. Have care here. Some of the stair treads are broken.” Mr. Marsh uttered an ejaculation, and Gordon stopped. “I feel ill. I don't believe I can go on. Gordon. This is terrible. It is past belief that human beings can live in such conditions.” “They don’t all live, sir. Some of them die. But it’s almost ns bad to die in here as to live. You ought to see a funeral in one of these tene ments.” “God forbid!” exclaimed Mr. Marsh emphatically. “Honestly, Gordon, it may seem absurd to you, but I am growing sick from the awful stench here. 1 doubt my ability to go on.” Gordon made no answer. After a moment Mr. Marsh said feebly: “All right. I’ll try to stand it.” Without any reply John Gordon, still keeping his hand on his companion’s arm, began to go up the stairs. Under their feet they could feel- the slimy filth that had accumulated for weeks. Half way up something passed them going down. It was a little girl about eight years old carrying in her arms a baby. In the dim light which filtered through the hall at the top of the (light the two men could hardly make out this child of the tenements, burdened long years before the time with a hu man responsibility, robbed of play ground and childhood and thrust into a world of suffering and discomfort. Poor mournful creature, a woman in gravity and a child in years, bending your dirty face over the gasping little sister in your slim arms, sitting on the steps late into the night with the bundle that may actually die in your arms, and no one but yourself feel much grief if it does. Child of the tenements, you do not know it, but it Is a beautiful world that God has made. There are trees and flowers and clear water and per fumed zephyrs and grass dotted with bloom. But oh, for you, little sister, who shall reveal its beauty, who shall discover to you its glory, O child of the tenements, in the great city by the lakes? At the top of the stairs John Gordon paused a moment and then turned to the left and led bis companion along to a doorway opening on a corridor looking out on the airshaft. A railing ran around this corridor, and leaning over it were a number of persons, most ly women, some of them bolding ba bies, others doing some kind of work. One woman at the end of the corridor was preparing some dish for supper. The stench that rose from the court below was made doubly intolerable by the smoke from the chimneys of the rear tenements on the adjoining lot. which drifted into the corridor and swept into every doorway. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Caylor. How is the little boy today?” "Poorly, sir. Will you go in and see him?” Then she glanced suspiciously at Mr. Marsh and added: “But you can’t do anything for him. Better leave him be." “This is Mr. Marsh, Mrs. Caylor. He is the owner of the building. He wants to see some of the rooms. We can go In?” The woman’s face lighted up just for a second, then all died out to that dull indifference which has long ago lost all hope of anything better farther on. “I don’t care,” she answered with sullen indifference. John Gordon at once turned into the room, and Mr. Marsh reluctantly fol lowed. There were two windows, but both opened on the corridor. Gordon walked across to an opening and turned to beckon to Mr. Marsh, who had stopped. “I want you to see a specimen of a dark bedroom, Mr. Marsh. You don’t need to visit more than one. But it is worth knowing that there are hun dreds more like this one.” Mr. Marsh came across to Gordon’s side. “This is more terrible than 1 ever dreamed,” he said in a whisper. “Nothing when you get used to it. ■ «ar".. >*«>. • sir. Let’s step in. There isn’t much to see.” They entered the room, which was absolutely dark except for the light that entered through the room they had just left. Gordon felt his way un til his hand touched something, and then he said gently: “Louie, how are you today?” “Not very well. That you, Mr. Gor don ?” “Yes. I’ve brought you something. Here. Catch on, little man.” “It's tine!” the thin eager voice ex claimed. “Don’t tell mother. She’ll take it away.” . “No, no, Louie. She won’t. The doc tor will let you have it,” John Gordon said reassuringly, md then he was si lent. Mr. Marsh as close by, and botli men stood s dl a moment. In the stillness a distinct rustling sound could be heard. It was like the rustling of tissue paper or the scratch ing of small mice. “What’s that?” Mr. Marsh asked. “Wait a minute; I’ll show you,” Gor don answered quietly. “Shut your eyes, Louis. I’m going to light a match.” He struck the match and held it up. The pale light revealed in the few seconds that the match burned a bro ken bedstead and a ragged, filthy mat tress on which lay a child about ten years old. The walls of the room had once been papered before the double decker hud been constructed so that some of it had blocked up the win dows that had once opened on the rear lot. This paper now hung in festoons and strings all over the ceiling, and Mr. Marsh, looking in horror at the sight, in that brief moment, not too brief to tell one whole story of the tenement house hell, saw countless swarms of bugs and vermin crawling' over the paper. It was that that had made the noise. The match flickered and went out. There was a moment of silence, broken by Gordon, who said cheerfully: “All right, Louis! Keep up good heart. I’ll try to get in and see you tomorrow.” “Thank you, Mr. Gordon." Mr. Marsh pulled at Gordon’s arm. “For God’s sake, Gordon, let’s get out of here. I’m growing sick. I shall faint.” “Come out into the fresh air!” Gor don said ironically. They went out into the corridor, and Mr. Marsh in his eagerness to get out of the building did not even stop to reply to several of the women who had learned from Mrs. Caylor that he owned the double decker and crowded up to complain about the garbage boxes and the drainpipes. While Gordon was talking with Mrs. Caylor about Louis, Mr. Marsh went down, hurried as fast as he dared through the lower court, and when John Gordon came out he found him seated on the outer steps, deathly pale and actually sick. Gordon grimly eyed him. ‘It's only 4 o’clock. We’ll have time to do the other. There are some fea tures of No. 97 that are peculiar. I would like to have you see them.” “I cannot go, Gordon. It’s out of the question. lam too ill.” “Let’s go over to Hope House, then,” John Gordon said gravely. Mr. Marsh, with difficulty, walked over to Hope House. On the way Gor don said: “There is an ordinance which says that there shall be spaces between front and rear tenements, graduated according to the height of the building. If the tenement is one story high, there must be ten feet between front and rear; if two stories, fifteen feet; if four stories, twenty-five feet, etc. Your agent deliberately ignored this law and built your double decker so as to cover all the space. In doing so be deliberately established a condition that permitted of no light in a dozen bedrooms like the one we went into. More than that, he created conditions that breed anarchy, for if the rich and cultured citizens of this municipality for their own gain selfishly trample on the laws of the city what can they ex pect from the poor and the desperate and the ignorant but hatred of all so ciety?" “I’m too sick to discuss It,” Mr. Marsh groaned. Gordon saw that he was actually suffering severely, and when they entered Hope House he gave him careful attention. It was only a- temporary indisposi tion. however, and after resting an hour Mr. Marsh recovered sufficiently to sit up and expressed some mortifl- cation at the way he had behaved. But his manner was very grave, and the •experience of his visit to the build ing was evidently making a profound impression on him. To Gordon’s disappointment, Miss An drews had been called away and was not present at the evening meal. Mr. Marsh was able to be at the table with the residents and was a close listener to the talk, although he said little. “Do you feel equal to a little work this evening, Mr. Marsh?” Gordon asked after the residents had adjourned to the library and had begun to scatter for their several duties. “1 think so; yes,” Mr. Marsh an- swered. He was really ashamed of his Inability to endure unusual sights of disagreeable human suffering. “Then perhaps we had better visit one of the vaudeville halls. I want you to see how the saloon, as a political In stitution, comes in to supplement the absence of home life. Perhaps it will help you to understand better. If you want to, why the tenement house con ditions are not interfered with and why it is to the interest of the politi cian that the people suffer ns far as endurance will go In the matter of no homes.” At 9 o’clock. In company with an offi cer in citizen’s clothes who was de tailed to look after Hope House dis trict, Gordon and Marsh entered one of the vaudeville halls joining a corner saloon on Bowen street. Mr. Marsh was unusual’y excited. His university training, his exclusive, refined culture, his sensitive habits, were all the exact opposite of everything he had felt ami seen since he entered Hope House dis trict. He went in with Gordon, and they took seats in the rear of the saw dust covered floor in a hall that would hold 200 persons. They faced a gaudily painted curtain, which let down in front of a small stage. The hall rapid ly tilled up with men and boys. »The air was heavy with the fumes of beer and tobacco. The night was sultry, and at the saloon bar, which was visible through the doorway opening into the hall, could be seen a long line of men and women drinking, while others stoed behind the line reaching their hands over for glasses or waiting their turn to get up to the bar itself. Three violins, a harp and a piano be gan to play, and the curtain went up. At that very moment in Christian homes all over America good women kneeled at clean beds by the side of pure hearted little children to repeat the evening prayer to the good God. But will the time speedily come when little voices shall swell the thunder of the good God’s wrath against an insti tution that carries into homeless des erts of the great cities the plague of death, the foul touch of lost virtue for the sake of gold? DARING HOLD-UP ON NORTH PACIFIC Highwaymen Cover Train With Winchesters. EXPRESS CAR WAS DYNAMITED. This story will be continued in next Friday’s issue of The Ledger. The scratch ot a pm may cause th loss ot n limb or evei ) death wher blood poisoning results from the ir jury. All danger of this may b avoided, however, by t romptly app^J ing Chan berlain’s Pm n Balm. It i an antisef tic and quirk healing lir i m: nt for i uts. bruise*- and burns. Fo sale by Cl erok<*p Dreg Co.. Gaffney 8. C.. or T . D. AlHcnn. Cowpens. Stir up a man’s wrath if you watt his candid opinion of you. To Care a Cold lu One Day Take Laxative Brorao Quinine Tab lets. All druggists refund the monej if it fails to cure. E. W. Grove’s sig nature is on each box. 2ac. CONSOLIDATION SCHEME. Final Transaction In ’Frisco Street Railway Deal. Saji Frajuusco, Feb. 5.—The Chron icle says that the New York banking house of Bi’own Bros, has closed its aceoi. with the underwriting syndi cate of local and eastern capitalists which was organized last year to fa cilitate the purchase and consolida tion of the several San Francisco street railway properties now em braced in the United Railroads sys tem. The bonds and cash balance due the members of the underwriting syndi- <-ate were delivered in New York on Monday and local subscribers who have asked that their bonds be sent to them in this city will receive their securities later in the week. This final accounting and settlement by the syndicate managers closes up all the affairs of the underwriting syndicate and is the closing transaction. in the big $27,000,000 deal by which nearly all the street railway properties in San Francisco were acquired and the former owners and consolidated the system now known as the United Railways of San Francisco. CHINESE DIE BY LANDSLIDE. Steamer Brings News of Catastrophe at Nanking, i Victoria. B. C., Feb. 5.—The steam er Empress of China brings news of a landslide at Nanking in which 200 Chinese w’ere buried, hundreds of others maimed and scores of river craft sunk. The landslide occurred at the dock while the steame:s Perang. Butterfield and Sures Hulk were dis charging their cargoes. The dead and injured wore n:.-.. t!• spectators News is also brought of the drown ing of 55 workmen L\ the sinking of a launch ir. a sc;:: !I in the Kobe har bor on Jan. 19. FkCy-four m'ne*? w-re burned to death in a tiro that o mi <1 on Jan- 17 In Unis uhu c IPery, Fukuoka Ken. Japan, eau ad by a miner acci dentally ignitin ' a dynamite fuse. As a result of a combat between 100 fishing smacks off the Japanese coast. 45 men are reported killed. LADRONES ATTACK TOWN. Are Repulsed by Constabulary After Brisk Fight. Manila, Feb. 12.—A hundred La- drones atacked the town of Nanjan, Island of Mindanao, yesterday Con stabulary repulsed them after a scat tering fight which lasted several hours, during which one Ladrone was killed and one wounded. Twenty-seven women and children living in the town were injured. PC'. ^ >. I i \4 iji Tj 'ted ! (■ f ii C W* S V 1- 1 i . N _ Wi. L d * M i> <1 .r > v- ^ ^ • i •<- - v? - V V"- y ./4 - ;#v ' /....x • { ' y % ’. •' v ■' . I**' HA tin . tfT.PH :iP<v.n«u \, i..i, : .ih<* ' f vou c?in n »t call, wife f *r free . t/ ., •np'if mi tr‘»nW« Mention onr frivj!- ** th * : . ic’ v 4- :fl/f i Ini s H h .v r . I. 41 Inman Bldg., 8. Broad St.. Atlanta, Ga, Robbery Occurred a Few Miles East of Butte, Mont, the Eastbound Bur lington Express Being the Train Held Up—Booty Obtained Small Butte, Mont., Fob. 12.—The Burling ton express. No. 6, eastbound, was held up shonly after midnight on the Northern Pacific tracks 8 miles east of this city, near Homestead, by two mounted men. They covered the aideis of the train with their guns, uncoupi**! the engine, mail and express cars and ran them ahead of the train about two miles. The operator at High View says that he heard two explosions, and it is be lieved the bandits attempted to blow the safe to pieces. The trainmen of the passenger train, after the rob bers had left with the engine and cars hastened back towards Butte and met an incoming freight train, the engine of which was uncoupled and run to Butte and the alarm given. A sher iff a!nd posse and force of police have left for the scene on a special train The railway officials asked the peni tentiary official at Deer Lodge for their bloodhounds. Sheriff and Posse In Pursuit . Sheriff Quinn and posse when about a mile and a half out of the city, were met by Division Superinten dent Boyle, who was a passenger on the train, held up. Superintendent Boyle rushed to the front of the train when it was stopped by the robbers, but refrained from shooting, fearing he would hit the trainmen. Every officer in the city has been called to South Butte, and all approaches to the city are carefully guarded. The sher iff is scouring the country and a fight between the officers and 1 robbers Is belit ved to be imminent. The robbers fired two charges of dynamite, blowing the safe to pieces and wrecking the express cax. The safe, according to the railway people, contained nothing of value. Word lias been received 1 that a special train left Deer Ixjdgcat 3 a. m. with the penitentiary bloodhounds. The train was a double-header and the engines with the mail and express cars were run about 600 feet ahead of the rest of the train. A few moments after the train was stopped there were two explosions of dynamite, which wrecked the express cars. The roof was blown off, but no one was injured. Amount of Booty Uncertain. Reports as to the amount of booty secured by the robbers vary. The express messenger says that the rob bers did not get more than $500. In other quarters it is said the plunder will amount to several thousand dol lars at least. It is also said that sev eral of the small pouches were rifled. The railway mail clerk, whose name cannot be ascertained at present was shot in the hold-up. It is not thought the wound is dangerous. When the express messenger real ized that there was a hold-up, he tossed a package of money that he held in his hand upon a rack above his head and this money was probably saved. This fact will not be definitely known, however, until an opportunity is given for a search of the wrecked car. Road Offers Big Reward. Helena, Mont., Feb. 12.—The North, ern Pacific Railroad company has of fered a reward of $5,000 for the arrest and oonviction of the men who are said to have held up the Burlington express just east of Butte this morn ing. The company will pay the $5,000 reward for the entire gang, or $1,000 for each member convicted. FIFTY WOMEN JAILED. Charged with .Stealing .Coal From Railroad Sidings at Paterson, N. J. New York, Feb. 12.—'Fifty women have been committed to jail in Pater son, N. J., charged by the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western railroad with stealing coal from cars in the sidings at that place. Five tons of coal were stolen by the women, who carried the coal away in bags on their heads. Seven small boys have been ar raigned In the children’s court on com plaint of one of the yardmasters of the New York Central railroad, who also asserts that the prisoners, with com panions numbering about 50, have, in the last month, stolen 150 tons ot coal from the yards of the company. The boys, the oldest of whom is not 15 years of age, confessed, but they were discharged with a warning, th« yardmaster refusing to make fori charges against them. Pope Receives AmericaM^. . Rome. Fob. 12.—The^T * *U° r ♦tw vnc, n.Jir 7 Pro^ented to the p< UIT o( Chicago; Mies U, ito'-vK 8t L ““ ls; Mrs Prank » i.au£fliii n and her daughters, of Phi ihia, and Miss Holmee, of Philad Dick Law Indorsed. Raleigh, N. C., Feb. 12 —At state convention of the state guan fleers here the Dick bill law war- u Imously In torsed and accepted