I THREADED my way, through wind and snow,
One winter night, to a tenement row.
The place seemed under the ban and blight
Of a ghastly spell, that stormy night.
Unearthly footsteps seemed to fall
In the dismal darkness down the hall.
Unearthly voices, deep and low,
Seemed to whisper a tale of woe
From reeking angle and rotten stair.
As through the foul and fetid air
I groped along to the broken door
Of a certain room — or, rather, den —
Such as some wealthy, prosperous men
Build, and rent to the homeless poor.
The door was ajar, within all dark;
Never an ember, never a spark
Glowed or glimmered athwart the gloom
That hung, like a pall, in that wretched room.

But I heard the patter of children's feet,
And the sound of voices sad and sweet;
And one — he was only three years old —
Said, " Tissy, ot makes mamma so told:
Pease et me ake her? " the sweet voice plead, —
" I is so hungry; I onts some bed —
Only ze littlest piece ill do,
And Donny ill dive a bite to oo. "
" Hush, Johnny, hush, " the sister said,
" There is not a single crust of bread.
Don't wake poor mamma; she's sick, you know —
So sick and weak that she can not sew.
Don't you remember how she cried,
When she bade me put the work aside?
And how she kissed us when she said,
" The Father in Heaven will give us bread."

" All day long, through the snow and sleet,
I've wandered up and down the street;
And, Johnny, I held my freezing hand
To crowds of ladies, rich and grand,
But they did not hear me, when I said,
" Please give me a penny to buy some bread."
One beautiful lady turned and smiled,
But she only said, " Don't touch me, child. "
In their splendid clothes, they all swept by,
And I was so cold — but I did not cry.
O, Johnny, I never begged before;
But I went to-day from door to door,
Till my very heart grew faint and weak,
And I shivered so I could hardly speak.

But when I remembered that mamma said,
" The Father in Heaven will give us bread,
I quite forgot the shame and the pain,
And went on asking, and asking in vain,
Till I scarce could move my freezing feet.
And when they lighted the lamps in the street,
I came away, through the mud and the mire,
With nothing to eat or to make a fire;
But as I was passing Denny's shop,
Some one called out, " Stop, Katy, stop!"
And out came little Sammy Dole,
And filled my basket with wood and coal.
So now we can have a fire, you see,
And, O! how nice and warm it will be.
And, Johnny, if you'll be still and good,
I'll tell you Little Red Riding Hood. "

" No, no; I is hungy, " the wee one said,
" Tant oo dive me a tumb of bed?
Dest a tumb? I sink oo tould —
And Donny'll go to seep, and be dood. "

" There is not a crumb of bread — don't cry;
Soon in the morning Sissy will try
To get poor mamma a bit of meat,
And some nice, white bread for Johnny to eat. "

By this time the little, cold-blue hands
Had heaped together some half-charred brands
And kindled a fire. Oh! surely the light
Never revealed a sadder sight
Than greeted my eyes that winter night.
Walls damp and broken, a window bare,
A rickety table, a bottomless chair,
A floor disclored by soil and stain;
Snow driving in through a missing pane;
Wee, womanly Katy, scarce nine years old,
Pinched and shrunken with hunger and cold;
Sweet baby Johnny, with dimpled feet,
Sobbing, pleading for something to eat;
A tattered bed, where the eye could trace
A human form, with a thin, white face —
A thin, white face, that had once been fair,
Framed in a tangle of light-brown hair;
The sad eyes closed, the lips apart,
The pale hands crossed on a quiet heart.

Softly Katy approached it now,
And pressed a kiss on the marble brow;
Then, with a smothered cry, she said:
" Johnny, O Johnny! — mamma is dead!
Speak to me, mamma — one word! " she cried;
" Oh, speak to Katy! " No voice replied;
But Johnny crept to the pulseless breast
Where his golden head was wont to rest,
And, nestling close to the icy form,
Said, " I tan teep sweet mamma orm. "
But the mother, outworn with the struggle and strife,
From the madness and toil of the battle of life,
Had silently gone to that beautiful shore
Where the rich man hath need of his gold nevermore.