There is another side to
the picture. There were homes over which Carsons' fire threw a
deep, terrible gloom; the homes of those who would fain work, and no
man gave unto them--the homes of those to whom leisure was a curse.
There, the family music was hungry wails, when week after week
passed by, and there was no work to be had, and consequently no
wages to pay for the bread the children cried aloud for in their
young impatience of suffering. There was no breakfast to lounge
over; their lounge was taken in bed, to try and keep warmth in them
that bitter March weather, and, by being quiet, to deaden the
gnawing wolf within. Many a penny that would have gone little way
enough in oatmeal or potatoes, bought opium to still the hungry
little ones, and make them forget their uneasiness in heavy troubled
sleep. It was mother's mercy. The evil and the good of our nature
came out strongly then. There were desperate fathers; there were
bitter-tongued mothers (O God! what wonder!); there were reckless
children; the very closest bonds of nature were snapt in that time
of trial and distress.
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