as
that of poor Wheelwright! It was a wretched apology for a house, at
best, containing two stories, of two rooms upon a floor each. The upper
apartments were occupied by several poor Irish families. The front room
below had been Wheelwright's workshop, and the family lived in the room
back of it. Both looked as though they had been swept and garnished by
the hand of Famine herself. Not a single article of furniture, of any
description, was left! Crouched over two short brands,--the remains of
a couple of sticks of wood which a poor neighbor had given them the day
before,--were Wheelwright and his wife, shivering with cold. In one
corner of the room lay two or three bushels of chopped straw, in which
they slept. Not a bed, nor a blanket, nor a chair, nor any article or
utensil of furniture whatsoever, had been left; all, all, was in the
hands of the remorseless pawn-brokers, as the sufferers showed me by
their certificates--pawned, too, for such pitiful sums as at once
attested the oppressive and disgraceful system of avarice upon which
those establishments are conducted. The storm yet howled fearfully
without, and the hard particles of indurated snow were sifting through
the interstices of the crazy building. The eye of man has seldom rested
upon such a scene of stern and unmitigated poverty. Shylock or Sir
Giles Overreach--aye!--any body but a pawn-broker--would have melted
into tears at the spectacle. The children, almost naked, had just been
taken to the fire-side of a poor Irish neighbor, to keep their benumbed
bodies from freezing to the heart. I was appalled for the moment, as I
gazed about upon this unexampled picture of destitution. Before me,
seated on his haunches upon the hearth, was poor Wheelwright, resting
his chin upon his hand,--and "the woman"--unfortunately his wife--by
his side. He was moody--broken--crushed!

"Well!" he exclaimed, as I approached the forlorn couple--"you see what
I have come to!"

I saw the state of the case--the cause, and the effect--at a
glance--"THAT WOMAN!"--as he had denominated her with such emphasis in
the morning. In good sooth, I liked her not. She looked hale and
hearty, notwithstanding their destitution--was ragged, and none of the
neatest in her person.

I entered into conversation with her, and soon discovered that she had
both a sharp, and, if necessary, an artful tongue of her own. I
remarked that she appeared to be in good health, and might, I should
have suppos