Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 December 1896 — GRADERS AND THEIR HOME. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

GRADERS AND THEIR HOME.

Poor Families Whose Only Shelter I* an Ordinary Tent. At St. Louis, Mo., there are several regiments of poor people dwelling In tents, and already the first eases of •uttering and wretchedness have been recorded. These people are "graders"’ and their families. The graders are the men who perform the labor of leveling the elevations, precursory to the erection of buildings, in the unimproved and hilly parts of the city. As a rule, they are not inured to the hardship of living in tents. Sometimes they spend successive winters living in, houses. Then, again, a cold season strikes them, when from an economical demand they are compelled to seek the refuge of

tents. Their number can only be guessed. Five thousand Is a low estimate. And there are many children. A visit was made to the lots on Euclid avenue, near "Westminster. A dozen tents, huddled together, composed this little liamlet. There was no shelter of trees or homes to the miniature plateau they stood upon. A high growth of dark weeds that emitted a sickly odor of decaying vegetation surrounded the tents. A ramshackle shed for horses stood in their midst. All around was scattered the debris from the table. There was no drainage—no convenient rill or sewer to wash away refuse. Tin cans, ashes, relegated utensils, and cast-off wearing apparel—little of that —were strewn around. To the southwest of this scene the tall, stately mansions of the boulevard formed a background for this homely, but not homelike, picture—a constant saddening in its enormity. A noise of a wailing infant attracted atention to a tent a little apart from the others. The five O’Donnell children were the lone tenants. The eldest is a girl of 7. A ba.by in the cradle was crying as though heart-broken. A little chap about 5 years old was rocking it, trying to calm his little sister. The father was working on the sewer construction". The mother was out doing a day’s washing. Before the newspaper men left the camp, Mrs. O’Donnell returned. She apologized for the dirt in her tent, and for the untidy condition of her eliildrev, who were unwashed and barefooted. She was not afraid to trust them with a fire—oh, no! They had all been burned and had learned to fear it. Surely, experience was a dear teacher here. This family was prosperous, comparatively. A few feet away lives Mrs. Salisbury and her three children. Her son, a boy of six, was sick in bed, anil had no medical attendance. His tent was a dilapidated affair that would be at the mercy of an ordinary wind storm were it not for the protection afforded by a high growth of. vile-smelling weeds. Her husband had been sick and out of work, and they were living from hand

to mouth. All their clothing was of thin texture, and they had no bed clothing. They slept as many as possible huddled together in one bed, for the sake of warmth, and to get under the only spot in the tent where the rains did not soak through. Only at meal times—when they could afford a mealdo they bum a fire in their stove. Mrs. Salisbury had received no help from any one. Often they had gone to bed supperless. She would not ask her neighbors for help—they were in the same boat of penury. She was ignorant of the method of-seciying outside aid. While at present there are not many of these people in dire distress, it is but a question of the advent of the severe cold weather when their appeals for aid will be universal.

CLOSED FOR THE NIGHT.

DURING A RAIN.