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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, December 15, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-12-15/ed-1/seq-18/

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ELMA'S INHERITANCE
By Frances Lillian Henderson
?
(Copyright, 1916, W. G. Chapman.)
, It was a good deal of a bore to Roy
Weston, when his sister, Mrs. Breda
Throop, invited him to accompany
herself and three lady friends on a
Blumming tour. Not exactly that,
either, for there was a purpose to the
Expedition truly charitable. The four
,were members of a group that had
"done immeasurable good helping the
jpoor and unfortunate. Their pres
ent purpose was to examine condi
.tions in a certain tenement square
that was to be apportioned to them
as their own especial territory for the
winter.
"And I would like to have you
Jbring your camera along, Roy," sug
gested Mrs. Throop.
"What's the idea?"
"We are anxious to get some typi
cal pictures of the way these people
!live," explained his sister, "to show
"in a lecture."
"I see. Very well, although I shall
.scarcely be at my ease tagging four
ladies at one time, I'll follow direc
tions' It was time for these charitably
disposed ladies to get busy, for win
der had come on bitingly sudden.
There were squalid rooms they pene
trated where the temperature was
that of an icehouse, not a fragment
of fire in sight and children huddled
. under ragged bedclothes, shivering
away the hours until mother came
home from her scrubbing with
enough to buy the only meal of the
" day and a bushel of coal.
Weston had never penetrated 'into
ythese realms of misery and suffering
, before, and he looked pretty serious
as he viewed a phase of life with
. which he was unfamiliar. More than
once his hand stole unostentatiously'
to his pocket and be tossed a coin or
a bank note to the occupants of a
cheerless room unnoticed by his es-
corL
"There's only one slide left," he
announced, as they started to leave
a building that had presented un
usually appalling conditions of pov
erty and discomfort
"Oh, here is a subject we must
have!" cried Mrs. Bellew, one of the
party, pushing open a door and
showing an interior fairly typical of
the furthest limit of destitution.,
Weston focussed his camera and
took a view of a corner of the room
Would Devote Hours to Arranging
the Room.
where the sunlight shone strong
across a frost-covered window. With
the click of the shutter the group
started to leave the place, when Mrs.
Throop exclaimed sharply, suddenly:
"Why, there is a man lying on the
floor under that window!"
With a shudder of grewsome awe
the three other ladies huddled for
ward and stared. Weston advanced
and bent over the prostrate figure. It
was that of an old man, miserably at-

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