If I could set some of the forlorn souls in my parish beside the happier creatures who weep over imaginary woes as they are painted by his eloquent lips , that brilliant scene would be better than any sermon . Day and night I look down on lives as full of sin , self-sacrifice and suffering as any in those famous books . Day and night I try to comfort the poor by my cheery voice , and to make their wants known by proclaiming them with all my might . But people seem to be so intent on business , pleasure or home duties that they have no time to hear and answer my appeal . There 's a deal of charity in this good city , and when the people do wake up they work with a will ; but I ca n't help thinking that if some of the money lavished on luxuries was spent on necessaries for the poor , there would be fewer tragedies like that which ended yesterday . It 's a short story , easy to tell , though long and hard to live ; listen to it . `` Down yonder in the garret of one of the squalid houses at the foot of my tower , a little girl has lived for a year , fighting silently and single-handed a good fight against poverty and sin . I saw her when she first came , a hopeful , cheerful , brave-hearted little soul , alone , yet not afraid . She used to sit all day sewing at her window , and her lamp burnt far into the night , for she was very poor , and all she earned would barely give her food and shelter . I watched her feed the doves , who seemed to be her only friends ; she never forgot them , and daily gave them the few crumbs that fell from her meagre table . But there was no kind hand to feed and foster the little human dove , and so she starved . `` For a while she worked bravely , but the poor three dollars a week would not clothe and feed and warm her , though the things her busy fingers made sold for enough to keep her comfortably if she had received it . I saw the pretty color fade from her cheeks ; her eyes grew hollow , her voice lost its cheery ring , her step its elasticity , and her face began to wear the haggard , anxious look that made its youth doubly pathetic . Her poor little gowns grew shabby , her shawl so thin she shivered when the pitiless wind smote her , and her feet were almost bare . Rain and snow beat on the patient little figure going to and fro , each morning with hope and courage faintly shining , each evening with the shadow of despair gathering darker round her . It was a hard time for all , desperately hard for her , and in her poverty , sin and pleasure tempted her . She resisted , but as another bitter winter came she feared that in her misery she might yield , for body and soul were weakened now by the long struggle . She knew not where to turn for help ; there seemed to be no place for her at any safe and happy fireside ; life 's hard aspect daunted her , and she turned to death , saying confidingly , ` Take me while I 'm innocent and not afraid to go . ' `` I saw it all ! I saw how she sold everything that would bring money and paid her little debts to the utmost penny ; how she set her poor room in order for the last time ; how she tenderly bade the doves good-by , and lay down on her bed to die .
At nine o'clock last XXXXX as my bell rang over the city , I tried to tell what was going on in the garret where the light was dying out so fast .
Day daily evening fro garret morning night week woes year