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"The outsiders fell astern, lookin' heartbroke and disapp'inted that we wa'n't hung on the spot, and the fat boss policeman and us two paraded along slow but grand. I felt like the feller that was caught robbin' the poorhouse, and I cal'late Jonadab felt the same, only he was so busy beggin' and pleadin' and explainin' that he couldn't stop to feel anything.
He was sort of familiar looking, and yet there was something distinguished about him, something uncommon, as you might say. But this much comes to me strong: He's a man any woman would be proud to get, and some time he's coming to offer you a good home. You won't have to keep poorhouse all your days." So the widow went up to her room with what you might call a case of delightful horrors.
Mr. I., among other reasons for establishing an Orphan-House, the following: "Sometimes I found children of God tried in mind by the prospect of old age, when they might be unable to work any longer, and therefore were harassed by the fear of having to go into the poorhouse.
I have no objection to your making this visit first. It will be a saving to the town." "Then, sir, we will bid you good-day. Grace, let us go." "Have you carried Frank Fowler to the poorhouse?" asked Tom Pinkerton, eagerly, on his father's return. "No," said the deacon, "he is going to make a visit at Mr. Pomeroy's first."
"When I am ashamed of you, Hephzy," I replied, "I shall be on my way to the insane asylum, not to Europe. You are much more likely to be ashamed of me." "The idea! And you the pride of this town! The only author that ever lived in it unless you call Joshua Snow an author, and he lived in the poorhouse and nobody but himself was proud of HIM." Josh Snow was Bayport's Homer, its only native poet.
In the afternoon we went to a garden-party given by the Princess Louise at Kensington Palace, a gloomy-looking edifice, which might be taken for a hospital or a poorhouse. Of all the festive occasions which I attended, the garden-parties were to me the most formidable.
This is characteristic of Protestant charity: when one is dying of hunger, or forced to beg a crum of bread, she shuts her ears, and points to the prison or poorhouse, as the only proper retreat for whoever is compelled to commit the sin of mendicity; but no sooner does the victim of her own neglect or misdirected benevolence die, no sooner is he out of the reach of all human relief, than the heralds of Protestant charity gather round his tomb, to proffer their assistance, aid, and liberality like the Jews building the tombs of the prophets put to death by their own malice.
He can't be sent to the poorhouse without the knowledge of all the world. He can't be kept out of tradesmen's shops; nor, without terrible scandal, can he be kept away from the paternal properties.
I know which is her favourite picture, and she will be sure to tell him about it." "Send her to the poorhouse!" exclaimed the pastor. "She's been there often with me when I've been there to wind up Gull's clock, which she is sure to get out of order if Gull touches it herself. Elsa is not afraid of any of them, even of the cellar-master. He really likes her."
She could hardly support herself, for few avenues of industry were open to women. She was literally a pauper, and when there is nowhere else to lay his head, even the most miserable pauper thinks twice before he runs away from the poorhouse. Besides, the woman who left her husband had to give up her children. They too were the husband's property.
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