“A Little Episode.”
A reporter for the Hamilton Spectator, passing by the City Hall on James Street north had the following encounter which he wrote up to be published in the paper the following day, November 08, 1883.
The headline read, " A Little Episode."
“Yesterday morning an
old woman sat on the city hall steps. She was old and gray-haired, and her face
was lined with deep furrows from sorrow, care and age. She was poorly-dressed
in a black stiff gown, worn threadbare and which, in places, gave evidence of
careful darning. A faded woolen shawl hung over her bent shoulders. Her hands
were covered with black thread gloves, cruelly torn in places, and with gaping
fingertips. Tears were streaming from her light blue eyes, and she gazed with a
world of sorrow and love on the photograph of a baby boy she held in her hand.
“ A reporter stood in
the doorway above, and looked down upon her. ‘Poor Willie !,’ she said, in a
half-incoherent voice, broken with sobs. ‘Poor Willie. My child ! My baby !
What have they done with you, Willie ? Oh !, my boy, my boy.!’
“The reporter came
down the steps and stood curiously looking at her. His heart was touched by
this woman’s sorrow. ‘Can I do anything for you?,’ he asked.
“She looked at him
vacantly, then at the photograph. ‘My Willie, my boy !,’ she sobbed again. ‘My
darling, darling boy.” A policeman came
up and stood by the reporter.
“ ‘Do you know her?’
the scribe asked.
“ ‘Yes. That Mrs.--.
She’s been half-crazy ever since her baby died, 40 years or so ago. Don’t say
anything to her. She’ll go home presently.’
“The woman continued
sobbing and muttering over the picture. By and by she rose with a weary sigh,
and put it away in her pocket. The tears continued to fall from her eyes as she
gazed straight ahead of her, seeing nothing, hearing nothing.
“The reporter and the
policeman walked on.
“On.”
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