Ten years ago in New York, on the top floor of a tenement-house, in a
miserable room without furniture, a dying woman lay on a pallet, in the
last stage of consumption. A charitable lady who visited her asked what
she could do for her. The dying woman replied: "My hours are numbered,
but how can I die in peace when night and day I hear the beating by her
mother-in-law of the unhappy little girl who lives in the room next to
mine." And, in fact, for a month her heart had been torn by the cries of
this child, Mary Ellen, kept in confinement by this brute. Much moved by
this recital, the visitor felt impelled to demand the interference of
the police. They told her this was impracticable unless she was able to
furnish proof of her allegation. She knew the facts only upon hearsay,
and only in case a misdemeanor were actually proved would it be possible
for the police to interfere as she desired. The charitable feelings of
the lady would not permit her to stop here. She made inquiries among
benevolent societies. But here again she experienced a check. The
societies could not receive the child except upon legal commitment by an
order of court. And charitable persons with the most benevolent
tendencies, being consulted on this difficulty, confessed themselves at
a loss to suggest a remedy in the case, and declared that it was
dangerous to interfere between parents and children; that in so doing
one is liable to become involved in inextricable difficulties, since the
heads of the family are the best guardians of their children. However,
the sorrowful appeal of the dying woman echoed continually in the ears
of her whose charitable aid had been implored. She resolved upon a
supreme effort to rescue this child. She sought Mr. Henry Bergh, a man
who has never been deaf to a cry of despair, and who has devoted his
life to the protection of animals. Mr. Bergh considered the life of a
child to be quite as valuable as that of a beast, and gave it as his
opinion that the tribunals should be appealed to. A warrant was