Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1862-01-29
CHAPTER I.
TCoNTINUFD,1


said, the Future was stern and inexorabe.
She rose up and would have speech with
me. Long enough, she said, had | forgot
zen the cares of this world. How much had
I left now in that purse which had never
been the purse of Fortunatus-how much
between me and starvation? This last
word goaded me into listening. l took out
my purse, and counted its contents When
the expenses attending my mothers funeral
had been paid should have but twelve dol
lars in the world, and, at the end of the
week, half that would have been due my
landlady. What should do? l was slow |
at my needle, and, save in fancy work, little
accustomed to use it. l had already tried |
the experiment Of embroidery. and | knew |
! could not depend on it, l might teach |
young children, but then l had no means of |
obtaining such a situation, and my neces- |
sites were immediate. | took up an even
ing paper and ran over the column of wants. |
l could see only one opening at all adapted |
to my needs. 4 well-known fancy goods |
dealer advertised for a saleswoman-the |
salary, at first, to be five dollars week.
Of course this occupation would be most
unsuited to my previous habits of life, and
uncongenial to my taste, but | could not af-
ford 10 be too particular. Any thing was
better than the horrors of destitution. On
the sum thus offered l could liUe. had
clothes enough to last me some time AT my
fathers death both my mother and mysel
had been supplied with mourning garments,
not only plentiful, but even rich and hand
some-we deemed this but a suitable re-
spect to his memory. In this regard, there
fore, l was provided for. The situation as
saleswoman seemed, if could obtain it, to
promise well. l believe | scarcely thought
of the improbability that | should succeed
in my application, with no experience
and no references. | satisfied myself
with the resolve to make theattempt
on the coming morning, and then l
shut out of my thoughts all future worldly
troubles, and abandoned myself to present
reality of my loss.
Oh, with what homesick longing my heart
cried out for the mother whom had so
loved. God grant that few who read these
pages may be able to realize the intensity
of my despairl l was alone in all the
world. Not one human being lived to whom
my life was precious, or my death could
bring sorrow. | forgot the glory of the
heavenly morning, the angels and the new
song. | only remembered that over my
last friend blew the unquiet winds and fell
the lonesome rain of this wild October night,
and neither God nor man said any peace,
bC stilll' to the tempest Of my grief
Balmy and bright, after that night of
storm, rose the October sun. 1t shone as
gladly as if there had been no trouble in all
the world. 1t will shine so on your grave
and mine; for nature has for her lost chill
dren no Rachel voice of lamentation. The
brave, joyful morning seemed mockery to
my grief. dressed myself carefully in my
deep mourning garments, and strove to look
as well as l could, for the impression l
Oh 10 ma II hal 4
The aspect which confronted me, as tied
on my bonnet before the mirror, was neither
plain nor actually handsome. Dark and
abundant hair was brushed away from
pale face, youthful in outline, but worn
not little with grief and watching. The
eyes were like my fathers large and dark,
brown rather than black-the features were
regular, and the mouth, my mother used to
say, both proud and loving. My figure was
tall; slender, without being thin. l had
not much vanity, but year ago | cherished
dearly whatever charms l might chance to
possess for my father sake who, like all
persons Of a pOetical organization, placed
high value on lovelness of person. re-
membered this as stood there, and thought,
with an added sense of desolation, that no
one cared for my looks now-I had no one
left for whose sake / need try to be pretty.
y
l walked rapidly through the streets which
led TO Broadway, a hope or a wish stirred
in my heart which was perhaps akin to
desperation-a longing to live in this world,
only to lee: no matter what troubles were
in store for me; to live till | should be
old--to meet all that has been written for
me in the book Of Fate. 1t seemed to me
that l could accept joy or pain with equal
fortitude, as only the accidents incidents to
being laying them up as memories at
which, in the long Hereafter, could look
back and smile.
BY the time had reached my destina-
ton, however, little of my courage had
departed me. | went into the store and
asked for Mr.. Emerson. / was shown at
once into a small counting room, and gen.
tleman rose TO meet me with an air of po-
lite attention. With a rapid glance |
searched his face. His expression was kind,
and his countenance by no means destitute
Of refinement. In his eyes look of habit
ual friendliness and real warmth of heart
disputed the territory with the sagacous
twinkle Of the shrewd man Of business.
Now that l had reached the Rubicon | felt
strange hesitation about crossing it.
"hlr Emerson, believer" l said half
Galtering.
"Ihe same, Miss"
"Hamilton,' | replied, answering his in
quiry. ii have called, sir, in reference to
your advertisement for a saleswomau."
"For whom do you wish the situation 2"
"FOr myself"
thousand exclamation points and notes
of interrogation twinkled in his eyes. |
suppose neither my attire nor my manner
had prepared him for such disclosure. lie
looked at me moment; then he said, very
POLITELY,
'For yourself? Have you ever served in
such copacityW
"NeVer sir"
"IIaYe you any references 2'
'No sir none"
seemed to see dismissal lowering upoI
his lips waiting for utterance. My las
hope for food and shelter were slipping
away from me. | grew desperate. Befor
he had time to speak interrupted him. II
quiet, restrained tones, in a few simpl
words ! told him all my story. did no
dwell upon my grief; perhaps for that very
reason lie understood and sympathized witt
it the more. God bless his noble heart Hi
did not doubt for moment the truth Of my
narration. When remember all his kind
ness, / rejoice that human nature, ever
when scared by the cares and disappoint