The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1869-05-21
Mistellauepns.
B RAINS.

"Yes'mp rrIIf f...r
turned with start. Twas quite alone
rs thought, and the fine treble of thai
odd little voice struck strangely upon my
ear. i had been saying that was tired
Of life, or some such rcplning speech
which never allowed myself except III
solitude, and this object ut my knee an
swered me, "Yes'mw l looked ut her
In amazcment. She was little morsel,
scarcely so tall rs well grown child OF
seven, but with q grave, mature, prefer
naturally wise face, which might have
belonged to any age from fifteen to TWEEN
ty-fye. Was she goblin or mortal?
"Who are your asked.
my name Is Susan Mory, ma'am,
but they mostly call me Brains They
say I've an old head on young shoulders"
And she laughed, small, fine, queer
laugh, rs uneanny In sound M her voice.
I was hardly yet convinced that she was
human.
"How old are your e.
"Twelve, ma'am, last birthday"
"And what doyO want, Brainsp How
came you hereY" D.,
~ want to do your errands, ma'am. i
heard you needed some one; and your
door wasn't quite shut, so came In. Ex.
cuse the freedom" And here she bObbed
me droll courtesy, quite In keeping with
her voice, and her laugh, and the quaint
correctness and propriety Of her converse.
ton. 1t was true wanted an errand
girl; but what could this odd morscl OF
humanity do? ' ''i'' q '''- d. q.
"What wages did you expectT' I asked,
more from curiosity to see what cstima-
tion she put upon her services, than with
any serious intention Of employing her.
- heard you had been paying three
dollars q week, and the girl boarded her
self. think could earn as much.
But she was large girl" said, In
surprise. "She swept and busted my
room, carried home all my work, and
shOpped for Innings and trimmings"
"Yes'm." She spoke with an acquics-
cent air, as if she thought the work had
mentioned was not mt all too much for
her. She seemed so ready and CHEEKY
that couldn't bear to refuse her.
"Can You sweepY' I asked. ..-.rr.
"If you'll try me, ma'am, think my
work will please you. II not, you know
It's only to send me away again" "a .ol.
These was no roomt to dispute her asser-
ton. began to like the quaint, neat little
creature, with her earnest, unchildlsh
face. l would question her little more,
l thought. ''. '.". '.' OFT
"Havc you a homer ! asked. ia
"Wlth my mother. There are three OF
and l, and Body mean my
sister Jane; she grew SO fast, and was 50
careless, and thoughtlcss, that father nj
,,aaI 40 ,au ha. nnIy anI ,,,o
Brains. When the war broke out he went
for a private soldier. but he was shot the
second summer. We have eight dollars
a month, you know,-mOther's pension
but that wont quite make us comfortable,
and mothers delicate; and so l thought
II could do your errands. ma'ain."
SO she, too, had lost by the war-she In
one way and l In another. The thought
made my heart warm to her yet more.
"You may come tomorrow morning.
I said. "COme at hslf-past six, and ask
the porter for the key OF No. 10. You
will find broom In that closet behind the
door, and you get the room swept and
busted before the girls come to work."
"Yes'm."
Another droll little courtesy, and she
was gone. .......
Then / went back to my thoughts again.
They were u little less melancholy and
self-cOmpassionate. however. for the dl-
version. Yet had lost so much. Before
the war began my father had been one OF
the wealthlest merchants In New York.
He did a large wholesale business, mostly
with the South, and when the crisis came
Il ruined him utterly. In the summer OF
1861 we went to little place In the couii-
try which belonged to my mother, and
there he died. think It was his trouble
which brought on the long, slow fever,
from which he never rallied. Then IN
that fall after his death, had to decide
upon INV future. Wehad scarcely hun
drcd dollars In the world besides the little
place which sheltered us. but which In
sured us only roof over our heads. My
mother was delicate woman, accustomed
ever since her marriage to bc petted and
waited OH and tended. She was utterly
broken down by her grief mt the loss OF
my father. | must think for both and
work for both.
!. too, had been accustomed To luxury.
and never trained to anything useful. ]
had received a tlnc-lady sort of education.
| could play and sing-with taste rather
than with science. dancedwell; drew
q little; read French; I could manage
Italian cnongh for song; but what one
did know well enough to teach itY Not
one. And even II | had, there were fifty
applicants for every vacant situation IN
the department of instruction. Clearly
must do something besides teaching.
could not sew fast enough to earn much
that way. What was l good for? My
self-esteem went rapidly down to zero,
when suddenly new idea took possession
of me. had one endowment which
might make available rs capital-taste in
dress. use the words In their highest
sense. net only knew what was pretty
when saw it-l knew what would be
pretty before ! saw Il. I had original
ideas. In the days when I had been n
leader OF fashion In my own set, my
dresses and my trimmings had never been
seryile limitations of French models. lha,l
always invented something for myself, OF.
ten for my friends. Schneider had said
that my taste would DC u fortune to any
II should be fortune,
then, to me.
/ natured my plan and then cOmmuni'
CattN " W NY inOtuCi. Hs hou iV'SSNN''
Il vexed her sOrely ut first. But when
set matters before her In their true light,
and she saw Il afforded our only chance
of comfort and independence. she began
to look on the idea more fiiyOrably. She
made only one st'pulation-that l should
not attempt to carry out my undertaking
In New York. To this was quite ready
to accede. The supercilious patronage OF
all my former friends would have been
n burden quite too heavy 10 be borne. i
should feel comfortable, even II made
less money, to begin elsewhere. My
scheme was quite nm ambitious one. lg-
nored the proverbs about small begin
nings, little acorns, and so on. meant
to storm success at the onset. let the
house which we were occupying, for a
year, and arranged to leave my mother
with the new tenants until was ready TO
come for her; then went To Boston.
found vacant rooms on Summer street,
In which nearly all the upstairs apart
ments were used by millincrs and dress
makers. had no references, but I en-
gagged to pay rent monthly In advance
aud having paid the first month, ar.
ranged my rooms. and put my sign
" Miss MACGREGoR"-0n my door. and
down stairs Mt the lower entrance. had
hired n dress maker 10 90 on with me