Weekly Trinity journal., 1873-09-27
ELSIE REEDS ERRAND.

solable regret for her lost husband, YET
not Niobe. A bright-eyed woman, with
firm hold on life, though the world had
been hard on her, and her helpless little
daughter was her sole treasure.
1t was a mystery, even to Elsie her.
self, how she managed to feed, clothe,
and shelter her family of two for, al
though she had been called accomplished
in her youth, she soon found it was one
thing to play "Home, Sweet Home,"
with variations, on the piano-forte, to
dance with grace and elegance, to perpe-
trate green parrots in silk and worsted
to utter glib French phrases in the most
un-French OF accents, and quite another
to turn these accomplishments to remun-
erOtivc account.
She had taught q select schools"
made up of the children of amiable la
dies, who, somehow, became Indifferent
after the first flush of amiabilty was over
and withdrew their contributions, and
forgot the object of their patronage forth
with.
She had received needle work of vari-
Gus kinds as an inestimable boon from
her employers. She had published vol
ume of poems by subscription, which
was exceedingly admired, and poid-the
printer and now her resources seemed
exhausted.
There was a brother living somewhere
in England, the last of the family and n
bachelor, but Elsie had written to him
without receiving an answer and even
advertised for information in the London
papers, in vain.
There came day when she sat in her
poor forlorn room, her rent due, her cup
board bare, herself miserably hungry,
her child barely satisfied with the last
serapings of the larder.
1t never entered her mind to beg. She
had taken even honest employment with
blush, and it seemed to her as if the
end Of all things was coming.
She gathered her childs sunny curls to
her bosom, stroking them tenderly.
Poor Nanette poor little Nanettc
she'll, be hungry again in an hour" Ell
sic SAID to herself, and then there came Il
knock at the door.
The child nestled closer to the fondling
arms. The mother shuddorcd and sighed.
There was no one to expect hut her de-
fraudcd landlord, for she was like stran-
ger in strange land among her neigh
bors, the poorest and humblcst mechan-
les and their families.
She opened her door with a smile,--
was Elsie's way to smilo-and there stood
a lady, exquisitely attircd, fair curls,
child-likc blue eyes; and rather signif-
cant expression Of countenancc.
"Mrs. Reed" said this oppariton
with nod, gliding into the chair that
her hostess assigned her, and sitting pant
ing there, her color coming and going,
her blue eyes flashing.
II might be only fatigue in climbing
the steep stairs. but it looked like agita-
ton to Elsie, and this poor daughter of
Eve forgot her hunger in curiosity, and
aternated between hopes and fears.
Could it be that heaven had sent her
succor by the hands Of this beautiful wo-
man? Perhaps this was visitor like
the good sprite of the fairy legends, who
always arrives just in the mick of time"
never by any chance curtaiing the ex-
tremes Of anxiety and apprehension.
The lady was slow to come to the OBJ
ject of her visit. She bit her neither lip
and looked at Nanette, hesitated n mo-
ment, and all at once recovered her self
possession.
81 would like speak with you alone,"
she said
"Go find your doll, Nanette," said El-
sic.
The child obedicntly went in search OF
that object, and her fingers were soon
busy in the depths of box Of mutilatcd
toys.
:" / have heard of your literary talents, +"
the stranger went on to say, "and am
very anxious to avail myself Of your as
sistance, if may ask it,"
Here she hesitated, coughed behind her
lace handkerchief, and looked askancc at
her visitor.
81 shall be very happy to assist YOU"
answered Elsie, burning with impatience,
and inwardly wondering what her visit
or's orrand might be.
"The fact is" said the other, with a
slightly hysterical laugh, " want q love
letter written very ardent one, to a
gentleman who has pestered me with his
attentions for long time"
Elsie's black eyes opened wide. A
reciprocating love letter seemed to be a
task scarcely requiring a strangers aid.
j knew | should astonish you by the
request, but the fact is / never could
write a letter to suit myself, and | want
it in your best STYLE"
Elsie smiled.
Excuse me-" laltered the strange la
dy, "excuse me for alluding to the sub
jcct, but wish you to accept a suitable re-
muneration," and she glanced involun-
tarily at Elsie's shabby calico and the
mcagerly furnished room, and pulled her
portmonnaie from the recesses Of her dra-
peries, lingering the clasp.
Elsie's heart gave great leap at tho
sight Of the glittcring toy. Remember
she was well-nigh famished, and knew
her child would be shortly.
And and that is not all. Hero is the
gentleman's address,"
She handed Elsie card.