The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1880-11-06
A SEARCH FOR A SITUATION

Martie Woodbridge-her name was
| Martha, but no one called her So
| lived on the outskirts of small village.
her father was a farmer, but not a
prosperous one. Nature, with it's frosts
and droughts, was always getting the
upper hand of him, and the crops which
he raised were sure to be those which
brought the lowest price in the market.
The cankerworm stripped his apple
trees, and late frost blighted the corn
and oats. He had the misfortune to
buy a cow which introduced the cattle
disease into his farmyard, and Dreamer,
Spotty and Whiteface-the three COWS
that always filed their pals the fullest
and made the most golden butter sick
aned and died.
This was the question which Martie
puzzled over from day to day, coming at
last to the conclusion that she must try
her luck in the big world which she had
seen so little of outside of her own small
village. She would 60 to London. and
if possible, find there situation as gov
erness, in which she could at least pro-
vide for her own support.
Her mother let fall a few quiet tears
over the plan, and smiling patiently
through them said: ASK your father.
Mr.. Woodbridge said No." at first;
but having laid awake all night over his
difficulties, he called Martie to him,
kissed her solemnly, gave weary sigh,
and with it his consent.
So it came to pass That on cool, crisp
October morning, when the woods were
at their brightest autumn flush, and the
frost had stiffened the grass into little
silvery blades and spears, and made the
few pale flowers That fingered by the
roadside hang their heats, Martie put
on her bravest smile, made hopeful, com
forting little speeches, kissed them all
goodbye at home-the dear old home,
SO full of Joys and troubles-and started
for London, to put into that great, hur-
rying, driving, jostling market the
modest wares she had to offer.
Martie was eager and full of hope;
but, alas how much eagerness and hope
fulness go down to death every day in
the frantic rush and scramble for the
good things going. Martic, in the great
city, looking for work to do. seemed
like quiet little wren trying to pick up
worm or crumb where haw ks and
vultures were snatching and clawing
for plumber.
Martie was met the moment she
stepped from the train by an old friend
of the family, who had kindly promised
to receive her at her house, and do what
she could to assist her. The next day,
early in the morning, modest unpre-
tending little advertisement was sent to
one of the daily newspapers. What a
stupendous affair it seemed to Martie,
and how her unsophisticated little heart
beat at the thought of it Nothing could
come of it that day, however; and
while she goes out with Mrs. Allen to
do a little shopping and stare at few of
the city lions, let US take o look at the
quarters she has fallen into.
Mrs. Allen kept small private lodg
ing house, very select and very genteel.
Its inmates were the learned Professor
Bigwig and family, from whose presence
certain literary aroma was supposed
to pervade the atmosphere; the brilliant
Colonel Boreas, hero according to his
own accounted numberless battles
rising young lawyer, with his pretty,
blushing girl wife, all fresh and lovely
in her new bridal toilet; rich widow
and her still richer daughter, who, it
was said, was soon to become the help
mate of the clerical member of the
household, the Rev. Paul Apollos; and
hou h not least, the representative
Of the fine arts, Mr.. Raymond, an artist,