The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-04-20
PAMELA CRUMP's E>CAPADE.
BY MARY KYLE DALLAS.


meanest man in money matters ever
known. He had driven his boys from
home by his niggardliness; and now
that his wife was dead his daughter
Pamela was all that he had left. She
was handsome strong, we'll made girl,
with good mind, although he had
given her the very poorest education
and no accomplishments whatever. She
worked in his house without help, or
thanks, or reward of any kind; her only
consolation being that she was Miss
Crump.
much good that does me-" she used
to say, as she toiled away to save her
rich father a few more dollars.
Girls who had no grandfathers to
boast about, had accomplishments and
clothes, and comforts and pleasures of all
sorts which she never knew, and which
her father could we'll afford. At last ,on
her nineteenth birthday, after she had
longed in silence for many days. Pam
ella grew bold. Long, fur-lined cloaks
were Just coming into fashion, and how
she wanted one, only girl can know.
It was while her father sat counting
over great roll of bills which he had
Just received as the rent OF certain prop
erty, that she went softly behind him,
and said meekly:
"Pa, can 1 have one of those large,
black silk cloaks, snch as Betsy Bur-
rough's wears-one with fur lining? I'll
make it myself. 1t will wear for years.
Oh, pa, do so want it!' and she paused
with hands unconsciously clasped to-
gether.
Mr.. Crump looked at her horror
stricken.
"A silk cloak, with fur lining" he
repeated, slowly. mo, you can't,
Pamela; it's too expensive, Get your
poor mas gray blanket-shawl and wear
that out. I'm sure she'd be willing"
Poor mas shawl had moths in it two
years before she died." sighed Pamela.
"She couldn't wear it. and you never
knew, pa. you don't know how badly off
am. I've outgrown my sacque, and
look like fool in it. have bows shoes
and hat-oh, dear, such hat can
not really go out anywhere"
Women should be keepers at home, "
said Mr.. Crump.
Certainly ought to go to church, "
said Pemela.
mot to show fine Clothes" said Mr..
Crump.
"But 1 ought to dress like lady,"
sighed the poor girl. II should think
you'd admit that, pa"
Ladies are not always most dressed"
said Mr.. Crump. Far from it. You
are Miss Crump. Remember the
Crumps are the Oldest family in Potts
Vile"
"Oh, know all that, pa" interrupted
Pamela; "but it does no good if must
go about looking like beggar."
Mr.. Crump brought his cane down on
the floor, Numbered out. Hold your
tongue, Pamela" buttoned his pocket
book into his bosom, and trotted away to
deposit the money, while Pamela, scarlet
from brow to chin, remained where he
had left her.
"Oh, what shall do?" she exclaimed,
at last. SIS this womans fate to beg
all the days of her life? I have no edu-
cation. l cannot teach can do moth
ing but homework. I'm the best washer
in the village, but-"Therer' cried Pa
mela, bringing her foot down on the
floor suddenly. There! I've got it. A
girl who can wash and iron as / can
doesn't need to beg for her clothes"
Brushing her tears away, she ran into
the entry, took from a peg her shabby
sacque and hat, put them on, locked up
the house, and hurried down the village
street as fast as her strong young limbs
could carry her, until she stopped at
little white house, at the low window of
which she tapped. A little girl opened
the door, and Pamela followed her into
sitting room, where thin woman sat,
amidst cushions, in big Boston rock
ing chair, with brand new baby across
her knee, two older ones ON the floor
Dear her, and two little boys building
block house on the table, while the
little girl who had opened the door
made the sixth Of the youthful group.
why Miss Pswelaw said the mother,
"How pleased / am to zee you! Excuse
my getting up. 1 amt strong yet 1
was thinking when came in whether or
NO should be able TO darn that place in
the carpet, but / don't feel I shall.
Nurse has gone away, and sister can't
come, because her husband 10 down with
malaria, and I'm avfully unsettled"
You must be-" said Pamela. handling
the baby. why, what little beauty
it il, Mrs. Pease. suppose you've got
. washerwoman this week."
mo, / haven't. It's my worst
trouble" said Mrs. Pease. had Kitty
bring the things, and they are all mended
and sorted out; but black Barbara is en-
gagged mp on the hill, and don't know
what III do"
Hire me-. said Pamela.
'Myr laughed Mrs. Pease. "Whv.