The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1882-04-26
EssIE's FoKTtNT.

"It'sthat old pain in my side again."
said Essie Hooper, sadly.
She was sitting at the window
where she always sat and sewed-a
little cooped-up spot, with a view Of
tin roofs, factory chimneys and the
neighbors' back yards. Just above a
stack Of brick fues one could catch a
solitary glimpse Of silver clouds float
ing across the ethereal blue-and this
was Essie's sole dream of rest and
gladness.
A pale, violet-eyed girl, with red
brown hair gathered into net, and
fitfulshadows of color upon her cheek,
she seemed scarcely more than a
child in years. Life, however, begins
carly with the poor-and Essie Hoop
er had been earning her own living
ever since she was twelve years old.
"You have been sitting too steadi.
ly, child" said Lucky Deall, her
neighbor. "Here-jump up, and run
around TO the trimming.store for half
a dozen cards of buttons to match
this sample. Mrs. Peck told me to
get them, but | guess you need the
exercise more than I do"
Before Essie could get on her hat,
however, the door opened and Mrs.
Peck herself came in, with a troubled
and pre- occupied look.
"Young women,n said she, in her
hard business-like way of speaking,
81 desire your attention for a few
minutes"
"She's going to cut down our wages
ten per cent" whispered Haddie
Hall.
"she's going to clap on an extra
hour to the days work." murmured
Jane Simpson, apprehensively.
81 regret to say" spoke up Mrs.
Peck, "that business is decreasing,
and times are dull, and l find it ne
cessary to dispense with one of my
hands. Miss Hooper, as the young.
est, is the one upon whose dismissal l
have decided"
Essie had turned very pale.
"Must I go2" she faltered.
~ am very sorry for it, my DEAR"
said Mrs. Peck, who was, upon the
whole, not bad-hearted wotnan;"but
cannot possibly afford to keep on SO
many girls, and one must go, you see.
And its always the custom to send
away theone who has been with you
the shortest period of time"
She counted out the slender sum Of
money which was due tothe girl, and
stood calmly by, while Essie tied on
her hat, took down her shawl, and
mechanically bade the other girls
adieu.
1t was an everyday affair with her
this dismissal Of a superfuons hand,
and she never stopped to think what
might possibly become of the poor
forlorn creature who was thus set
adrift on the world.
She had never troubled herself to
ask any questions of her youngest
apprentice, or she might have learn.
ed that Esther Hooper was quite
alone and friendless in the world, ex.
cept for an old aunt down in the coun.
try.
"0fcourse Unjust go to Aunt Jo,
casta," said Essie, to herself. al have
just money enough to take me to
Butternut Vale, and Aunt Jocasra
can at least advise me, if she can dc
nothing else"
But when she reached the old red
farmhouse on the edge of the pine
thickets, it bad been modernized by
the addition of a fine new verandah
and rustic fences of twisted cedar
wood, and instead Of Aunt Jocasta
and her knitting-work at the window,
she saw the dimpled faces of little
children, Standing on tiploe to peep
over the sill.
\ "Wherc is old Miss Hooper," she
asked Of u young woman who was
trimming sweet pcss nprn home
maze Ieliis,