The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-10-11
BRITTA,S STORY.

Sweden, with a small package in her
hand, stood before lady courtesying
and smiling.
1.-THE Swede pastor sends you me. she
said. He say he send me more as some
other girl, cause I clean and lovely for
works-and-and-"
"And what else did he say?'
"And for cause I such gla girl. In
Brendsburg, my home, where lives Mr..
Jansen's fader. the peoples all calls me
'Britta the Glad
"Was this all?"
'No; he say he sends me, for cause I
been speaks such lovely English, like
been here six months; been but only
three, and many Swede say they think
l been horned in 'Merica, such English
I hasr'
"How soon could you come to me,
Britta? said the lady, smiling at the girls
innocence.
81 is coined nowr' cried Britta, hold
ing up the small package, and adding.
Here been my work gown and apron,
and slipper, for walk easy and soft in
lady house"
In twenty-four hours Britta was lat
home in her duties as maid -of-all-work
in the lady's house. The days wore on,
and her smiles never faded before Gin
ders, or dust, or soap suds.
When her first Monday came the
clothes line broke down on the sandy
bricks, and she was heard to remark to
herself, "It been good thing that sand
wash out more as paint!'
Company came unexpectedly one day
when dinner was over. When she was
about getting another meal, Britta re-
marked with q smile, at been good God
give us more as is all eat by selves,
then strange one not 60 hungry"
Such serenity of temper and more
than willing service led the mistress to
remark that the angels were not all in
Heaven.
Britta, as she went from room to room,
saw tokens of little boys presence, bat
no boy. Connecting this fact with the
sable garb and the sad face of her mis-
tress, she said to her one day. in ten
der tone and in respectful manner, II
think you have been give some little boy
to God?"
The lady told her of the loss by death
OF her only son, and of his long sick
ness.
"Ah! hope you been glad for that" "
said Britta, clasping her hands and rails
ing her eyes.
"Gladi" exclaimed her mistress, in
surprise, ''how could be glad?"
II mean hope you been satisfy"
''No, not glad or satisfied, Britta. ]
think, perhaps, you have never had any
trouble, or you could not talk in that
way" said her mistress.
The first shadow she had seen there
now fell over the girls face, and clasp
ing her hands on her heart, she said,
"Ah, been my troubles. I been has
one big one on my heart now, but my
fader up there help me, and keep me all
times glad"
Craving sympathy from even the low.
est rustling heart, the lady drew out this
story of Britta's life:
"Near, close to my home, runs my
river. Ny dear, loving fsder been long
years sick with cripples, that never lets
him walk. He makes little brooms OF
small sticks. for beat eggs and stir
things. Ny moder much sick and not
work hard, but knits all time. cook
and wash and make garden"
"Once every month goes to big town
to sell small broom and knit things
nitten and stocking and shawl. In sum
mer walks on road over lovely green
fields. In winter skates there on my
dear river. I sells all, and brings back
fish and meal, and little tea and sugar,
and white meal for my dears.
"Ah! ahi One day my fader so
looves been die when gets home. My
heart say first it go break. But mem
bers he been say 20 many time, For
what you keep me here, Lord? l wants
20 home up thereP So l gives him to
God and been glad ever after-so glad
God got him safe.
Then 1 must work moro hard. goes
to farmer and works in field all day, and
when night comes go to his house and
scrubs floors till bed times. Then farmer
wife let me 60 homo. ono mile, for sleep
with my moder, and take care for her.
when four o'clock morning come.
make moder some tea, and make good
her bed, and goes OF to farmer and dig
and rake all long day. See how my
fingers bended-never come right, from
hard work.
"In winters, when no work in field.
then spins, spins, spins. After feeds
COWS and milka, farmer wife let me take
WOOL home and spins by my moder. At
night ] goes back and feeds cows and
milks moro fore I goes to bed in my
little house.
"Ah! I 70 glad whom can stay night
With my small dear mother and not
leaves her lone; for she been more sick
since fader 60 from her, and lie much
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