The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1888-10-31
D0RA'S ROMANCE.

reader in publishing house. That may
seem small honor to the uninitiated,
but my work was intellectual and verg
comprehensive.
How l secured my place | need not
relate. 1t was after hard and long
fight for it, which | began ut 8 years.
Til then | had been ward of char
ity, wearing in my baby days the blue
check apron of the Foundlings' Home.
| was educated at the expense Of the
church, and when | first tried my small
strength against tho world it was as
copy holder in great publishing house.
l was able to earn SIS per week-after
seven years. | am little of pessimist,
and my life has not been given over to
melancholy, but to work. | gave ten
hours of each day to my task That alb
sorbed my energy, broke my spirit aud
will and left me tired and depressed.
climbed five flights Of stairs to my work
in the morning, taking my way through
rooms full of human beings struggling
for daily bread against greater odds
than /, and who even envied me.
Five years of this life will render the
hopeful woman strong minded aud Gym.
ical. She will need the unlovely strength
she develops in "A city that harbors and
gives subs stence to 40, 600 bachelors.
rorty thousand strong men, who smoke
aud ca', sleep aud pursue their solitary
lives, spending yearly means enough to
keep up homes. And where every morn
ing 10000 women tramp hurriedly
through our streets, terrible army, each
with her face set toward some store, o lice
or workshop. These women do not seek
health nor streagth nor womanliness-
they must lose these better elements.
They will not win wages enolgh to keep
them through chance sickness nor certain
old age--not one in thousand does
thlt They will not be made better,
mentally or morally, by cease'ess toll.
They VIII only clothe and feed them
sci e., that they may come on the NOR
row and again, till their faces are
| pinched and bloodless and the grace of
youth has left thcm till they are not fit
for wives aud mothers, for they are old
and sad, and each OF the 80, 900 bachelors
wants wife whose temper is sunny and
sweet and who does not know the world
as well rs these workingwomen do.
There was time il my life when !
tried the nun.like life Of a Young
/ Womlns Home, home reared and up
held by good women for those who, like
me, were homeless, and oh ! no soul could
have been more desolatc than mine
within its walls. | ate and drank and
slept and went my daily round, made
more wretched at the sight Of my
struggling sisters who were not so well
equipped for the battle of life as |, and
then ! fed from the home" into the
fNh hoarlfp..
on Michigan avenue, kent by Mrs Nc
Glllicuddy. My home life was at least
independent. Mrs. McGillic d ly's heart
was honest aud kind, her little parlors
were tidy, her table bore wholesome
fare. There was only her daughter,
Josie, who owned the piano, and Jack,
the McGillicuddy son and heir, who
troubled or annoyed me, and from the
son and daughter and piano l could
always retreat to my room. 1t was new
to me to take holiday, but one morning
slept till long after the whistles had
ceased to blow. l could not have
rcache my proof room even at eight, 50
wandered out lazily into the June sun,
over the city and toward the north side.
| reached the bridge at State street and
stepped upon it as it swung TO give
passage 10 a painting little steamboat.
There was olly one person on the br d .e,
gentleman. lie stood quite near me as
we swung slowly out over the river. He
might have been 35 or so. He was
broad shouldered and iolly-lockiug and
little sun Drowned. He looked at me
earnestly, and | noticed that he had
keen, honest, hazel eyes. But, t. nv
amazement, he pronounced my name and
held out his hand.
81 am Wallace Adams, A." he explained: /:
''you were schoolma'e of my sister Ida
at WeStield / met you there. was
sure ! could not be mistaken" D"
That was ten years ago." | STAN
mered feeling my years suddenly rise
up before me.
"lou are not much changed, Miss
Hunter-you are very pale and
thin, but l have always remembered
you"
The bridge swung slowly roand. re-
leasing us, but my new found friend did
not leave me. We walked slowly home,
talking OF those We had known, Of Ida
Adams who was deal, of each other.
and Mr.. Adams told me he had Just
como from Oregon. For the Convention
-perhaps ! shall stay a while after it,"
He left me with permission to call
that evening, and that began new life
for me, lie called, and we talked a
while, and then, to my surprise, Wallace
Adams asked me to marry him.
Women who sit in high places in society
will shudder at my boldne s and want OF
delicacy, at Mr.. Adams's vulgarty, at
the disregard of all orthodox rules of
courtship. But looked back upon tive
lost and unhappy years, forward to a
lifetime of blind cropping after money
that somehow slipped away from the
hands that so hardly won it from the
world. And there was hope and cheer
for me in looking into the mans ha ell
eyes. had neither father, mother, nor
friends, and though had never known
it, home would be so dear to me. I
hesita ed and half promised.
But d not lose caution. / asked
for time, little longer acquaintance. a
little longer at my po t. / was like slave
that has grown TO love the claukng of
his chains. IF in few weeks more l
can feel that am doing right l will be
your wife"
That was our tetrothal, for the half
promise was accepted. Mr. Adams took
my hands in his aud looked at me with
pity in his hazel eyes "God grant you
may, Dora, and good nightp