New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1889-01-23

i goods very we'll, l believe Ihave. good
taste, but / can t make them up =
/ thought a little, and then said:
Wouldn't you do well at that
school where you went to learn art
needlework?"
Yes, as well as most Of the schol-
ars, learned to make cat-tails and
Water-lilies, and then something hap
pened to prevent my going and then
the term ended. But supposing
could get enough orders for cat. tails
and Water-lilies, how much a day do
you think | could earn working eight
hoursI know / could not do more
than that?''
"Tm all lost there, 2 7 said, II
haven't an idea. = =.
about two shillings,0 she an
swered flushing. You see, my
friend, I've been over and over it all
in-the night-when / can't Slept
But the poor little thing broke
down there and had to cry awhile. 1t
does do woman so much good to
cry.
81 haveit!" Icried at last triumph
antly. How silly not to think Of it
before. you can teach school, and
get seventy-fye dollars month";" 6
s'But the examination!''
sThe examination" [ said inter-
negatively.
Eyes. | could not pass an exam
nation"
Not pass an examination? Why,
John says you are one of the best in
formed women he has ever met, and
you know we meet a great many.
That's all ridiculous modesty, dear,
| shall begin to scold you soon," /
answered.
But she shook her head sadly.
ssYou and your husband are very
good to think so well of me, and per-
haps | can talk well, but when it
comes to arithmetic, geography, and
all the other studies Pm sure could
not answer a quarter OF their ques-
tions. You know" she said apollo
getically, Ssfor six years I've been
only too glad to forget everything
dull and uninteresting. Clarence
only wanted me to think OF being
happy; and we were so-happy.''
sMy love, you could give lessons
in being happy and there are many
illnatured people who could take
your lessons with profit, but I'm
afraid you could not get scholars.
I'm sure don't know what to .sug-
gest now, but we have not got to set
tie the matter to-day, nor for many
days, for | am going to have a long
visit from you and the girlies before
you go to housekeeping again. John
thinks he knows someone who will
take the house, so when you give it
up, you must come straight to us,
and there will he plenty of time
then to talk this all over, and we are
sure to find something you can do"
1 She kissed me and thanked me as
we'll as she could with her sobbing,
and went away.
| confess / felt puzzled as [ went
home, but was glad thatI had gone
to her. She knew now that loving
friends were interested in her welfare
and would not cease their efforts
until she was placed in an indepen-
dent position. I felt thaGher waking
hours that night would be less ter
rlbly burdened with woe than they
had been before.
| told John all about it when
reached home, aud he said:
II was afraid that you would find
things just in that state, wife. The
sooner she comes here to us the bet
ter. The house can be let in week
and it will not take long to find a
little cot somewhere near us. I'm
much afraid the future troubles will
conquer her.
Indeed you need not be, John,' /
answered almost Indignantly, for
men have so little faith in Woman's
steadfastness. ssSheseemed only anx-
ious to find something that she
could do, I don't believe she dreams
OF shrinking from that thing when it
is found.'
"Not if lis somthing pleasant"
he returned.
'sNot if it is something unpleas-
ant, answered, for was uphold
ing not NeGUle alone, buJ all woman
kind. ''John, men shrink from I'M
pleasant things more than women,
because they haven't such a high
idea of duty"
He did not look convinced, but
wisely kept silent.
"Don' t. you think we might get her
here. next week." [ asked presently
Eyes, as | said before, the sooner
the better. When all is settled / am
sure she won't have a thousand dol
lars left. How Clarence could have
let so many bills run on when he had
such a splendid salary ] cannot i'm
agine'
'sWell, don't blame him now,
john" / said, for / have a foo lishly
soft feeling for the dead. Ihave al
ways felt that the great emancipa-
tor, Death, carries a mirror in which