The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-08-13
Selected Storp.
Working for a Living.
What are we going to do?n

Irene Ellis, Tall, stately brunette,
glanced up in unfeigned distress.
"God will help u.s." she answered,
solemnly.
Florence continued:
CT am at loss. How are we two girls
to get along in the battle with poverty
we who have never known such dread
full thing before and have never en-
countered life's hardships. Now we
are thrown upon our own resources,
and mammals health in so wretched a
state. Poor mammap'
Florence, | wish you had accepted
Captain Winslowel"
" Don'tl"
Florence turned away, her pale face
even paler.
"Capiain Winslowe did not love me,
Irene. He only sought me for the
wealth which was then ours. l have
been told of his love for-for another.
And" she added, bitterly, "he has
held himself aloof since fathers fail
ure in business; and even when poor
father died he never came near us.
Don't talk of him; he is a heartless,
mercenary man."
Irene's eyes searched the pretty,
dropping face before her seriously.
Florence, don't believe you really
have so poor an opinion of Captain
Winslowe in your heart as you give
utterance to. You are deceiving your
self. Who gave you all this informa-
ton concerning him?" she added,
abruptly.
Mr.. Terrill."
81 don't like that man, Florence
/ believe he is scheming for some selfish
end. He has loved you for months,
and | am firmly persuaded that he
would stoop to any mean and dishonor-
able act to gain your love; even to the
slandering of a good manW
Florence started. "What do you
mean?" she asked, hastily.
Nothing; l have no more to say
now. But answer me one question,
Florrie-honestly and candidly-do you
care for Mr.. Terrill?"
"No!" The reply was short and de-
cisive. "No, do not"
Irene looked thoughtful.
"And you do care for Winslowe?"
she affirmed. 81 believe that, Flor
ence, though you must not think that l
am forcing your confidence"
Florence remained silent, but Irene
had heard an old saying that " silence
gives CONSENT" and drew her own de-
auctions.
Here" cried Florence, suddenly
(perhaps she desired to change the sub
jecD, "here we are, discussing two
nonentities, when we have real bust
ness in hand. Irene, you and l have
most difficult-perhaps impossible
task before us. We must contrive in
some way to make money-to furnish
the means of support to mamma, and
not let her suspect the source of our
revenue. 1t would hurt her feelings to
think that her girls were working for a
living. Poor manufactured as she
has been it is not in our power to
prove to her the true dignity of labor.
She thinks that every woman who
works with her hands is irretrievably
disgraced. Irene, / wonder which is
the greater degradation, honest, though
manual labor, or to marry some man
merely for home and the fine things
which his wealth can supply?"
Irene shrugged her shoulders.
In mammals estimation" she said,
there could be no greater or more
lasting downfall and disgrace to her
two daughters than to be compelled to
work. But for my part, glory in the
strength and independence which God
has given me. Do you know what 1
have decided to do?"
"Nol What is it?"
The question was asked breathlessly.
Irene smiled.
am going to work in a printing
office. You know | once learned to set
type-just for fun-and now / can turn
my accomplishment to real profit. Mr..
Merton, the publisher on Main street,
has offered me situation. / am quick,
and a tolerable workman already:
practice makes perfect you know;
and | am confident that in time l shall
become good compositor."
But" began Florence, obviously,
"what is to be my share in the pro-
gramme?"
"Oh, you must stay at home with
mamma. You like to cook and do
housework, and, with little assistance
from an experienced woman, you can
soon perfect yourself in that business,
and so, altogether, we can contrive to
make mamma very comfortable"
Florence made no reply, but into her
busy brain strange idea darted,
lodged there and took root.
Under the directions of an expert
enced and practical cook Florence
soon learned to make the most delicious
cakes; and the odd plan which had
originated in her brain was to dispose
of this commodity-to sell enough
every day to add to their slender in
come.
n
1t was rainy, disagreeable evening,
and Captain Winslowe left his office
with weary step. He was a success
full lawyer, and had been occupied all
day with an important lawsuit which
baffled and tormented him.
Springing into street car to ride
home-glad to be free from the tor
ments and vexations of the day-hs
thoughts were full of the woman he so
dearly loved; for Captain Winslowe
was an honorable man, and he had
given his whole heart to Florence Ellis.
What had been his Indignation and