Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-04-11
TNrRnnnCroRY

sion when I was quite small, and when l was worse discouraged than usual, asked my father if he didn't wish I was Q kitten, and when he asked why thought he should wish that, said: 'Because then you could drown me like 1 they do kittens and get me out of the way" l really felt then that it would surely be great relief to my people if should die, or get drowned, or break my neck; and frequently l wished, in all carnestness, that some such circum- stance would happen to me.
 never was favorite with anybody, and I never could make friends. Why such was the fact was never able to understand. I'm surc I tried to please everyone with whom I came in contact, and I cXertcd myself to the utmost to gain their good will. l was docile, kind and obliging to fault, and more self sacrificing creature l am certain never lived. made it the great study of my whole youth to devise ways and means for pleasing others. and 1 would at any time gladly inconvenience myself if by so doing I could serve the interest of some one else.
 Yet, with all my sclf-sacriiicc and all my willingness to favor others. remained friendless and unlovcd The favors l rendered people were accepted as a matter of course, and verify be lieve that if had given mp my head to save the life of any one of the people l knew, would not even as much as have been thanked for my pains. Those who would have known of the sacrifice might, perhaps, have thought I had done very well, but I'm sure the act would have created no serious comment. In my efforts to please, to make friends and to win words of praise failed com pletely, and in spite of all could do was made to feel more and more pain fully as the years went by my utter uselessness in the world.
 If my mother had lived it would all have been different. I should have had one friend, at least, and what a comfort that would have been in my loneliness and isolation! What world of happi- ness l should have found in a mothers love! Then, perhaps, she might have caused others to love mo. I used to think of that when I was unrommonly depressed and sad and many long night hours lay awake in my dark garrct loft weeping for the loss of one had never known-my mother.
 loved my father Tn spite of his neg lect of me, and I tried in every way to make him understand my feelings, hop ing to win some expression of love from him. When l was just a little tot l watched for him when he came home at evening, and often, when could muster up sufficient courage, stole up to him and kissed him, then shrank away feeling that I had committed grave otfenSc. do not t''nl1 my father was pleased awith such attentions from me, for while he never openly resented it, his face would take on frown, and he would shrug his shoulders in such a., way as to make me feel that he would rather have me stay away from him.
 My father had married again soon after my mothers death. and he had a second daughter two years younger than l. My sister was n very pretty child, at least every one said she was, and my father was exceedingly fond of her. Sometimes, sitting unnoticed in Il corner of the room, l watched him as he fondlcd and careSsed her, playing with her curls or gently tweaking her ears, and l wondered then what l could do to win such attentions to myself. Once or twice l left my corner and, stealing forth, attempted to seat myself on my fathers other knee in the hope of sharing his attentions with my sister, but he pushed mo away from him, and l slunll back to my seat with deeply wounded heart, feeling tinge of ieal- ousy of the favored child
 l don't think my father conld have ever felt much love for my mother. Such, at least, was the impression gained us l grew up never heard him speak of her. and if nnyomr n!Hn- tioncd her nam" in his presence it seemed to diS,luirt him. 1t appeared to me that any remembrance of her was extremely unpleasant to him. though why it should he was unable tu com prehend, for I'm sure she was most excellent woman and loving wife. Such was the impression gained of her from our old colored cook, Aunt Mary, who had known her from childhood up to the day of her death.
 "Dar neber libed better oman an what yo' ma was," Aunt Mary said to me time and again, "an' der nebe will lib better oman if de worl' stan's a millyun yahs. She was de llindes' hearted an de best-natured creatur eber I knowcd, an if eber der was Chris tian pusson on dis yearth she was dat pusson."
 As grew up tried to discover from Aunt Mary some information regarding my mothers married life, but on that point she was singularly reticent. She was ready at all times to sing the praises of "Misses Marg'et," but not a word had she to say regarding her mar riage to my father md the short life they lived together. Once when I per severingly pressed her for an answer to the question, whether or not my mother was happy wife, she said:
 "'Tain't de place ob Q ole no count niggah like me to be tellin' tales an inixin' my gab long O odder folks business. Yo' muddeH's dona dead an