People's voice. [volume] (Wellington, Sumner County, Kansas) 1890-1917, 1892-12-02

whether you wish to remain with me or
not?"
81 decided that the first day | was
here" replied.
"And you still wish to stay?' she
queried.
Eyes, ma'am," | answered, nothing
could please me better: and if you are
so good as to keep me shall try my
very best to please you and perform my
duties well and faithfully"
81 told you the other day." she said,
that am queer woman; and / sus-
pect you have found me so. Still, you
do not know me now as you will when
you are here longer. Perhaps you had
better take another week to decide?"
mo, ma'am," | answered. Il am
ready to answer now, and delay only
makes me uneasy lest you should turn
me away. Ifyou can give me employ
ment, and are disposed to do so, please
do not hesitate on my account"
Very well," she replied. 'If you
are satisfied, am, so you may consider
the matter settled"
She relapsed into silence, seemingly
having no more to say. | waited some
time, then asked:
Mrs. Lawton, when am | to begin
my duties?"
"What duties?" she asked.
"Why, the duties you have employed
me to perform"
'Ah, now, suppose"
"Will you instruct me how to pro-
ceed?" I questioned. as she paused
again.
why, you know that already" she
replied. "All you have to do is to go
on as you have the past three days, and
enjoy yourself as well as you can"
Am | to have no work?" asked.
NO" she answered. II have moth
ing for you to do"
Then" said l, ~ have no right to
stay. have no claim on your charity,
and, rather than be burden to anyone,
I'd prefer to do any kind of work"
You're not going to be a burden,
Agnes" she replied; land there's no
charity in it. You want home and a
friend, and | want some one to keep me
company and make my life more cheer
full. We can each furnish that which
the other wants, and each of us is will
ing to do so; and that is all there is of
it. A mutual exchange, with balance
in your favor. You give more than you
receive"
No." objected, you cannot deceive
me that way. l give nothing and re-
ceive all"
"You do not know what you give"
she said. "You do not know what your
presence is to me. You remember l
told you had taken strange fancy to
you? will tell you now why:
81 once had a daughter about your
age. My husband died when she was
small, and from that time she was my
only companion and friend. My family
disowned me when | married, and
treated me with such GOODNESS that l
never sought reconciliation. So for
years my child and | lived alone and
apart from the world, and we came to
be very near and dear to each other.
All my love and thought was conferred
in her and all my life was devoted to
her.
"But death, cruel and unfeeling,
came between us and took her from me.
Then / was alone, bereft of my only
treasure and my heart left vacant.
had no tie on earth from that day
nothing to love and nothing to live for.
My life was blank and purposeless, and
as consequence the years have
dragged YEARLY around with a monot-
onous and unvarying sadness. My life
has been desolate and dreary and l
have found no pleasure in it.
when | saw you the first time l
thought Immediately of my daughter,
and from some cause | felt that you
might fill her place in my heart. Not
as she filled it, Of course, for no one
could do that, but in a great measure.
You reminded me Of her, though you
DO not resemble what she was, in the
least and liked you. I like you yet.