The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-07-06

INK did her own work. There
was little line between
her eyes, which deepened
as she shipped with the sharp scis-
sors. Presently the work slipped
from her hands to the floor. II could
cry, if it would do me the least good"
she said, having acquired habit Of
talking to herself. 81 want a new
dress, and / want to hire it made. In
fourteen years l have hired only
two"
She did cry now without regard to
the good it might do. She was not
weak, nervous woman. On the con-
trary, she was energetic and strong.
Keeping her seven-room fiat in good
order, doing all the sewing for her.
self and Edna, her oldest child,
girl of twelve, and considerable for
Fred, a lively boy of nine; even un-
dertaking coat for him sometimes
when one of her husbands would do
to make over.
Mr.. Benton was shipping clerk in
a wholesale grocery, and had been
gradually advanced from fifty dollars
to one hundred dollars a month. But
the family needs had advanced more
rapidly than the salary. Fred had
shown an unusual talent for drawing
from the time he was baby, which
it would be absolutely wicked not to
develop. Edna had fairly good
musical capability and took vocal
culture. Mrs. Benton could give her
piano lessons for time, and to pay for
the piano she had taught little girl
in the lower fat; but she was not
skillful enough to attempt teaching
music professionally.
Before her marriage she had been
cashier in the house where her hus-
band was now employed, and was
very good accountant. She often
laughingly said her experience was
useful now. Today she did not
laugh; neither did she cry long.
The scissors resumed their snip
ping, and the work of destruction,
which precedes new dress evolving
from an old one, went rapidly on.
The door bell rang. She pulled off
her large bingham apron and rubbed
the dust from her hands with an i'm
patient air. Callers and ripping
could not combine, and she needed
the dress.
1t was only the postman. She
hurried back to her work, opening the
letter as she went.
"DEAR Cousin KATE: / have been
thinking of you often lately. My
visit to you year ago is often in
mind. | suppose you are now, as you
were then, busy ripping, turning,
frightening, getting ready for win
ter. | did not say anything then,
but it does seem to me, Kate, wo-
man of your capabilities might be
something besides household
drudge. You do not allow yourself
the luxury of washerwoman. Those
are your own words. | used to ex-
pect great things of you, and 1 hate
to be disappointed Brother
Fred writes me that his cashier leaves
him the first of December, and he
wishes me to come and take the
place, but l have other arrangements
for the winter. Why can you not
take it? He will pay fifteen dollars
a week; you go at eight and leave at
five. Consider it. Your affectionate
cousin, JULIE"
Mrs. Benton had been standing
while she read the letter, now she sat
down suddenly. She could no longer
keep back the thought, she had been
wanting to do this very thing. Hire
woman to do the work, be free to
come and go, and earn money as she
had done in her girlhood. Her head
whirled. She could not work 1t
seemed almost like wronging her hus-
band to be so glad OF chance to earn
independent wages. Her husband
What would he say to the schemel
He worked hard and brought home
his salary every week in an envelope
just as it was handed to him, and
threw it into her lap with some gay
remark He did all he could. Did
she expect morel She wanted more,
at any rate.