The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-01-09
VT was certain that Elsie had very
hard and lonesome life of it.
When Miss Amanda had selected
= her from among the girls at THE

she is tender-hearted little thlng
and kind word goes great way with
Elsie"
Miss Amanda looked at the matron
as if she were speaking Greek, and
said. nothing. 1t was quite plain that
few words, either kind or unkind,
would pass Miss Amanda's lips. But
THE Home" was more than full. and
Miss Amanda Armstrong was a per-
, son we'll known as the leading dress
maker in the city, person Of some
money; not obliged to work now II
she didn't wish to. IF cold, she is at
least perfectly just" they all said.
SO Elsie went to work for Miss
Amanda and lived in the kitchen. She
waited on the door. washed the dishes,
cleaned the vegetables and set the ia
BILE (Miss Amanda lived alone, and she
ate in the kitchen). Every Friday
she swept the house. Her bed was
in a little room in the back attic.
When she came, Miss Amanda hand
ed her dress and skirt and pair Of
shoes. Those are to last six months
she said, land see you keep yourself
clean.'
She gave her also one change Of
stockings and underclothes.
Here IS your room; you do not
need light to go to bed by, and it is
not healthy to sleep under too many
covers"
1t wasn't so much what Miss Aman-
da did to her, for she never struck
her or In any way ill-treated her; nor
was it so much what she said, for she
said almost nothing. But she said it
all in commands, and the loving little
Elsie was just driven into herself.
She had had a sweet mother, full
of love and tenderness, and Elsie
would say to herself, II must not for
get the things mama told me--Love
can never die and kind words can
never die" But she had no one to
love, and she never heard any kind
words. So she was bit worried. II
shall forget how kind words sound
and 1 shall forget how to love-" sighed
the little girl.
She used to long for a doll or cat
or something she could call her own
and talk to. She asked Miss Amanda
who said no" She added, II have
no money to give for such foolishness
as a doll, and a cat would eat it's
Miss Amanda had been blessed with
no little girl-time. When she was
young she always was forced to work
hard, and she thought it was no worse
for Elsie than it had been for herself.
| don't suppose it was; but one look
ing in on these two could not but feel
sorry for both Of them.
Elsie would try to talk to herself a
little at night, but it was hard work.
Then she would lift up her knee, and
put the sheet about it for q hood, and
name it Nancy Pullman, and would try
to love that; but it almost broke her
back when she tried to hug Nancy.
ooh, if I had something to speak a
kind word to-" she said.
One day, never-fOrgotten day, she
went down cellar to the bin of po-
tatoes, to get some for dinner. She
was sorting them over. to select all
of one size, when she took up quite
long one, and 10! it had little face
on it; and two eyes, and a little hump
between for nose, and a long crack
below that made very pretty mouth.
Elsie loked at it joyfully. 1T will
make me a child" she said, mo mat
ter if it has no arms and legs; the
face is everything.''
She carefully placed it at the end of
the bin, and whenever she could slip
away, without neglecting her work,
she would run down cellar, and talk
softly to it.
But one day her potato child was
gone! Elsie's heart gave a big jump,
and then fell like lead, and seemed to
lie perfectly still; but it commenced to
beat again, beat and ache, beat and
ache!
She tried to look for the changeling;
the tears fell fast, and there were so
many potatoes. She looked every
moment she could get all the next day
and cried a great deal. II can never
be real happy again." she thought.
Don't cry any more" said Miss
Amanda, ut does not look we'll when
you open the door for my customers.
You have enough to eat and wear,
what more do you want?'
Something to love-" said Elsie.
She tried not to cry again, and then
she felt worse not to shed tears, when
perhaps, her dear little potato-child
was eaten up.
Two days after, as she was still
searching, a little piece of white
paper in the far dark corner attracted
her attention. She went over and
lifted it up. Behind it was a hole.
hole, lay her potato child. I think
rat had dragged 1T out of the bin. She
Rugged it to her heart, and cried for
joy.
ooh, my darling, you have come
back to me, you have come back
And then it seemed as If the pink eyes
Amanda, and asked if she could keep
of the potato child looked up into
Elsie's in affectionate gratitude; and it
became plain to Elsie that her child
loved her. She was so thankful that
she even kissed the little piece of
you I would never have found my
child. I mean to keep you always"
she said, and she wrapped 1T about her
potato-child and put them in her
Z bosom. we must never De pdfleu
again." she murmured.
At supper, with many misgivings,
she produced her treasure to Miss
it for her own. II won't eat any po-
tato for dinner tomorrow if you will
give me this" she said.
"Well," answered Miss Amanda, Il
don't know as it will do any harm;
what do you want it for?'
at is my potato child. I want to
love it,
.'See you lose no time, then" said
Miss Amanda.
Elsie never called the potato 1t, but
always my child"
She found a fragment of calico large
enough for a dress and skirt, with
enough over, queer, three-cornered
piece, which she pinned about the
unequal shoulders for a shawl Upon
the bonnet she worked for days
the child. Last of all, she begged a
ings, for a night dress. Then she
She must have heard a tiny tuber-
never forget the sound of kind words,
and the world is full of joy
Elsie had a candle-box in her room,
with the cover hung on hinges. 1t
served the double purpose of a trunk
and a, seat She put her child's
clothes and the scrap Of white paper
in this box In the daytime she let
her child sit upon the window sill so
she could see the blue sky; but when
the weather grew colder she took her
down to the kitchen with her each