The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1906-05-17


Harbor. shall pay the. expense of 3
this trip as partial return for your
father 8 kindness in getting me an in
yitation and your mothers kindness in
allowing me to be one of your party
.'Oh, then it isn't an elopement, but
legacy. Has the wicked but wealthy
relative diede''
Eyes, - said Dorothy solemnly, her,
eyes on the, floor.
. 'Oh, | am SO sorry for what I have !,
You always speak without think
lng,o chided her mother.
Yes, don't I? But, you see,
relatives; but if she had one who was
wealthy, and who allowed her to slave
at sewing, then l say he was wicked,
dead or alive, so there!'
j ."When work is paid for it is not
slavery commented Sabina with Sc
verify and Justice. -.
The sewing girl looked up at her.
My grandfather, in Virginia, owned
slaves before the war, and have often
thought that any curse which may
have been attached to slavery has at
least partly been expiated by me, as
foreshadowed in the Bible, where it
says that the sins Of the fathers shall
affect the third or fourth generations.
L was thinking of that when / spoke
Of the shackles falling from my wrists.
for sometimes, Miss Kempt,. you have
made me doubt whether wages and
slavery are as incompatible as you APP
pear to imagine. Ny father, who was
a clergyman, often spoke to me of his
fathers slaves. and while he never de-
Tended the institution, think the past
in his mind was softened by glamor
that possibly obseured the defects of
life on the plantation. But often in de-
preston and loneliness I have thought
l would rather have been one of my
grandfather s slaves than endure the
Oh, Dorothy, dom It talk like that,
OF. you III make me cry,' pleaded Kate.
;"Let, US be cheerful whatever hap
pens. Tell us about the money. Begin
'Once upon a time and then every
thing will be all right. No matter how
narrowing such a story begins, it al
ways ends with lashin s and lashin IS of
geous uniform and gold lace, and you
get. the half of his kingdom. Do go
on 49,.
Dorothy looked up at her impatient
friend, and = radiant cheerfulness
chased away the gathering shadows
from her face. .--. ... ~
i '"Well, once upon time lived very
happily with my father in little rec
tory in a little town near the Hudson
river. His family had been ruined by
the war, and when the plantation was
sold, or allowed to 20 derelict, whatever
money came from it went to his elder
and only brother My father was
dreamy scholar and not a business man
as his brother seems to have been. My
mother had died when I was child;
do not remember her. My father was
the kindest and most patient of men,
and all know he taught me. We were
,n1orfnol tho 1,,ft
Of housekeeper,. which I performed as
pell as I was able, constantly learning
BY my failures. But my father was so
Indifferent to material comforts that
there were never any reproaches. He
taught me all that I know in the way of
what you might call accomplishments,
and they were of strangely varied
order smattering of Latin and
Greek, good deal of French, history,
! literature, and even dancing, as well as
music, for he was an excellent musician.
Our meager income ceased with my
, fathers life, and I had to choose what
I should do to earn my board and keep,
like Orphant Annie, in Whitcomb Ri
ley's poem. There appeared to be three
avenues open to me. / could be gov
erness, domestic servant, or dressmaker.
I had already earned something at the
, latter occupation, and I thought If
there was a greater chance of gaining
an independence along that line than
either as governess or servant. But
to do this I needed at least little cap
ital.
stAltho there had been no conmuni-
cation between the two brothers for
MANY wears. I had nv uncle s address,
and I wrote acquainting him: with the
fact of my father death. and asking
for some assistance to set up in bust
ness for myself, promising to repay the
amount advanced with interest as soon
as I was able, for altho nv father had
never said anytime AGAINST his elder
brother, somehow had OWNED, rather
than knew. that he was a hard man:
and his answering letter gave proof of
that, for it contained no expression of
regret for his brothers. death. MY
I: uncle declined to make the advance
asked for. saving that many years be-
fore he had given my father 5000 which
had never been repaid. / was thus
compelled. for the time at least, to