The daily telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1901-1926, 1907-04-30

n legacy. Has the wicked but wealthy
relative dledly
tYes.' said Dorothy soiemnly. her
eyes on the floor.
ooh, 1 am 50 sorry for what l have
Just saidr'
syou always speak without think
ing chfded her mother. fas
eyes, don't ~ But. you see,
thought somehow that Dorothy had no
relatives, but IL she had one who was
wealthy and who allowed her to slave
at sewing, then say he was. wicked.
dead or alive, so therer'
when work is paid for 1t Is not
slavery commented sabina with se-
verify and Justice.
The sewing girl looked up at her.
.sAfy grandfather, in Virginia, owned
slaves before the war, and I have
often thought that any curse which
mayc have been attached to slavery
has at least partly been explated by
me, as foreshadowed in the Bible,
where 1t says that the sins Of the IA
Tiers shall affect the third or fourth
generations. / 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 in
compatible as you appear to imagine.
My father, who was a clergyman,
often spoke to me OF his fathers
slaves, and. while he never defended
the institution, think the past in his
mind was softened by a glamour that
possibly obscured the defects OF life
ON the plantation. But often in de-
preston and loneliness I have thought
I would rather have been one of my
GRANDPA TIERS slaves than endure the
life have been called upon to lead"
ooh, Dorothy. don't talk like that,
or you'll make me cryr' pleaded Kate.
"Let us be cheerful. whatever happens.
Tell MS about the money. Begin Once
upon time and then everything will
he all right. No matter how narrowing
such story begins, 1t always ends
with lashin's and lashin's of money or
else with prince In gorgeous uni
form and gold lace and you get the
half Of his kingdom Do go on"
Dorothy looked up at her impatient
friend, and radiant cheerfulness
chased away the gathering shadows
from her face
well, once upon time lived very
happily with my father in a little rec
tory in little town near the Hudson
river. His family had been ruined by
the war, and when the plantation was
sold or allowed to go derelict what
ever 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 1
was child. I do not remember her.
My father was the kindest and most
patient of men, and all / know he
taught me. We were very poor. and I
undertook the duties of housekeeper,
which performed as well as I was
able, constantly learning by my fall
ures. But my father was so indiffer-
emit 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
"a smattering of Latin and Greek,
good deal of French, history, lltera-
ture and even dancing as well as mu-
sic, for he was an excellent musician.
Our meager income ceased with my
fathers life, and had to choose what
l should do TO earn my board and
keep, like orphant Annie in whltcomb
Rlley's poem. There appeared to be
three avenues open to me. I could be
a goveriess, domestic servant or dress
maker had already earned some
thingSatstheS latter occupation, and 1
thought IL could set up In business
for myself there was a greater chance
Of gaining an independence along that
line than either as governess or serv-
ant But to do this needed at least
little capital.
Although there had been no com
munication between the two brothers
for many years. had my uncle's adj.
dress, and 4 wrote acquainting him
with the fact of my fathers death and
asking for some assistance to set M in
business for myself, promising to re.
pay the amount advanced with inter.
est as soon as was able, for, although
my father had never said anything
against his elder brother. I somehow
had OWNED rather than knew that he
was hard man, and his answering
letter gave proof Of that, for 1t con.
tained no expression of regret for his
brothers death.
my uncle declined to make the ad.
vance I asked for, saying that many
years before he had given my father
$500 which had never been repaid.
was thus compelled, for the time at
least, to give up my plan for opening
dressmaking establishment, even on