The new enterprise. (Madison, Fla.) 1901-1908, 1908-01-23

ing TO sew with her twisted fingers In
that old wheel chair; from Aunt Ruth,
going about with the martyr-like ex-
preston she always wore when she
had one OF her headaches; from the
fretting of Dot, her seven-year-old sis
ter. who was feeling very much out OF
sorts; from the new hired girl. who
had developed a temper and was
showing 1t by slamming the dinner
dishes as she washed them.
II seemed to Doris that she was the
one Of the family who had the great
est reason to look martyr-like and
slam things and be cross. 1t was so
dreadful to DO poor and to have eyes
that we're not strong. She felt that
she could have endured one Of these
afiictions, but both together -!
She had been forced to give up work.
ing In Mr. Ellsworth's once because
her eyes would not stand II, and there
were other things she could do but for
her eyes; and IL she could not earn
money, and had none to start with,
how was she ever to go to college?
Then mammals encouraging her to
take the college examination right af-
ter she graduated from high school, in
June, because there might be some
way provided, had made 1T seem as If
there really would be. And now, when
81 was September and almost time for
the term to begin, and Mary Clark and
Jessie Williamson and Helen Davis
were going, mamma said she could see
no possible way for her to go. 1t was
cruel! that was Just what 1t was. And
mamma didn't care a single mite.
Doris caught herself up here with
little tinge Of remorse Mamma hadn't
said much, but she must be a little
sorry, for ever since that last talk,
when Doris had said It seemed as II
she didn't want TO live II she couldn't |
have a college education, her mother |
had refrained from asking her to do |
the least thing about the house. She |
knew that Doris hated housework, but
unless she was sorry for her about |
something she tried nearly every day
TO make her do more to help.
IL despise homework, and I'm not |
going to do a bit more of 1t than
have to-" was Doris attitude, and
whatever she did do was done under
protest.
So generally mamma did the work
that Doris would not do, and much be-
sides. Aunt Clara, who was mammals
aunt, had little income, and so had
Aunt Ruth, who was mammals sister
and a widow, and Doris father had
left a little property when he died,
soon after Dot was born; but alto
gether IT was not nearly enough to sup
port them, and so mamma had a small
millinery business. In the slack sea-
son she did a good part Of the house
work, for Aunt Ruth was not strong,
and Aunt Clara was cripple, but
when, as now, the busy season was on,
they had a girl People had a habit
of coming to mamma when there was
sickness in their families, for she had
a gift for nursing, but she could never
stay long at time, for she had to be
at home to put Aunt Clara to bed, and
in the morning to get her up. She
planned the clothing for the family
also, though Aunt Ruth did most OF
the sewing, and even II they were poor
there were very few girls who dressed
as prettily and In such good taste as
Doris Eastman.
Yes, suppose mamma does feeh
sorry for me, in a way" Darts admit
ed, continuing her reflections, "but she
can't really sympathize with me at all,
her tastes are so very different from
mine She likes millinery, / suppose,
and homework and nursing. l don't
imagine she ever had the least desire
for an education, so how can she pos
sibly understand how feel?'
Thore was the sound Of footsteps
and then Dots fretful
voice; Cant come in, Doris?"
mo, you can't Doris answered, IT.
rltably
-Well, here's a letter the postman
iusi brought"
The door was opened sufficiently TO
take 10 the letter. then locked again.
Doris studied the address, not at first
recognizing the writing. why, it's
from Nellie Bird" she said, after look
Ing at the postmark. ITS so long
since she has written, thought she
had dropped the correspondence. What
1 thick letter."
Upon opening Il, however Doris
found only brief note from her friend
explaining the rest OF the enclosure.
Jn looking over some old letters she
wrote. "l came across these, written