Year: 1877




might have known all the time he
would never answer that letter; it has
always been my luck. Let me see how
many lovers have had.


There was No. /, waiting on me when
my father died of heart disease and left
me penniless at seventeen. He came
to see me after the funeral, and told me
that he had great sympathy and respect
for me, and that he should never marry
unless 1t was some poor girl thrown on
her own resources, and with no one to
take care of her, as he thought that was
the true way for a true gentleman to do; ;
and with these sentiments he bowed
himself out for the last time.


Most heavenly philosophy! but then
he married the same year the daughter
of wealthy man, who had never done
anything harder in her life than curl
her front hair over slate pencils.


Then there was the young man who
wrote poetry, and threatened to die or
shoot himself when | refused him-this
was years ago. He is now i'm good
health, with wife and two children;
but | always hated men who wrote
poetry.


Then there was Judge Featherby. He
visited me for year, and said he loved
me; but something he dignifed by the
name of pride forbade him from saying
anything more, and have been heartily
glad since that he was ashamed of
me.


But the thought ofnone of these well
disposed and settled gentlemen makes
the non-arrival of that letter any easier
for me. | get weary and cross; my
chest is getting weak, and get faint
and dizzy by spells.


Some days, when 1 stand at the lace
counter waiting on some fashionable
lady who is pricing this and cheapening
that, think | shall fFll over in a dead
faint from sheer exhaustion. Women
are so much harder to suit than men,
and, ten to one, 60 picking over every
thing and go out without buying any
thing, very likely, because so few of
them, poor things, have any money of
their own to spend.


The fall winds come, and | walk over
beds of fallen leaves; then that long,
awful winter of 1874 / wade through
high drifts and through storms that take
my breath away, to reach Sharp &
Sniper's.


Sophia, the oldest of my sisters,
is ailing this winter, so | get up and |
build the fire at five with numb fingers,
so as to get to the store at seven. Be
fore the spring opens, that she so longs |
to see, poor, patient, hard-working
Sophia dies.


Anticipating the life that was before
her, have tried to instil into her the
principle that work is her end and aim,
and that she must not expect anything
beyond in the life of woman who is
both poor and unbeautiful.


She had done most of the cooking and |
all of the housewOrk for US three, while |
| have been at Sharp and Sniper's, and |
May has been at school.


have come home, worn out and fret
full, to help what can by snatches.


She has had about half of what she
ought to have had to eat, and about a
a third of what she ought to have had
to wear. Well, she Is at rest now, and
has gone where call hearts are filed"
and | stay where hearts are hollow.


/ close her eyes; lay her out in the
summer silk that should have graced
our welding; take the seventy-fve dol
lars | have laid away in the bank, to
buy her a coffin and pay the funeral eX-
penses.


About this time there comes legacy
of few hundreds from an old uncle of
ours. send May off to school with
this, determined that she shall not be like
Sophia. l am left alone. l do my own
work. eat my solitary meals, salted
with lonely tears. have ceased to hope
ever to hear from Fred now.


The June days have come again, hot
and long. There is sunshine without
happiness, and stiffness without rest.


look at the glass; am all eyes; my
face is sharpening out, my collar bones
protrude. am getting waspy and thin;
so much for putting my trust in man.


Old Sniper looked at me to-day, even
kindly, and said:


"NIiss 10, you must have vacation
of week or so; this hot weather in the
country will do you good, and you can
work the better on your return"


So | thanked him, thinking sadly
that no trip in the country can make
me happy now; that | am heir hence
forth only to woman's undisputed le-
gacy, tears, and longing after the love
and appreciation she will never receive.


The big-hearted manager of the road,
who is acquainted with me, has given
me a pass to st. Paul and return.
care little which way Igo, and have Sc
lected this route because it passes
through the town where Fred Langley
lives. Though | half despise him for
his fickleness, still have a woman's
curiosity to ride through his city, even
though can only catch glimpse of
his Office windows.


l get me a brown poplin travelling
dress. find that old maids generally
have brown poplin, and the older they
get the more colors they wear, especially
scarlet. l have always hated red. |
cannot see my way clear just yet to
putting it on my bonnet, so get more
youthful bunch of pale blush rose buds