Year: 1877

for a true gentlemen to do; aud with
these sentiments he bowed himself out
for the 'ast time.


Most heavenly philosophy but then
he married the same year the daugh-
ter 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 1 refused him
this was years ago. He is now in good
health, with a wife and two children /;
but | always hated men who wrote
poetry


Then there was Judge Feathorby.
He visited me for year, and told me
he loved me but something he digni-
fed 10y the name of pride forbade him
from saying anything more, and l
have been heartily glad since that he
was ashamed Of me.


But the thought of none Of these
we'll l.disposed Of 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 | stand at the lace
counter waiting on some fashionable
lady who is pricing this aud cheaper.
ing that, / think l shall fall over in a
dead faint from sheer exhaustion.
Women are so much harder to suit
than men, and, ten to one. go picking
over everything and go ont, without
buying anything, very likely, because
so few Of them, poor things, have any
money Of their own to spend.


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


Sophia, the Oldest of my young sis
ters, is ailing this winter, so | get up
and build the fire at FIVE with numb
fingers, So as to get to the store at sew.
en-. Before the spring opens, that she
SO longs to see, poor, patient, hard
WI hlHS |)Ol)utd nlSS'


Anticipating the life that was be.
fore her, 1 have tried to instll into
her the principle that work is her end
and aim, and that she must not ex.
pect anything beyond in the life of a
woman who is both poor and unbeau-
tiful.


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


l have come home, worn out and
fretful, 10 help what l could by
snatches.


She has had about half what she
ought to have to eat, aud about
third Of what she ought to have had
TO wear. Well, she is at rest now, and
has gone where "all hearts are filled"
and l stay where hearts are hollow.


l closed her eyes lay her out in the
summer silk that should have graced
our wedding take the seventy-five dol
lars l have laid away in the bank, to
buy her a coffin and pay the funeral
expenses.


About this time there comes q lega
cy of few hundred from an old uncle
Of ours. l send May off to school with
this, determined she shall not be like
Sophia. ! am left alone. l do my
own work. l eat my solitary meals,
salted with lonely tears. | have ceas-
ed to even hope to hear from Fred
now.


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


| look at the glass-I 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, ev-
en- kindly, and said


"Miss Jo, you must have a vacation
a 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 re.
ceiye.


The big-hearted manager of the
road. who IS acquainted with me, has
given me pass to st. Paul and re-
turn. / care little which way / go,
and have selected this route because it
passes through the town where Fred
Langley lives. Though half despise
him for his fckleness, still have wo.
mans curiosity to ride through his
city, even though | only catch a
glimpse of his office window.


/ get me brown poplin travelling