Year: 1872

nearer the fire and hand me my sewing.
l will have to relate some very sad pOr-
tions of my life, but then


Into each life some rain must fall,
| Some days be dark and dreary.'


1 first remember William Wilson as a
fine boy of five summers. His mother
brought him TO our house at that age.
Widow Wilson was cook in my fathers
establishment, prefering that position to
a more lucrative one; as she could keep
her boy with her. Faithfully for eight
long years she performed her daily task,
when death suddenly removed her to 4
happier CLINE.


Being an only child, l would often
slip down to the kitchen to see Willie.
You may be sure 1 enjoyed those visits
| Willie would bring out his little store of
books and read TO me or explain the
pictures. (By the way lie was a better
scholar than j.. His mother had given
him every advantage that her means
would allow, and being naturally a
bright boy, he had received several
prizes from his teachers for good schol-
arship. After We had looked at the
books until we were tired, would sing
for him, or if the weather was fine, we
would play in the garden. In those
happy days | thought as much of Willie
as though he had been my own brother


One bright spring morning Willie and
| were i'm the garden working, diligently
laying out miniature flower bed, when
/ was startled by hearing my mother say,
Kate, whose boy is that@


] replied, it's Willie
But who is Willie% she continued.


Willie now came forward, cap in hand,
and answered, willie Wilson, ma'am;'
but seeing herpuzzled look he explained
the cooks boy


We'll, sir, ] never want y0u to pre-
sumo TO speak to my daughter again.
Now be of'p


At that the blood rushed 10 his face,
but before he could say n word, I had NV
arms about his neck. 20 Willie, cried,
don't be angry. l shall always love
you


Yes, Kittie,' he replied, 'and shall
always Tore you, and nobody can hinder
me-


My mother took me by the arm and
led me away saying, willie is bad.
bad boy, and am surprised that a child
of mine could forget herself so far as to
associate with a poor cook's JoH What
would the world say? Has my dear
Kate forgotten her mammals position i'm
society?'


But when | persisted that willie was
a good boy-the very best boy that ever
lived, she silenced me by saying that she
would hear no more about him, but if
were a good girl she would have cousin
Carrie and Frank Steadman come and
spend the summer with me.


/ didn't want Frank TO come. The
last time he had been to see me he chop
ped my new dolls head off; and then
Carrie would take all my nice dishes
and toys from me. didn't like her one
bit.


Ny mother left me at the nursery
door, with strict orders to Jane, the
nurse, not to let me go out unless she ac-
companied me. Nurse was person
after mothers own heart. Considering
poverty crime, she was always re-
minding me of my station. So knew
that Willie and l were as thoroughly
separated rs though the ocean rolled be-
tween us. But what does child care
for station? 1 in my ignorance land
my mother dcplored it) considered all
men free and equal.


That evening, when my father came
home, wanted him to tell me why il
was wrong to be poor.


He asked me who had put such an
idea into his little girls head?'


1 then told him about Willie, and that
mother had forbidden me to play with
him because he was the cooks son and
was poor.


He said that simple poverty was not q
crime, but that vice was, and the pool
were more apt TO be vicious than the
wealthy. Still he did not want his
daughter to associate with any one she
would he ashamed TO acknowledge a.
an acquaintance among her friends.


I ashamed of Williel 7 was sure ]
never should be, no difference what hap
pened.


MY father inquired, If you were 9
young lady would you like to be
seen walking the streets with Tom, the
coal heaver?'


NO. replied, Il would not like TO be
seen with Tom. He is drunk nearly al
the time. But Willie Hecer will be like
him.


in all probability continued my
father, 'he will be nothing but a servant
and it is best you should have nothing
: more to do with him.
/ was silenced, but ever after If I haC
a nice book that thought Willie woulC
, like. il was sure to find its way to tn,
kitchen. But never saw him until tht
day of his mothers death, which hap
, pened six years afterward. When
heard of his bereavement, l ran down {,
find him and offer my sympathy.
was surprised. Could that great boy b,
my Willie? But there was no mistak
! ing when he looked up and said, 70
, Kittle, is it you?' and then burst int,
tears. / tried to soothe him, but it wa