would have hesitated, I think, before she entrusted her precious
darlings to my care.

"This period of virtuous serving was the severest strain to which my
nature, physical and moral, was ever put. I finally became very ill, and
had to be removed to my mother's house, as completely broken in body as
I had apparently been in spirit.

* * * * *

"I sat near the window gazing vacantly at the scene below. All the
morning I had sat there with that empty feeling in my soul. From time to
time my mother spoke to me, but I answered without turning my head.
Since my illness I seemed to have lost all interest in life, and this,
although everybody was kind to me. My mother gave me novels to read and
money to go to the dances. The books I scarcely glanced at, and what I
did read seemed so silly to me! And the dances had lost their charm. I
went once or twice, but the music did not awaken any emotion in me, and
I sat dully in a corner watching, without any desire to join in. And
this, when I was hardly past sixteen years of age!

"The day before, I had been down town looking for a job in the stores,
for my mother had told me that I might work in the shops or factories
again, if I wished. Although even this assurance failed to interest me,
I had obediently tried to find a position, but oh! how weary I was and
how I longed for some quiet corner where I might sit for ever and ever
and ever without moving. This morning I was wearier than ever, my feet
seemed weighted, and I could hardly drag them across the room. My mother
asked me anxiously, if I were ill. 'No, no,' I said. 'Then my child,'
she replied, 'you must positively find work. You father is getting old
and it would be a shame to have him support a big girl like you--big
enough to make her own living. Don't you want to go back to your last
place? She would be very glad to have you, I am sure.'

"This last remark aroused me, and I replied that I would never go back,
even if I had to starve. 'Don't worry, mother,' I said, 'I'll go now,
and if I don't find a place, I won't come back.' 'Oh, what a torture it
is to have children,' moaned my mother. 'Don't you know your father
would kill me if you did not return?'

"Her words fell on heedless ears, for I was already half way down the
stairs. I bought a paper and in it read this advertisement, 'Wanted: a
neat girl to do second work in suburb near Chicago. Apply to No. --
Wabash Avenue.' Within an hou