s while that I was studying and exploring in the borderland
between the old life and the new; leaping at conclusions, and
sometimes slipping; finding inspiration in common things, and
interpretations in dumb things; eagerly scaling the ladder of
learning, my eyes on star-diademmed peaks of ambition; building up
friendships that should support my youth and enrich my womanhood;
learning to think much of myself, and much more of my world,--while I
was steadily gathering in my heritage, sowed in the dim past, and
ripened in the sun of my own day, what was my sister doing?

Why, what she had always done: keeping close to my mother's side on
the dreary marches of a humdrum life; sensing sweet gardens of
forbidden joy, but never turning from the path of duty. I cannot
believe but that her sacrifices tasted as dust and ashes to her at
times; for Frieda was a mere girl, whose childhood, on the whole, had
been gray, while her appetite for happy things was as great as any
normal girl's. She had a fine sense for what was best in the life
about her, though she could not articulate her appreciation. She
longed to possess the good things, but her position in the family
forbidding possession, she developed a talent for vicarious enjoyment
which I never in this life hope to imitate. And her simple mind did
not busy itself with self-analysis. She did not even know why she was
happy; she thought life was good to her. Still, there must have been
moments when she perceived that the finer things were not in
themselves unattainable, but were kept from her by a social tyranny.
This I can only surmise, as in our daily intercourse she never gave a
sign of discontent.

We continued to have part of our life in common for some time after
she went to work. We formed ourselves into an evening school, she and
I and the two youngsters, for the study of English and arithmetic. As
soon as the supper dishes were put away, we gathered around the
kitchen table, with books borrowed from school, and pencils supplied
by my father with eager willingness. I was the teacher, the others the
diligent pupils; and the earnestness with which we labored was worthy
of the great things we meant to achieve. Whether the results were
commensurate with our efforts I cannot say. I only know that Frieda's
cheeks flamed with the excitement of reading English monosyllables;
and her eyes shone like stars on a moonless night when I explained to
her how she and I and George Washi