Lizzy Glenn; Or, The Trials of a Seamstress — John Shaqi
Lizzy Glenn; Or, The Trials of a SeamstressArthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
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Lizzy Glenn; Or, The Trials of a Seamstress
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
Women dressmakers -- Fiction
"Not till this afternoon," murmured the mother, sadly, as she
thought of her children, and how meagerly she had been able to
provide for them during the past few days. Turning away from the
counter, she left the store and hurried homeward. Henry met her at
the door as she entered, and, seeing that she brought nothing with
her but the small bundles of work, looked disappointed. This touched
her feeling a good deal. But she felt much worse when Ella, the sick
one, half raised herself from her pillow a said--
"Did you get me that orange, as you promised, mother?"
"No, dear; I couldn't get any money this morning," the mother
replied, bending over her sick child and kissing her cheek, that was
flushed and hot with fever. "But as soon as Mr. Berlaps pays me, you
shall have an orange."
"I wish he would pay you soon then, mother; for I want one so bad. I
dreamed last night that I had one, and just as I was going to eat
it, I waked up. And, since you have been gone, I've been asleep, and
dreamed again that I had a large juicy orange. But don't cry mother.
I know you couldn't get it for me. I'll be very patient."
"I know you will, my dear child," said the mother, putting an arm
about the little sufferer, and drawing her to her bosom; "you have
been good and patient, and mother is only sorry that she has not
been able to get you the orange you want so badly."
"But I don't believe I want it so very, very bad, mother, as I seem
to. I think about it so much--that's the reason I want it, I'm sure.
I'll try and not think about it any more."
"Try, that's a dear, good girl," murmured Mrs. Gaston, as she kissed
her child again, and then turned away to resume once more her
wearying task. Unrolling one of the coarse jackets she had brought
home, she found that it was of heavy beaver cloth, and had to be
sewed with strong thread. For a moment or two, after she spread it
out upon the table, she looked at the many pieces to be wrought up
into a well-finished whole, and thought of the hours of hard labor
it would require to accomplish the task. A feeling of discouragement
stole into her heart, and she leaned her head listlessly upon the
table. But only a moment or two elapsed before a thought of her
children aroused her flagging energies.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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