favourite of all, she was so full of good humour, and had such a
cheerful, peace-loving spirit. Her parents were poor, but
respectable people, who died when Helen was fifteen years old. She
was then taken from school, and I never saw her afterward until she
came to my house in the capacity of a washerwoman, hundreds of miles
away from the scenes of our early years.

"But can't you find easier work than washing?" I asked. "Are you not
handy with your needle?"

"The only work I have been able to get has been from the clothing
men, and they pay so little that I can't live on it."

"Can you do fine sewing?" I asked.

"Yes, I call myself handy with my needle."

"Can you make children's clothes?"

"Boy's clothes?"

"No. Girl's clothing."

"Oh, yes."

"I'm very much in want of some one. My children are all in"--rags
and tatters I was going to say, but I checked myself--"are all in
need of clothes, and so far I have not been able to get anybody to
sew for me. If you like, I will give you three or four weeks' sewing
at least."