ALMIRA AND MINNIE.
MOTHER.
Almira, go and get your work,
And sit with me, my dear;
And, Minnie, you may read to us,—
We will with pleasure hear.
Two little misses thus employed
Is a delightful sight;
Then after tea the time’s your own,
And you may play till night.
Minnie, why do you look displeased?
Don’t you approve my plan?
Well, alter it yourself, my dear;
Improve it if you can.
MINNIE.
I’m tired of sitting here alone,
Mamma, with only you;
I’m tired of work, indeed I am,
I’m tired of reading, too.
And only just Almira here,
And Fido now to play;
If I’d my will I’d go abroad
Most gladly every day.
MOTHER.
Minnie, do you know Peggy Hill,
That little, modest child,
Who sometimes comes on errands here?
She lives with Mrs. Wild.
She came the other day when you
Was sitting here with me;
Almira sewed, you had a book,
And read quite prettily.
She tried to do her errand twice;
But when she came to speak,
I saw her turn aside and wipe
A tear from off her cheek.
I thought it strange, and led her out;
“What ails you, child,” said I;
“Pray have you hurt yourself, or what
Can thus have made you cry?”
“Oh, no,” she said, “I am not hurt;
I am to blame, I fear;
But such a tender sight as this
Will always force a tear.
“For I had tender parents once,—
Affectionate and kind;
But they are dead; they both have gone,
And left their child behind.
“I had a little sister, too,
And many a pleasant day
We with our mother worked and read
The cheerful hours away.
“But when we lost our parents, ma’am,
Our living all was fled;
And we were placed in strangers’ hands,
To earn our daily bread.
“My sister could not long support
The hardship of her fate;
She left this miserable world
And sought a happier state.
“Since then I have mourn’d my heavy lot;
Alone, without relief,—
I have no friend to pity me
Or listen to my grief.
“My mistress lives in wealth and ease,
From want and sorrow free;
She never knew what labor was,
Nor can she feel for me.
“I work from morn till night, and try
To please her all the while,
And think sometimes I’d give the world
Just for one pleasant smile.
“But every day I give offence,
In spite of all my care;
And cruel words from day to day,
It is my lot to bear.”
MINNIE.
Oh, how I pity Peggy Hill!
Her case is sad indeed;
I’m thankful for my happy home,—
Dear mother, let me read.
And let Almira get her work;—
Fido, you run away
Till after tea, then on the green
We’ll run, and jump, and play.
