The first person I worked for was a half-breed woman, who had a rough, quarrelsome lot of children that I had to wait upon. Once in a while I was called into the front room, and would find some strangers there. One day the mistress was called away, when I was sent into the room, and the gentleman and lady who were there gave me a quarter, each. She had been making money out of me in this way all the while, but all the money I received for some months of hard labor was what these people gave me.
Then I was taken sick with the measles. The woman turned me out of doors. I did not know where to go. I just ran round and round the house. A young lady, from one of the best families in Winnipeg, found me in this plight, took me by the hand and led me home. She nursed me till I was well, and then gave me good clothes and found me a place to work. She told me to come back to her if I was in trouble again.
After working for some time in this place, I came to work for Mrs. C., the lady who is with me now. When she first saw me she thought I was a little child, and did not see how I could be of any use to her. But she pitied me because she thought I was cold, and gave me something to do. I lived with her three months. When I first came to her I could not speak enough English to tell her I liked coffee better than tea. My work was washing dishes. They would help me into a chair so that I could reach the table. When at last I was able to explain, with the help of an Iceland girl who lived next door, that I desired to travel as a curiosity, hoping in this way to make money enough to bring my brothers and sisters from Iceland, Mr. and Mrs. C. consented to come with me.
My father agreed to let me go, if I would go with respectable people and remain with them. I had worn my seal skin suit about in Manitoba until it was worn out, but my father had taken care of my polar bear suit, so I had that to bring with me. He let me bring his new flint and walrus tusk, also.
But a few months afterwards he sent for his spear, because he thought he could not get along without it, so I returned it to him. He is still living in Manitoba, and is 65 years old. This is several years older than people live in Greenland. Oldest people we ever knew were 60 years old. This I know from the Icelanders, who went round to all the snow houses and counted the bones in the different sacks.
When I reached Minneapolis I was taken sick, and the doctors did not know what to do for me. They kept me in a warm room, and I grew worse every day. At last Mr. C. heard of a doctor who had been in Greenland, and sent for him. Under his advice I was taken to Minnetonka and kept in a cold room, and I got well.
At first I traveled as a curiosity and charged ten cents. All I could do was to let the people see me, show my costume, flint and tusk, sing a few songs, etc. By degrees I learned to answer questions, and at last came to talk pretty well. While we were at a place in Indiana, called Cloverdale, some professors and a minister urged me to give a lecture. They secured a large hall, and when I peeked through a hole in the curtain I saw about 300 people, and was nearly scared out of my wits. But Mrs. C. got me mad over something about my dress, and the curtain went up while I was standing there, and I spoke to them right along. That was Dec. 30th, 1884. Since then I have been lecturing right along, except in some short times of sickness, and the hottest weather. I have been in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Ilinois, Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Missouri, Kansas, and Nebraska, and I hope by next year, to have all my brothers and sisters with me, so that we can travel together and help the missionary teachers in Iceland, where we got our education in the first place.
A great many funny things have been said to me by visitors, and a great many curious questions asked. Generally, people are kind and considerate, but sometimes they are rude and uncivil. I am always glad to satisfy reasonable curiosity to the best of my ability, but I do not like impertinence any better than any body else.
I was somewhat surprised by one old lady, a year or so ago. After she had listened for some time, and become greatly interested, she came up and said, "Where did yeou say yeou kum from?" "From the eastern coast of Greenland." "Greenland! why la, yes. I know that country. My husband's got a farm there." A farm in Greenland! Well, a good many other people have made mistakes fully equal to the old lady's.
Americans, I think you do not realize your blessings in this great land of plenty, where you have so many fine things. Even here, I often see sad faces, and hear words of discontent. Sometimes I am a little discontented myself, when I see something I want, and think I cannot, or ought not to, have it. But I soon get over that feeling when I remember my home in the frozen north, where we sat still through the weary hours, shivering with the cold, choked by the smoke, and often almost perishing with hunger.