ese I will not
dwell, as I wish to hasten to the most interesting part of my story. My
troubles in North Carolina were brought to an end by my unexpected
return to Virginia, where I lived with Mr. Garland, who had married Miss
Ann[e] Burwell, one of my old master's daughters. His life was not a
prosperous one, and after struggling with the world for several years he
left his native State, a disappointed man. He moved to St. Louis, hoping
to improve his fortune in the West; but ill luck followed him there, and
he seemed to be unable to escape from the influence of the evil star of
his destiny. When his family, myself included, joined him in his new
home on the banks of the Mississippi, we found him so poor that he was
unable to pay the dues on a letter advertised as in the post-office for
him. The necessities of the family were so great, that it was proposed
to place my mother out at service. The idea was shocking to me. Every
gray hair in her old head was dear to me, and I could not bear the
thought of her going to work for strangers. She had been raised in the
family, had watched the growth of each child from infancy to maturity;
they had been the objects of her kindest care, and she was wound round
about them as the vine winds itself about the rugged oak. They had been
the central figures in her dream of life--a dream beautiful to her,
since she had basked in the sunshine of no other. And now they proposed
to destroy each tendril of affection, to cloud the sunshine of her
existence when the day was drawing to a close, when the shadows of
solemn night were rapidly approaching. My mother, my poor aged mother,
go among strangers to toil for a living! No, a thousand times no! I
would rather work my fingers to the bone, bend over my sewing till the
film of blindness gathered in my eyes; nay, even beg from street to
street. I told Mr. Garland so, and he gave me permission to see what I
could do. I was fortunate in obtaining work, and in a short time I had
acquired something of a reputation as a seamstress and dress-maker. The
best ladies in St. Louis were my patrons, and when my reputation was
once established I never lacked for orders. With my needle I kept bread
in the mouths of seventeen persons for two years and five months. While
I was working so hard that others might live in comparative comfort, and
move in those circles of society to which their birth gave them
entrance, the thought often occurred to me whether I was