For my mother was dead, God rest her,

And I would be left alone.

The bride to her trust was unfaithful—

Her heart was harder than stone.

And her widowed sister, left childless,

Adopted me as her own.

So we dwelt in opposite houses—

We in a dwelling low,

And he in a brown stone mansion.

I toiled and my gain was slow.

My uncle rode in a carriage

As fine as there was in the row.

Once, in a useless anger,

With courage not mine before,

I bearded the crafty lion,

Demanding my own, no more.

He said the law gave me nothing,

And showed me out of his door.

 [Pg 9] VI. MY AUNT INVITES HER IN TO DINE.

[Pg 9]

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