Newspaper Page Text
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Not for ME, but for YOU. I do not
worry about my faults. Why should
YOU? I shall not worry about YOUR
faults. I shall not correct them. I
shall not take them from you. They
are YOUR faults. ' Be happy with
thi:m.
I shall listen to you, yes. But be
content when you have had YOUR
say. Let me think it out myself.- I
cannot be YOU. YOU cannot be I.
-o-
Can't YOU take ME as I am? If not,
then we cannot be friends.
But I will be YOUR friend and
brother, anyhow. I want YOU to be
YOU.
Whatever I am, I am formed, YOU
shall not re-form ME. I cannot re
form YOU. But whatever YOU are,
and whatever I am, I greet your, MY
BROTHER.
And I shall ask no questions.
o-
MOTHER WORKS WHILE U. C. HOLDS ON TO
MONEY GIVEN THEM FOR HER
BY JANE WHITAK.ER
It is a little home under the stairs,
and it isn't a bit fancy, and it is
heated with a stove when there is
coal in the house, but I think many
people who live in mansions might
envy that home.
I called on Mrs. Rose, 2550 W.
Monroe street, to ask her regarding
the treatment she had received at
the hands of the United Charities this
winter when she was in very destitute
circumstances.
Mrs. Rose was not at home, but
George, a boy of 18, admitted me and
told me he was taking care of the
house and baby sister until mother
came back.
George and I became friends at
once. He is such a nice, clean boy,
with fine eyes that have a way of
looking straight at you, and he un
folded his plans to me for all the
world as though I were hjs older sis
ter. "I haven't been able to get work
this winter," he said, "and its fierce
being idle. I've worked at different
things since I was 13, and I want
to work, any kind of work, but I just
can't find it. I'd have been out hunt
ing today," but somebody had to stay
home to take care of the baby while
the children are at school.
"She ain't a bit of trouble. Just
like you see her now amusing her
self, she is all day. I got a big
brother, but he's married, and then
I have a sister 1G, who is out doing
housework. She's going to write a
story about a working girl. She
started it and it's a dandy.
"Then I, got two sisters in school
and a kid brother in school. We're
some family, aren't we?"
I agreed that they were as I
watched the little sisters come in
from school laughing over some
prank, and brother, a sturdy little
lad of about 12, who picked up his
baby sister and gave her some re-
sounding kisses. S
Then grandpa came in and the
children all clamored to be kissed by
aim, and my throat ached, longing
for my own brothers and sisters and
the loving one gets in a real "home."
But George talked cheerfully on
and we became chummier and chum
mier until I was just racking my
brains for some way to get him a job
of some kind, when mother arrived.
Mrs. Rose is just a little woman;
somehow the mothers who go out
and work when hard luck pushes
open the door are usually little bits
of women with unconquerable spirits.
I told her of my errand.
"There isn't much to tell," she
said, "because, as a matter of fact,
the United Charities did not do any
thing for us. My husband was out
of work, my oldest son just got a job
a little over a month ago and George
has been unable to get work all win
ter. "I go out and do cleaning as many
days a week as I can get the work,
I
1
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