No long hard tasks were set those soft little
fingers, even in those old days when children worked as well as their
elders. Ann admired and loved Hannah, because she had what she,
herself, had not; and Hannah loved and pitied Ann because she had not
what she had. It was a sweet little friendship, and would not have
been, if Ann had not been free from envy and Hannah humble and
pitying.
When Ann told her what a long stint she had to do before school,
Hannah would shed sympathizing tears.
Ann, after a solemn promise of secrecy, told her about the indentures
one day. Hannah listened with round, serious eyes; her brown hair was
combed smoothly down over her ears. She was a veritable little Puritan
damsel herself.
"If I could only get the papers, I wouldn't have to mind her, and work
so hard," said Ann.
Hannah's eyes grew rounder. "Why, it would be sinful to take them!"
said she.
Ann's cheeks blazed under her wondering gaze, and she said no more.
When she was about eleven years old, one icy January day, Hannah
wanted her to go out and play on the ice after school. They had no
skates, but it was rare fun to slide. Ann went home and asked Mrs.
Polly's permission with a beating heart; she promised to do a double
stint next day, if she would let her go. But her mistress was
inexorable--work before play, she said, always; and Ann must not
forget that she was to be brought up to work; it was different with
her from what it was with Hannah French.
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