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Katie Robertson by Margaret E. Winslow



By MARGARET E. WINSLOW Author of "Miss Malcolm's Ten," "Three Years at Glenwood," etc.



Copyright, 1885, By Congregational Sunday School and Publishing Society.


To the many boys and girls who are in early years earning an honorable support for themselves, or else assisting their parents by working in factories; to the multitudes of young church members, who may be glad of some practically helpful suggestions in surmounting the difficulties and resisting the temptations incident to their new lives; to mill-owners, who feel their solemn responsibility, as in the sight of God, for the intellectual and spiritual welfare of their operatives; and chiefly to the young Christian manufacturer who has been the model from which the picture of "Mr. James" has been copied,--this story, whose incidents are mostly true ones, is dedicated.

That the Holy Spirit may make use of it to inculcate in young hearts a sense of honorable independence, a conviction of the dignity of faithfully performed work, and, above all, an earnest and irrevocable choice of God's blessed service and an entire committal of their ways to him, is the sincere prayer of


SAUGERTIES, July 1, 1885.





"But, mother, it isn't as if I were going away from home, like the Lloyd girls; you might have a right to cry if that were the case."

"I know, dear; it's all right, and I ought to be very thankful; but I'm a foolish woman. I can't bear to think of _my_ little girl, whom I have guarded so tenderly, going among all those girls and men, and fighting her way in life."

"I don't think I shall be much of a fighter," laughed Katie, looking at her diminutive hands; "and why is it any worse to go among the boys and girls in the factory than among the boys and girls in school? You never minded that."

"That was different--you weren't doing it for money. O me! what would I have thought when I married your father if any one had told me that his child, his _girl_ child, would ever have to earn her bread!"

"Well, mother, I won't go," said the girl, her bright looks fading away, "if you don't want me to; but I don't know what Mr. Sanderson will think, he tried so hard to get me into the mill, and it was such a favor from Mr. Mountjoy. You _said_ you were very thankful."

"So I was, so I am; but--but you don't understand, and perhaps it's better you should not. I'll try not to grumble."

This was promising more than Mrs. Robertson was able to perform perhaps, for she was a chronic and inveterate grumbler. But she had some excuse in the present

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