"
"You are beside yourself, Katy. It pains me to hear you talk so.
It is sad to think a child of mine should relish such an
employment as that in which you are going to engage."
"Do you remember the book my Sunday-school teacher gave me last
New Year's day, mother? It was all about false pride; I want you
to read it, mother. We can't afford to be so proud."
"Go and get your molasses. Katy," replied Mrs. Redburn, who could
not but acknowledge the truth of her daughter's remarks.
She had read the book alluded to, and was not willing to confront
the arguments it had put in the mouth of her child. She was
conscious that her pride, which made a humble occupation
repulsive to her, was a false pride. If it could have been
carried on in private, it would not have seemed so galling. For
years she had been a recluse from society, mingling only with her
humble neighbors, and with them no more than her circumstances
required. She had labored in solitude, and shunned observation as
much as possible, by carrying her work back and forth in the
evening. Years of hard toil had not familiarized her with the
circumstances of her lot. She tried to be humble and submissive,
but the memory of her early days could not be driven away.
Katy returned in a few minutes with the jug of molasses.
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