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Transcriber's Note: This document is the text of Trial and Triumph. Any bracketed notations such as [?], and those inserting letters or other comments are from the original text.
Transcriber's Note About the Author:Francis Ellen Watkins Harper (1825-1911) was born to free parents inBaltimore, Maryland. Orphaned at three, she was raised by her uncle, ateacher and radical advocate for civil rights. She attended the Academyfor Negro Youth and was educated as a teacher. She became a professionallecturer, activist, suffragette, poet, essayist, novelist, and the authorof the first published short story written by an African-American. Herwork spanned more than sixty years.
A Rediscovered Novel by
Frances E.W. Harper
Edited by Frances Smith Foster
"Oh, that child! She is the very torment of my life. I have been themother of six children, and all of them put together, never gave me asmuch trouble as that girl. I don't know what will ever become of her."
"What is the matter now, Aunt Susan? What has Annette been doing?"
"Doing! She is always doing something; everlastingly getting herselfinto trouble with some of the neighbors. She is the most mischievous andhard-headed child I ever saw."
"Well what has she been doing this morning which has so upset you?"
"Why, I sent her to the grocery to have the oil can filled, and aftershe came back she had not been in the house five minutes before therecame such an uproar from Mrs. Larkins', my next door neighbor, that Ithought her house was on fire, but——"
"Instead of that her tongue was on fire, and I know what that means."
"Yes, that's just it, and I don't wonder. That little minx sitting upthere in the corner looking so innocent, stopped to pour oil on herclean steps. Now you know yourself what an aggravating thing that musthave been."
"Yes, it must have been, especially as Mrs. Larkins is such a nicehousekeeper and takes such pride in having everything neat and niceabout her. How did you fix up matters with her."
"I have not fixed them up at all. Mrs. Larkins only knows one cure forbad children, and that is beating them, and she always blames me forspoiling Annette, but I hardly know what to do with her. I've scoldedand scolded till my tongue is tired, whipping don't seem to do her a bitof good, and I hate to put her out among strangers for fear that theywill not treat her right, for after all she is very near to me. She ismy poor, dead Lucy's child. Sometimes when I get so angry with her thatI feel as though I could almost shake the life out of her, the thoughtof her dying mother comes back to me and it seems to me as if I couldsee her eyes looking so wistfully on the child and turning so trustinglyto me and saying, 'Mother, when I am gone won't you take care ofAnnette, and try to keep her with you?' And then all the anger dies outof me. Poor child! I don't know what is going to become of her when myhead is laid low. I'm afraid she is born for trouble. Nobody will everput up with her as I do. She has such an unhappy disposition. She is notlike any of my children ever were."
"Yes. I've often noticed that she does seem different from otherchildren. She never seems light