Louisa loved all these plays, and she
made some of her own and wrote them
down so that the children could act them.
But better than fun or writing Louisa
loved her mother, and by and by, as the
little girl began to grow into a big girl, she
felt very sad to see her dear mother work
so hard. She helped all she could with the
housework, but nothing could really help
the tired mother except money; she needed
money for food and clothes, and some one
grown up, to help in the house. But there
never was enough money for these things,
and Louisa's mother grew more and more
weary, and sometimes ill. I cannot tell you
how much Louisa suffered over this.
At last, as Louisa thought about it,
she came to care more about helping her
mother and her father and her sisters
than about anything else in all the world.
And she began to work very hard to earn
money. She sewed for people, and when
she was a little older she taught some
little girls their lessons, and then she wrote
stories for the papers. Every bit of money
she earned, except what she had to use,
she gave to her dear family. It helped very
much, but it was so little that Louisa never
felt as if she were doing anything.
Every year she grew more unselfish, and
every year she worked harder. She liked
writing stories best of all her work, but
she did not get much money for them, and
some people told her she was wasting her
time.
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