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+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Grandmother, by Sophie May.
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Grandmother, by Sophie May
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Little Grandmother
+
+Author: Sophie May
+
+Release Date: May 18, 2008 [EBook #25507]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE GRANDMOTHER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/front.jpg" width="330" height="500" alt="LITTLE GRANDMOTHER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.&mdash;Page <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</span>
+</div>
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 299px;">
+<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="299" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h4><i>LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES.</i></h4>
+
+<h1>LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>SOPHIE MAY,</h2>
+
+<h4>AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES," "DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES," "THE DOCTOR'S
+DAUGHTER," ETC.</h4>
+
+<h3><i>ILLUSTRATED.</i></h3>
+
+<p class="center">
+BOSTON:<br />
+LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.<br />
+<br />
+NEW YORK:<br />
+LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.<br />
+<br />
+1873.<br />
+<br />
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870,<br />
+<span class="smcap">By</span> LEE AND SHEPARD,<br />
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+Electrotyped and Printed at the Establishment of<br />
+W. W. HARDING,<br />
+Philadelphia.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">TO<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">MY LITTLE CUBAN FRIEND<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4"><i>MARIA AROZARENA.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><i>LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES.</i></h2>
+
+<h4>TO BE COMPLETED IN SIX VOLS.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">1. LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">2. PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">3. AUNT MADGE'S STORY.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">4. LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">(Others in preparation.)<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+CHAPTER                              <span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br />
+<br />
+I. <span class="smcap">George Washington</span>,              <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></span><br />
+<br />
+II. <span class="smcap">The Sampler</span>,              <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></span><br />
+<br />
+III. <span class="smcap">The Broken Bridge</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></span><br />
+<br />
+IV. <span class="smcap">The Tithing-man</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span><br />
+<br />
+V. <span class="smcap">A Witch-talk</span>,            <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VI. <span class="smcap">A Witch-fright</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VII. <span class="smcap">The Silk Pocket</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></span><br />
+<br />
+VIII. <span class="smcap">Patty's Sunday</span>,        <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></span><br />
+<br />
+IX. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Chase's Bottle</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></span><br />
+<br />
+X. <span class="smcap">Master Purple</span>,        <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XI. <span class="smcap">Little Grandfather</span>,         <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XII. <span class="smcap">The Little Dipper</span>,        <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XIII. <span class="smcap">Mr. Starbird's Dream</span>,        <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XIV. <span class="smcap">Spinning</span>,           <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span><br />
+<br />
+XV. <span class="smcap">The Brass Kettle</span>,        <span class="tocnum"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+<h2>LITTLE GRANDMOTHER</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>GEORGE WASHINGTON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I believe I will tell you the story of Grandma Parlin's little
+childhood, as nearly as possible in the way I have heard her tell it
+herself to Flyaway Clifford.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Well, then, Grandma Parlin, her face full of wrinkles, lay in bed under
+a red and green patchwork quilt, with her day-cap on. That is, the one
+who was going to be Grandma Parlin some time in the far-off future.</p>
+
+<p>She wouldn't have believed it of herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> now if you had told her. You
+might as well have talked to the four walls. Not that she was deaf: she
+had ears enough; it was only brains she lacked&mdash;being exactly six hours
+old, and not a day over.</p>
+
+<p>This was more than seventy years ago, little reader, for she was born on
+New Year's day, 1800,&mdash;born in a town we will call Perseverance, among
+the hills in Maine, in a large, unpainted house, on the corner of two
+streets, in a bedroom which looked out upon the east.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother, who was, of course, our little Flyaway's great grandmother,
+lay beside her, with a very happy face.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little lamb," said she, "you have come into this strange world
+just as the new century begins; but you haven't the least idea what you
+are undertaking!&mdash;I am going to call this baby Patience," said she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> to
+the nurse; "for if she lives she will have plenty of trouble, and
+perhaps the name will help her bear it better."</p>
+
+<p>And then the good woman lay silent a long while, and prayed in her heart
+that the little one might grow up in the fear of the Lord. She had
+breathed the same wish over her other eight children, and now for this
+ninth little darling what better prayer could be found?</p>
+
+<p>"She's the sweetest little angel picter," said Siller Noonin, smoothing
+baby's dot of a nose; "I guess she's going to take after your side of
+the house, and grow up a regular beauty."</p>
+
+<p>"We won't mind about looks, Priscilla," said Mrs. Lyman, who was
+remarkably handsome still. "'Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but
+the woman that feareth the Lord shall be praised.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, what a hand Mrs. Lyman is for Scripter," thought Siller, as
+she bustled to the fireplace, and began to stir the gruel which was
+boiling on the coals. Then she poured the gruel into a blue bowl,
+tasting it to make sure it was salted properly. Mrs. Lyman kept her eyes
+closed all the while, that she might not see it done, for it was not
+pleasant to know she must use the spoon after Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>The gruel was swallowed, Mrs. Lyman and the baby were both asleep, and
+the nurse had taken out her knitting, when she heard some one step into
+the south entry.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder who that is," thought Siller; "it's my private opinion it's
+somebody come to see the new baby."</p>
+
+<p>She knew it was not one of the family, for the older children had all
+gone to school and taken their dinners, and the two little ones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> were
+spending the day at their aunt Hannah's. Now it was really no particular
+business of Siller Noonin's who was at the door. Squire Lyman was in the
+"fore room," and Betsey Gould, "the help," in the kitchen. Siller was
+not needed to attend to callers; but when she was "out nursing" she
+always liked to know what was going on in every part of the house, and
+was often seen wandering about with her knitting in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>As she stole softly out of the bedroom now, not to waken Mrs. Lyman, she
+heard Mr. Bosworth talking to Squire Lyman, and was just in time to
+catch the words,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The poor General! The doctors couldn't do nothing for him, and he
+died."</p>
+
+<p>"Not <i>our</i> General?" cried Siller, dropping her knitting-work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, George Washington," replied the visitor, solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>Siller leaned back against the open door, too much excited to notice how
+the cold air was rushing into the house. "General Washington! When did
+he die? and what was the matter of him?" gasped she. "Speak low; I
+wouldn't have Mrs. Lyman get hold of it for the world!"</p>
+
+<p>"He died a Saturday night, the fourteenth of last month, of something
+like the croup, as near as I can make out," said Mr. Bosworth.</p>
+
+<p>Squire Lyman shook his head sorrowfully, and put another stick of wood
+on the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Noonin," said he, "will you have the goodness to shut that door?"</p>
+
+<p>Siller shut the door, and walked to the fire with her apron at her eyes.
+"O dear, O dear, how quick the news has come! Only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> a little over a
+fortnight! Here it is a Wednesday. Where was I a Saturday night a
+fortnight ago? O, a settin' up with old Mrs. Gould, and little did I
+think&mdash;Why, I never was so beat! <i>Do</i> you suppose the Britishers will
+come over and go to fighting us again? There never was such a man as
+General Washington! What <i>shall</i> we do without him?"</p>
+
+<p>Siller's voice was pitched very high, but she herself supposed she was
+speaking just above her breath. Mr. Bosworth stamped his snowy boots on
+the husk mat, and was just taking out his silk handkerchief, when
+Siller, who knew what a frightful noise he always made blowing his nose,
+seized his arm and whispered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, we're keeping the house still? I don't know as you know we've got
+sick folks in the bedroom."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As she spoke there was a sudden sharp tinkle of the tea-bell&mdash;Mrs.
+Lyman's bell&mdash;and Priscilla ran back at once to her duty.</p>
+
+<p>"Where have you been?" said Mrs. Lyman, "and what did I hear you say
+about George Washington?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a fire in the lady's mild, blue eyes, which startled
+Priscilla.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been dozing off, ma'am," said she, soothingly. "I hadn't been
+gone more'n a minute; but folks does get the <i>cur'usest</i> notions,
+dreaming like in the daytime."</p>
+
+<p>"There, that will do," said the sweet-voiced lady, with a keen glance at
+the nurse's red eyelids; "you mean well, but the plain truth is always
+safest. You need not try to deceive me, and what is more, you can't do
+it, Priscilla."</p>
+
+<p>Then the nurse had to tell what she had heard, though it was too sad a
+story to come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> to the sick woman's ears; for every man, woman, and child
+in the United States loved the good George Washington, and must grieve
+at the news of his death.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman said nothing, but lay quite still, looking out of the window
+upon the white fields and the bare trees, till the baby began to cry,
+and Siller came to take it away.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless its little heart," said the nurse, holding it against her
+tear-wet cheek; "it's born into this world in a poor time, so it is. No
+wonder it feels bad. Open its eyes and look around. See, Pinky Posy,
+this is a free country now, and has been for over twenty years; but it's
+my private opinion it won't stay so long, for the Father of it is dead
+and gone! O, Mrs. Lyman, what awful times there'll be before this child
+grows up!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't borrow trouble, Priscilla. The world won't stop because one man
+is dead. It is God's world, and it moves."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mrs. Lyman, do you think the United States is going to hold
+together without General Washington?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, to be sure I do; and my baby will find it a great deal better
+place to live in than ever you or I have done; now you mark my words,
+Priscilla."</p>
+
+<p>All the people of Perseverance considered Mrs. Lyman a very wise woman,
+and when she said, "Now you mark my words," it was as good as Elder
+Lovejoy's amen at the end of a sermon. Priscilla wiped her eyes and
+looked consoled. After what Mrs. Lyman had said, she felt perfectly easy
+about the United States.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, baby," said she, "who knows but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> you'll see great times, after
+all, in your day and generation?"</p>
+
+<p>And upon that the baby went to sleep quite peacefully, though without
+ever dreaming of any "great times."</p>
+
+<p>Ah, if Siller could only have guessed what wonderful things that baby
+was really going to see "in her day and generation!" The good woman had
+never heard of a railroad car, or a telegraph wire, or a gaslight. How
+she would have screamed with astonishment if any one had told her that
+Miss Patience would some time go whizzing through the country without
+horses, and with nothing to draw the carriage but a puff of smoke! Or
+that Miss Patience would warm her feet at a hole in the floor (for
+Siller had no idea of our furnaces). Or that Miss Patience's
+grandchildren would write letters to her with lightning (for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> a
+telegraph is almost the same thing as that).</p>
+
+<p>But, no; Siller was only thinking about some cracker toast and a cup of
+tea, and wondering if it was time to set the heel in her stocking. And
+before she had counted off the stitches, the children came home from
+school, and she had more than she could do to keep the house still.</p>
+
+<p>Little Moses, two years old, had to see the new baby, and in a fit of
+indignation almost put her eyes out with his little thumbs; for what
+right had "um naughty sing" in his red cradle?</p>
+
+<p>But Moses soon found he could not help himself; and as "um naughty sing"
+did not seem to mean any harm, he gave up with a good grace.</p>
+
+<p>Days, weeks, and months passed on. Siller Noonin went to other houses
+with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> knitting-work, and Patience cut her teeth on a wooden plate,
+took the whooping-cough, and by that time it was her turn to give up;
+for another baby came to the house, and wanted that same red cradle. It
+was a boy, and his name was Solomon. And after that there was another
+boy by the name of Benjamin; and Benjamin was the only one who never had
+to give up, for he was always the youngest. That made eleven children in
+all: James, John, Rachel, and Dorcas; the twins, Silas and George; and
+then Mary, Moses, Patience, Solomon, and Benjamin.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great deal to be done in the house, for there were two large
+farms, with cattle and sheep, and two men who lived at Squire Lyman's
+and took care of the farms. Milk had to be made into butter and cheese,
+and wool into blankets and gowns, and there was generally only one girl
+in the kitchen to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> help to do all the work. Her name was Betsey Gould,
+and she was strong and willing; and Rachel and Dorcas each did her
+share, and so did even little Mary; but they could not do everything.
+The dear mother of all had to spin and weave, and bake and brew, and
+pray every hour in the day for strength and patience to do her whole
+duty by such a large family.</p>
+
+<p>They were pretty good children, but she did not have so much time to
+attend to them as mothers have in these days, and they did not always
+look as tidy or talk as correctly as you do, my dears. You must not
+expect too much of little folks who lived before the time of railroads,
+in a little country town where there were no Sabbath schools, and hardly
+any news-papers.</p>
+
+<p>It is of Patience Lyman, the one who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> afterwards became Grandma Parlin,
+that I shall have most to say. She was usually called Patty, for short
+(though Patty is really the pet name for Martha instead of Patience),
+and she was, as nearly as I can find out, very much such a child as
+Flyaway Clifford&mdash;with blue eyes, soft light hair, and little feet that
+went dancing everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>And now, if you think you know her well enough, perhaps you would like
+to go to school with her a day or two, about three quarters of a mile
+away from home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SAMPLER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>How do you think she was dressed? In a "petticoat and loose gown." The
+loose gown was a calico jacket that hung about the waist in gathers, and
+the petticoat was a moreen skirt that came down almost to the ankles.
+Then her feet&mdash;I must confess they were bare. Nearly all the little
+children in Perseverance went barefooted in summer.</p>
+
+<p>Patty had been longing for an education ever since she was two years
+old, and at three and a half she was allowed to go to school. All the
+other children had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> taught the alphabet at home, for Mrs. Lyman was
+a very considerate woman, and did not think it fair to trouble a teacher
+with baby-work like that; but this summer she had so much to do, with
+little Benny in her arms and Solly under her feet, that she was only too
+glad to have talkative Patty out of the way.</p>
+
+<p>So, just as the stage-horn was blowing, at half past eight one bright
+June morning, Mary put into the dinner basket an extra saucer pie,
+sweetened with molasses, and walked the little one off to school. What
+school was Patty had no idea. She had heard a great deal about the new
+"mistress," and wondered what sort of a creature she could be. She soon
+found out. Miss Judkins was merely a fine-looking young lady, with a
+tortoise-shell comb in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> her hair, not quite as large as a small
+chaise-top. She looked like other people, and Patty was sadly
+disappointed. There was an hour-glass on the desk full of dripping sand,
+and Patty wanted to shake it to make the sand go out faster, for she
+grew very tired of sitting still so long hearing the children read,
+"Pretty cow, go there and dine." She was afraid to say her letters; but
+after she had said them, was much prouder than the Speaker of the Senate
+after he has made a very eloquent speech. She had nothing more to do,
+and watched the little girls working their samplers. Her sister Mary,
+not yet eight years old, was making a beautiful one, with a flower-pot
+in one corner and a tree and birds in the other, and some lines in the
+middle like these:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<h4>"<span class="smcap">Education.</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Be this Miss Mary's care:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let this her thoughts engage;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be this the business of her youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The comfort of her age."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Patty looked on, and watched Mary's needle going in and out, making
+little red crooks. She did not know the silk letters, and would not have
+understood the verse if she had heard it read; but neither did the big
+sister understand it herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Be <i>this</i> the business of her youth," Mary thought meant the <i>sampler</i>,
+for really that sampler <i>had</i> been the business of her youth ever since
+she had learned to hold a needle, and the tree wasn't done yet, and the
+flowers were flying out of the flower-pot on account of having no stems
+to stand on. Patty was ashamed because she herself had no canvass with
+silk pictures on it to carry out to the "mistress." The more she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+thought about it, the more restless she grew, till before noon she fell
+to crying, and said aloud,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I</i> want to work a <i>sambler</i>; yes, I do."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Judkins told Mary she had better take her home. Patty felt
+disgraced, and cried all the way, she did not really know what for.
+Sometimes she thought it was because the school was such a poor place to
+go to, and then again she thought it was because she wanted to work a
+"sambler." When they got home she did not wait till they were fairly in
+the house, but called out, with a loud voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"O, mamma! She's only a woman! The mistress is only a woman!"</p>
+
+<p>That was all the way she had of telling how cruelly disappointed she
+felt in the school.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman had just put the baby in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> the cradle, and was now rocking
+little Solly, who was crying with a stone bruise in the bottom of his
+foot. Betsey Gould was washing, Dorcas and Rachael were making dresses,
+and the dinner must be put on the table. No wonder tired Mrs. Lyman was
+sorry to see Patty come home crying, or that she laid her pale, tired
+face against Solly's cheek when Patty whined, "Mayn't I work a sambler?"
+and said, in a low tone, as if she were breathing a prayer,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Let patience have her perfect work."</p>
+
+<p>Patty had often heard her poor, overburdened mother make that same
+remark, but had never understood it before. Now she thought it meant,
+"Let my daughter Patience have a sambler to work;" and she cleared the
+clouds off her little face, and went dancing out to see the new
+goslings. Mary, who was thoughtful beyond her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> years, coaxed Solly into
+her arms, and soothed him with a little story, so that her mother could
+go and take up the dinner.</p>
+
+<p>Patty found out next day that she was not to have a sampler; but to
+console her Mary hemmed a large piece of tow and linen cloth, and told
+her she might learn to work on it with colored thread. It was a funny
+looking thing after Patty had scrawled it all over with Greek and
+Hebrew; but it was a wonderful help to the child's feelings.</p>
+
+<p>She was a great pet at school, and grew quite fond of going; but she
+tells Flyaway she does not remember much more that happened, after she
+began that sampler, until the next spring. At that time she was a trifle
+more than four years old.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BROKEN BRIDGE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was early in April, and the travelling was very bad, for the frost
+was just coming out of the ground. Mary, Moses, and the twins attended a
+private school, on the other side of the river, and Patty went with
+them; but they were all rather tired of her company.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, we're afraid she'll get lost in one of the holes," said Moses.
+"Won't you make her stay at home?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman stood before the brick oven, taking out of it some blackened
+cobs which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> had been used for smoking hams, and putting them into a dish
+of water.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing with those cobs?" asked Moses, while Patty caught at
+her mother's skirts, saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I won't lose me in a hole, mamma! Mayn't I go to school?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you what I am doing with the cobs, Moses," said Mrs. Lyman;
+"making pearlash water. I shall soak them a while, and then pour off the
+water into bottles. Cob-coals make the very best of pearlash."</p>
+
+<p>How queer that seems to us! Why didn't Mrs. Lyman send to the store and
+buy soda? Because in those days there was no such thing as soda.</p>
+
+<p>"But as for Patience," said she, "I really don't see, Moses, how I can
+have her stay at home <i>this</i> week. Rachel is weaving,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> Dorcas is
+spinning, and the baby is cutting a tooth. Just now my hands are more
+than full, my son."</p>
+
+<p>Patty was delighted to hear that. It never once occurred to her to feel
+ashamed of being such a trial to everybody. Dorcas tied her hood, pinned
+her yellow blanket over her little shoulders, kissed her good by, and
+off she trotted between Mary and Moses, full of triumph and
+self-importance.</p>
+
+<p>There was only a half-day's school on Saturday, and as the children were
+going home that noon, George said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I call this rather slow getting ahead. Patty creeps like a snail."</p>
+
+<p>"Because her feet are so small," said kind-hearted Mary.</p>
+
+<p>"They are twice as big as common with mud, I am sure," returned George;
+whereupon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> Silas laughed; for whatever either of the twins said, the
+other twin thought it very bright indeed.</p>
+
+<p>"There, don't plague her, Georgie," said Mary, "Moses and I have got as
+much as <i>we</i> can do to get her home. I tell you my arms ache pulling!"</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke a frightful noise was heard,&mdash;not thunder, it was too
+prolonged for that; it was a deep, sullen roar, heard above the wail of
+the wind like the boom of Niagara Falls. Very soon the children saw for
+themselves what it meant. <i>The ice was going out!</i></p>
+
+<p>There was always more or less excitement to these little folks,&mdash;and,
+indeed, to the grown folks too,&mdash;in the going out of the ice, for it
+usually went at a time when you were least expecting it.</p>
+
+<p>This was a glorious sight! The ice was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> very thick and strong, and the
+freshet was hurling it down stream with great force. The blocks were
+white with a crust of snow on top, but they were as blue at heart as a
+bed of violets, and tumbled and crowded one another like an immense
+company of living things. The tide was sending them in between great
+heaps of logs, and the logs were trying to crush them to pieces, while
+they themselves rushed headlong at terrible speed. The sun came out of a
+cloud, and shone on the ice and logs in their mad dance. Then the white
+blocks quivered and sparkled like diamonds, and the twins cried out
+together, "How splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty! pretty!" chimed in little Patty, falling face downwards into a
+mud puddle.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's pretty works," said Moses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> picking her up, and partially
+cleansing her with his gingham pocket-handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo, there!" shouted Mr. Griggs, the toll-gatherer, appearing at the
+door of his small house with both arms above his head. "Children,
+children, stop! Don't you come anigh the bridge for your lives!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it's going off! its going off!" cried the five Lymans in concert.</p>
+
+<p>They forgot to admire any longer the magnificent sight. The ice might be
+glorious in its beauty; but, alas, it was terrible in its strength!</p>
+
+<p>How could they get home? That was the question. They could see their
+father's house in the distance; but how and when were they to reach it?
+It might as well have been up in the moon.</p>
+
+<p>"They can't come after us," wailed Mary, wringing her hands; "'twill be
+days and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> days before they can put a boat into this river."</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" groaned Moses; "we can't sleep on the ground."</p>
+
+<p>"With nothing to eat," added George, who remembered the brick-red Indian
+pudding they were to have had for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be scared, children; go ahead," said Dr. Hilton, from the bank.</p>
+
+<p>"What! Would you have 'em risk their lives?" said the timid
+toll-gatherer. "Look at them blocks crowding up against the piers! Hear
+what a thunder they make! And the logs swimming down in booms! You step
+into our house, children, and my wife and the neighbors, we'll contrive
+to stow you away somewheres."</p>
+
+<p>Crowds of people were collecting on the bank watching the ice go out.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you are in a pretty fix, children,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> said one of the men. "How
+did your folks happen to let you come?"</p>
+
+<p>The Lymans stood dumb and transfixed.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry! Why don't you step lively?" said Dr. Hilton, and two or three
+other men.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay where you are, children," cried Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter from the
+other bank.</p>
+
+<p>"If we could only see father!" said one of the twins. Brave as they both
+thought themselves, the roaring torrent appalled them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a shout from the other end of the bridge as loud and
+shrill as a fog-bell:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Children, come home! George! Silas! Mary? Be quick?"</p>
+
+<p>It was Squire Lyman's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do?" cried Mary, running round and round.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'Twon't do to risk it, neighbor Lyman," screamed the toll-gatherer.</p>
+
+<p>"Children, run! there is time," answered the father, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>It was Mary who called back again, "Yes, father, we'll come."</p>
+
+<p>For the twins did not seem to feel clear what to do. "He knows," thought
+she. "What father tells us to do must be right."</p>
+
+<p>She stepped firmly upon the shaking bridge. For an instant Moses
+hesitated, then followed with Patty; and after him came the twins, with
+their teeth firmly set.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick! quick!" screamed Squire Lyman. "Run for your lives!"</p>
+
+<p>"Run! run!" echoed the people on both banks; but Mr. Griggs's tongue
+clove to the roof of his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The roaring torrent and the high wind together were rocking the bridge
+like a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> cradle. If it had not been for Patty! All the rest could run. It
+seemed as if the mud on the child's shoes had turned to lead. She hung,
+crying and struggling, a dead weight between Moses and Mary, who pulled
+her forward, without letting her little toddling feet touch the ground.</p>
+
+<p>The small procession of five, how eagerly everybody watched it! The poor
+toll-gatherer, if he had had the courage, would have run after the
+children, and snatched them back from their doom. Every looker-on was
+anxious; yet all the anxiety of the multitude could not equal the
+agonizing suspense in that one father's heart. He thought he knew the
+strength of the piers; he thought he could tell how long they would
+stand against the ice; but what if he had made a mistake?</p>
+
+<p>The children did not get on quite as fast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> as he had expected. Every
+moment seemed an age, for they were running for their lives!</p>
+
+<p>It was over at last, the bridge was crossed, the children were safe!</p>
+
+<p>The toll-gatherer, and the other people on the bank, set up a shout; but
+Squire Lyman could not speak. He seized Dr. Potter by the shoulder, and
+sank back against him, almost fainting.</p>
+
+<p>"Papa! O, papa!" cried Patty, whose little heart scarcely beat any
+faster than usual, in spite of all the fuss she had made, "I couldn't
+help but laugh!"</p>
+
+<p>This little speech, so babyish and "Patty-like," brought Squire Lyman to
+himself, and he hugged the silly creature as if she stood for the whole
+five children.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, it was a tough one, I tell you," said Silas.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"O, father," said Moses, "if you knew how we trembled! With that baby to
+pull over, too!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what I thought," said Mary, catching her breath. "I
+though my father knew more than the toll-gatherer, and all the other
+men. But anyway, if he didn't know, I'd have done what he said."</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo for my Polly," said Squire Lyman, wiping his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Just half an hour after this, when they were all safe at home, the
+bridge was snapped in two, and went reeling down stream. Squire Lyman
+closed his eyes and shuddered. Of course no one could help thinking what
+might have happened if the children had been a little later; and
+everybody fell to kissing Patty, for that had long been a family habit
+when any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> feeling came up which was too strong or too deep to be
+expressed.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, in Mrs. Lyman's Sunday evening talk with the children, she
+told them the trust Mary had shown in her father, when he asked her to
+cross the bridge, was just the feeling we should have towards our
+heavenly Father, who is all-wise, and can never make mistakes; and then
+she gave them this verse to learn:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Blessed is the man that maketh the Lord his trust."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Patty forgot the verse very soon; but Mary remembered it as long as she
+lived.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TITHING-MAN</h3>
+
+
+<p>One summer's day, two years or so after this, Moses was half sick with a
+"run-round" on his finger, and consented to go up in the
+spinning-chamber and play with Patty: he never played with girls when he
+was well. Dorcas was at the little flax-wheel spinning linen, and Patty
+was in a corner under the eaves, with her rag babies spread out before
+her,&mdash;quite a family of them. The oldest granddaughter was down with
+brain fever, and she wanted Moses to bleed her. Moses did it with great
+skill. When he practiced medicine, he pursued the same course Dr. Potter
+did, their family physician; he bled and "cupped" Patty's dolls, and
+gave them strong doses of calomel and "jalap."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt="DR. MOSES BLEEDS AND CUPS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">DR. MOSES BLEEDS AND CUPS.&mdash;Page <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dorcas," said Dr. Moses, looking up, with his jackknife in the air,
+"what's a witch?"</p>
+
+<p>"A witch? Why, we call Patty a little witch sometimes when she tangles
+the flax and tries to spin."</p>
+
+<p>"O, I never!" exclaimed Patty, "only just once I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; I mean a real witch," pursued Moses. "You know what I mean.
+Betsey Gould's mother puts Bible leaves under the churn to keep 'em out
+of the butter."</p>
+
+<p>"Bible leaves!" said Dorcas. "How did Mrs. Gould's Bible happen to be
+torn?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know; but she puts horseshoes top o' the door, too," added
+Moses; "you know she does, Dorcas, and lots of other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> folks do it. What
+sort of things are witches? And what makes father and mother laugh about
+'em, when other folks are so afraid?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because father and mother are wiser than most of the people in this
+little town. Perhaps I ought not to say it, Moses, but it's the truth."</p>
+
+<p>It was the truth, and Moses knew it very well. He was only talking to
+amuse himself, and to hear what Dorcas would say. You must remember this
+was more than sixty years ago, and Perseverance was a poor little
+struggling town, shut in among the hills, where the stage came only
+twice a week, and there were only two news-papers, and not very good
+schools. The most intelligent families, such as the Lymans, Potters, and
+Chases, laughed at the idea of witches, but there were some people who
+believed in them, and that very night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> little Patty was to have her head
+filled with strange stories.</p>
+
+<p>You remember Siller Noonin, who was at Squire Lyman's when Patty was
+born? She was a widow, with not much of a home of her own, and was
+always going about from house to house nursing sick people, and doing
+little odds and ends of work. To-day she had dropped in at Squire
+Lyman's to ask if Mrs. Lyman had any more knitting for her to do. In the
+nicely sanded sitting-room, or "fore-room," as most of the people called
+it, sat Dr. Hilton, leaning back upon the settle, trotting his foot. He
+called himself a doctor, though I suppose he did not know much more
+about the human system than little Doctor Moses, up in the
+spinning-chamber. When old ladies were not very well, he advised them to
+take "brandy and cloves, and snakeroot and cinnamon;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> and sometimes, if
+they happened to feel better after it, they thought Dr. Hilton knew a
+great deal.</p>
+
+<p>"You are just the person&mdash;ah, I wanted to see," said Dr. Hilton to
+Priscilla; "I've been all round looking you up."</p>
+
+<p>"Now that's strange, for I was on my way to your house," said Siller,
+putting her hand to her side. "I don't feel well right here, and I
+didn't know but you could tell me of some good bitters to take."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Hilton felt Siller's pulse, looked at her tongue, and then said,
+with a wise roll of the eye, which almost set Rachel to laughing, "I
+would advise you, ma'am&mdash;ah, to get a quart&mdash;ah, of good brandy, and
+steep some cloves in it, and some&mdash;ah,&mdash;some&mdash;ah,&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Snakeroot and cinnamon," chimed in Rachel, looking up from her sewing
+with a very innocent face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now that was exactly what the Doctor was going to say, only he was
+trying to say it very slowly, so that it would sound like something
+remarkable, and he did not like to have the words taken out of his
+mouth. No doctor would have liked it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, young woman," said he rising from the settle in a rage, "if
+you understand medicine better than I do, miss, I'll give up my patients
+to you, and you may take charge of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Beg pardon, sir," said Rachel; "I only wanted to help you. You seemed
+to have forgotten part of your bitters."</p>
+
+<p>It was very rude of Rachel to make sport of the Doctor, even though he
+was only a quack; and her mother told her afterwards she was surprised
+to see she was no more of a lady.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mark my words, Rachel," said Mrs. Lyman, "those who are careless about
+other people's feelings will have very few friends."</p>
+
+<p>Rachel blushed under her mother's glance, and secretly wished she were
+as careful of her words as her sweet sister Dorcas.</p>
+
+<p>But I was going to tell you that Dr. Hilton had been looking for
+Priscilla, because he wished her to go and keep his house a few days
+while his wife was gone on a visit. Siller told Mrs. Lyman she was
+always very lonesome there, because there were no children in the house
+and begged that "the two small girls" might go and stay with her till
+she got a little used to it,&mdash;one night would do.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman very seldom allowed Mary or Patience to be gone over night;
+but to oblige Priscilla, who was always such a good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> friend of the
+children in all their little sicknesses, she consented.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall take them with me to prayer meeting in the evening," said
+Siller.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," replied Mrs. Lyman.</p>
+
+<p>The little girls had never visited at Dr. Hilton's before, and were glad
+to go, but Patty did not know how much it would cost her. The house was
+very nice, and the white sand on the parlor floor was traced in patterns
+of roses and buds as fine as a velvet carpet. On the door-stone, at the
+east side of the house, stood an iron kettle, with flaming red flowers
+growing in it, as bright as those on Mary's sampler. Mary said it seemed
+as if the kettle had been taken off the stove and set out there to cool.</p>
+
+<p>After a nice supper of hot biscuits, honey, cheese, and spice-cake, they
+all started for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> prayer meeting, locking the house behind them; for Dr.
+Hilton had business in the next town, and was to be gone all night.</p>
+
+<p>Patty was not in the habit of sitting remarkably still, even at church
+on the Sabbath; and as for a prayer meeting in a school-house, she had
+never attended one before, and the very idea of it amused her to begin
+with. It was so funny to see grown people in those seats where the
+children sat in the daytime! Patty almost wondered if the minister would
+not call them out in the floor to recite. The services were long, and
+grew very dull. To pass away the time, she kept sliding off the back
+seat, which was much too high for her, and bouncing back again, twisting
+her head around to see who was there, or peeping through her fingers at
+a little boy, who peeped back again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mary whispered to her to sit still, and Siller Noonin shook her head;
+but Patty did not consider Mary worth minding, and had no particular
+respect for Siller. Finally, just at the close of a long prayer, she
+happened to spy Daddy Wiggins, who was sleeping with his mouth open, and
+the sight was too much for Patty: she giggled out-right. It was a very
+faint laugh, hardly louder than the chirp of a cricket; but it reached
+the sharp ears of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man,&mdash;the same one who sat
+in church watching to see if the children behaved well, and he called
+right out in meeting, in a dreadful voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Patience Lyman!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>If he had fired a gun at her head it would not have startled her more.
+It was the first time she had ever been spoken to in public, and she
+sank back in Mary's arms, feeling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> that all was over with her. Other
+little girls had had their names called out, but they were generally
+those whose parents did not take proper care of them,&mdash;rude children,
+and not the sort with whom Patty associated.</p>
+
+<p>O, what would her mother say? Was there any place where she could go and
+hide? Sally Potter would never speak to her again, and Linda Chase would
+think she was a heathen child.</p>
+
+<p>She didn't care whether she ever had any new clothes to wear or not;
+what difference would it make to anybody that lived out in the barn? And
+that was where she meant to live all the rest of her days,&mdash;in one of
+the haymows.</p>
+
+<p>Kind sister Mary kept her arm round the sobbing child, and comforted
+her, as well as she could, by little hugs. The meeting was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> soon over,
+and Patty was relieved to find that she had the use of her feet. So
+crushed as she had been by this terrible blow, she had hardly supposed
+she should be able to walk.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>A WITCH-TALK.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"It was real mean and hateful of Deacon Turner," says Mary, as they went
+back to Dr. Hilton's. "You didn't giggle any, hardly, and he knew you
+didn't mean to. I'll tell father, and he won't like it one bit."</p>
+
+<p>Patty choked back a sob. This was a new way of looking at things, and
+made them seem a little less dreadful. Perhaps she wouldn't stay in the
+barn forever; possibly not more than a year or two.</p>
+
+<p>"Deacon Turner is a very ha'sh man," said Siller; "but if he'd stopped
+to think twice, he wouldn't have spoken out so to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> one of you children;
+for you see your father is about the best friend he's got. He likes to
+keep on the right side of Squire Lyman, and he must have spoke out
+before he thought."</p>
+
+<p>Patty drew a long breath. She began to think the Deacon was the one to
+blame, and she hadn't done any thing so very bad after all, and wouldn't
+live in the barn more than a day or two, if she did as long as that.</p>
+
+<p>She was glad she was not going home to-night to be seen by any of the
+family, especially Rachel. By the time they reached Dr. Hilton's she was
+quite calm, and when Siller asked her if she would like some pancakes
+for breakfast, she danced, and said, "O, yes, ma'am," in her natural
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>But, as Siller said, they were all rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> stirred up, and wouldn't be
+in a hurry about going to bed. Perhaps the blackberry tea they had drunk
+at supper time was too strong for Siller's nerves; at any rate, she felt
+so wide awake that she chose to sit up knitting, with Patty in her lap,
+and did not perceive that both the children were growing sleepy.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely evening, and the bright moon sailing across the blue sky
+set the simple woman to thinking,&mdash;not of the great and good God of whom
+she had been hearing this evening, but, I am ashamed to say, of witches!</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad I've got company," said she, nodding to Mary, "for there's
+kind of a creeping feeling goes over me such shiny nights as this. It's
+just the time for Goody Knowles to be out on a broomstick."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Siller Noonin," exclaimed Mary,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> "<i>you</i> don't believe in such
+foolishness as that! I never knew you did before!"</p>
+
+<p>Siller did not answer, for she suddenly remembered that Mrs. Lyman was
+very particular as to what was said before her children.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, Siller; you don't suppose witches go flying round when the
+moon shines?" asked Mary, curling her lip.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what folks say, child."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I do declare, Siller, I thought <i>you</i> had more sense."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Noonin's black eyes sparkled with anger.</p>
+
+<p>"That's free kind of talk for a little girl that's some related to Sir
+William Phips; that used to be Governor of this Commonwealth of
+Massachusetts," said she.</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard of Mr. Phips."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's nothing strange. He died<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> over a hundred years ago; but
+<i>he</i> didn't make fun of witches, I can tell you. He had 'em chained up
+so they couldn't hurt folks."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurt folks?" said little Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; you know witches have a way of taking various shapes, such as cats
+and dogs, and all sorts of creeturs, and going about doing mischief,"
+said Siller, with a solemn click of her knitting-needles.</p>
+
+<p>Mary's nose went farther up in the air. She had heard plenty about the
+Salem Witchcraft, and knew the stories were all as silly as silly can
+be.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you never hear tell of that Joan of Arc over there to Salem?"
+went on Siller, who knew no more about history than a baby.</p>
+
+<p>"We've heard of <i>Noah's</i> ark," put in Patty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, Joan was a witch, and took the shape of a man, and marched at the
+head of an army, all so grand; but she got found out, and they burnt her
+up. It was fifty years ago or more."</p>
+
+<p>"Beg your pardon, Siller; but it was almost four hundred years ago,"
+said Mary; "and it wasn't in this country either, 'twas in France.
+Mother told me all about it; she read it in a book of history."</p>
+
+<p>Siller looked extremely mortified, and picked up a stitch without
+speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"And besides that," said Mary, "Joan of Arc was a beautiful young girl,
+and not a witch. I know some of the people called her so; but mother
+says they were very foolish and wicked."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I ain't a going to dispute your mother in her opinion of witches;
+she knows twice to my once about books; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> that ain't saying she knows
+everything, Polly Lyman," returned Siller, laying down her knitting in
+her excitement; "and 'twill take more'n your mother to beat me out of my
+seven senses, when I've seen witches with my own naked eyes, and heard
+'em a talking to their gray cats."</p>
+
+<p>"Where? O, where?" cried little Patty.</p>
+
+<p>All the "witch" Siller had ever seen was an Englishwoman by the name of
+Knowles, and the most she ever heard her say to her cat was "Poor
+pussy." But Siller did not like to be laughed at by a little girl like
+Polly Lyman; so she tried to make it appear that she really knew some
+remarkable things.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mary, "I don't see why a gray cat is any worse to talk to
+than a white one: why is it? Mrs. Knowles asked my mother if it was
+having a gray cat that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> made folks call her a witch.&mdash;Siller, Mrs.
+Knowles wasn't the woman you meant, when you said you'd seen a witch?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so&mdash;perhaps not. But what did your mother say when Mrs. Knowles
+asked her that question?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother laughed, and told Mrs. Knowles not to part with her gray
+cat, if it was good to catch mice."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes. I know your mother don't believe any of these things that's
+going; but either Goody Knowles is a witch, or else I am," said Siller,
+her tongue fairly running away with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Siller Noonin, what makes you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, for one thing, she can't shed but three tears, and them out of
+her left eye," said Siller; "that I know to be a fact, for I've watched
+her, and it's a sure sign.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Then Daddy Wiggins, he weighed her once
+against the church Bible, and she was the lightest, and that's another
+sure sign. Moreover, he tried her on the Lord's Prayer, and she couldn't
+go through it straight to save her life. Did you ever mind Goody
+Knowles's face, how it's covered with moles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean those little brown things," cried Patty, "with hair in the
+middle? I've seen 'em lots of times; on her chin, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear. Well, Polly, there never was a witch that didn't have moles
+and warts."</p>
+
+<p>"But what does Mrs. Knowles do that's bad?" says Mary, laughing a
+little, but growing very much interested.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she has been known to bewitch cattle, as perhaps you may have
+heard. Last spring Daddy Wiggins's cows crept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> up the scaffold,&mdash;a thing
+cows never did afore."</p>
+
+<p>"O, but my father laughed about that. He said he guessed if Mr.
+Wiggins's cows had had hay enough, they wouldn't have gone out after
+some more; they'd have staid in the stalls."</p>
+
+<p>"It will do very well for your father to talk," returned Siller, who was
+growing more and more excited. "Of course Goody Knowles wouldn't bewitch
+any of <i>his</i> creeturs; it's only her enemies she injures. And that makes
+me think, children, that it's kind of curious for us to be sitting here
+talking about her. She <i>may</i> be up on the ridge-pole of the house,&mdash;she
+or one of her imps,&mdash;a hearing every word we say."</p>
+
+<p>"O, dear! O, dear!" cried Patty, curling her head under Siller's cape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, child. I was only in fun," said the thoughtless Siller,
+beginning to feel ashamed of herself, for she had not intended to talk
+in this way to the children; "don't lets think any more about it."</p>
+
+<p>And with that she hurried the little girls off to bed; but by this time
+their eyes were pretty wide open, as you may suppose.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A WITCH-FRIGHT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Patty had forgotten all about her deep mortification, and never even
+thought of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark!" whispered she to Mary, "don't you hear 'em walking on the roof
+of the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hear what?" said Mary, sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"Those things Siller calls creeturs&mdash;on broomsticks," returned Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense; go to sleep, child."</p>
+
+<p>Mary was too well instructed to be really afraid of witches; still she
+lay awake an hour or two thinking over what Siller had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> said, and
+hearing her cough drearily in the next chamber. Little Patty was
+sleeping sweetly, but Mary's nerves were quivering, she did not know
+why, and</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All things were full of horror and affright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dreadful even the silence of the night."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>As she lay wishing herself safe at home in her own bed, there was a
+sudden noise outside her window,&mdash;the sound of heavy footsteps. Who
+could be walking there at that time of night? If it was a man, he must
+want to steal. Mary did not for a moment fancy it might be a woman, or a
+"creetur" on a broomstick,&mdash;she was too sensible for that; but you will
+not wonder that, as she heard the footsteps come nearer and nearer, her
+heart almost stopped beating from fright. Siller had not coughed for
+some time, and was very likely asleep. If so, there was no time to be
+lost.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mary sprang out of bed, and ran down stairs, whispering, "Fire! Murder!
+Thieves!"</p>
+
+<p>That wakened Patty, who ran after her, clutching at her night-dress, and
+crying out, "A fief! A fief!"</p>
+
+<p>For she had lost a front tooth the day before, and could not say
+"thief."</p>
+
+<p>It was a wonder they both did not fall headlong, going at such speed.</p>
+
+<p>Siller was in the kitchen, standing in the middle of the floor, with a
+red cloak on, staring straight before her, with a white, scared look.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, children, for mercy's sake!" she whispered, putting her
+handkerchief over Patty's mouth, "we're in a terrible fix! It's either
+thieves or murderers, or else it's witches. Yes, Polly Lyman, witches!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't hear the steps now," said Mary. "O, yes I do, too; yes I do,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>By that time there was a loud knocking.</p>
+
+<p>"It must be witches; thieves wouldn't knock," whispered Siller, tearing
+her back hair. "Hear 'em rattle that door! That was what it meant when I
+saw that black cat, just before sundown, worritting the doctor's dog. I
+thought then it was an imp."</p>
+
+<p>The door continued to rattle, and the children's teeth to chatter; also
+Siller's, all she had left in her head.</p>
+
+<p>"O, if we had a silver bullet," said she, "that would clear 'em out."</p>
+
+<p>Poor little Patty! You may guess at the state of her mind when I tell
+you she was speechless! For almost the first time in her life she was
+too frightened to scream.</p>
+
+<p>The knocking grew louder and louder;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> and Siller, seeing that something
+must be done, and she was the only one to do it, began to behave like a
+woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop shaking so, children," said she, with a sudden show of courage.
+"Keep a stiff upper lip! I've got an idea! It may be flesh and blood
+thieves come after the doctor's chany tea-cups!"</p>
+
+<p>"O, throw them out the window," gasped Mary.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Polly; not while I'm a live woman," replied Siller, who really had
+some sense when she could forget her fear of hobgoblins. "Into the
+hampshire, both of you, and let me button you in."</p>
+
+<p>The "hampshire" was a large cupboard, the lower part of which was half
+filled with boxes and buckets; but the children contrived to squeeze
+themselves into it.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't fair, though," said Mary, putting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> her head out. "I ought to
+help you, Siller. Give me the shovel and tongs, and I will."</p>
+
+<p>Siller only answered by buttoning the hampshire door.</p>
+
+<p>Patty, feeling safer, screamed "Fief!" once more; and Mary gave her a
+shaking, which caused the child to bite her tongue; after which Mary
+hugged and kissed her with the deepest remorse.</p>
+
+<p>Who knew how long either of them had to live? What if the man should
+break down the kitchen door and get into the house? He was knocking
+harder than ever, and had been calling out several times,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Let me in! Why don't you let me in?"</p>
+
+<p>"There, I do declare, that sounds like Dr. Hilton," whispered Mary to
+Patty.</p>
+
+<p>And sure enough, next moment the voice of Siller was heard exclaiming,
+in the utmost surprise,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me, doctor, you don't mean to say that's <i>you</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>It was the most welcome sound that the little prisoners in the
+"hampshire" could possibly have heard. And the laugh, gruff and cracked,
+which came from the doctor's throat, as soon as he got fairly into the
+house, was sweeter than the song of a nightingale.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us out! Let us out!" cried they, knocking to be let out as hard as
+the doctor had knocked to be let in, for Mary was beating the door with
+a bucket of sugar and Patty with a pewter porringer. But Siller was "all
+of a fluster," and it was the doctor himself who opened the hampshire
+doors after the little girls had almost pounded them down.</p>
+
+<p>They were both ashamed to be caught in their night-dresses, and ran up
+stairs as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> fast as they could go, but on the way overheard the doctor
+reproving Siller for giving "those innocent little children such a
+scare." He was not a wise man, by any means, but he had good common
+sense.</p>
+
+<p>"It is lucky my wife don't believe in witches," said he, "for I'm as
+likely to come home late at night as any way, and she'd be in hot water
+half her time."</p>
+
+<p>Next morning the children were very glad to go home, and Mary, though
+she would hardly have said so to any one, could not help thinking she
+should never like Siller Noonin quite so well after this as she had done
+before.</p>
+
+<p>They were climbing the fence to run across the fields, when some one
+said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Patience Lyman!"</p>
+
+<p>It was Deacon Turner, the tithing-man; but his voice was very mild this
+morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> and he did not look like the same man Patty had seen at prayer
+meeting. His face was almost smiling, and he had a double red rose in
+his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, little ladies," said he, giving the rose to Patty, who
+blushed as red as the rose herself, and hung her head in bashful shame.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir," she stammered.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bring myself to believe you meant to disturb the meetin' last
+night," said the deacon, taking her unwilling little hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No, O, no!" replied Patty, with dripping eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in the school-'us, but then the school-'us is just as sacred as
+the meetin'-'us, when it's used for religious purposes. I'm afeared,
+Patience, you forgot you went there to hold communion 'long of His
+saints. I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> afeared your mind warn't in a fit state to receive much
+benefit from the occasion."</p>
+
+<p>Patty felt extremely uncomfortable. Good Deacon Turner seldom took the
+least notice of children&mdash;having none of his own, and no nieces or
+nephews;&mdash;and when he did try to talk to little folks, he always made a
+sad piece of work of it. He did not know how to put himself in sympathy
+with them, and could not remember how he used to feel when he was young.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall always be glad to see you at the regular Wednesday evenin'
+prayer meetin'," said he, "or to the prayer meetin's in the school-'us;
+but you must remember it ain't like a meetin' for seckler pupposes,
+Patience,&mdash;it's for prayer, and praise, and the singing of psalms; and
+you should conduct yourself in a circumspect and becoming manner, as is
+fittin' for the house of worship;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> and remember and feel that it's a
+privilege for you to be there."</p>
+
+<p>This was about the way the deacon talked to Patty, and of course she did
+not understand one word of it. She tells Flyaway Clifford and Dotty
+Dimple that grown people in old times almost always talked "too old,"
+and children were afraid of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my child," added the deacon, "you should realize that it is a
+precious privilege, and feel to say with the Psalmist,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'I joyed when to the house of God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go up, they said to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jerusalem, within thy walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our feet shall standing be.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Patty was crying by this time very loud, and there was a certain babyish
+sound in her wail which suddenly reminded Deacon Turner that he was
+talking to a little girl, and not to a young woman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There, there, now, don't cry," said he, patting her head, for her
+sun-bonnet had fallen back on her neck, "you didn't mean to make fun of
+religion; I'm sartin sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I di-idn't, or if I did, I di-idn't mean to," almost howled Patty.</p>
+
+<p>A grim smile overspread the deacon's face. The idea of an infant like
+that making fun of religion!</p>
+
+<p>"Somehow I was thinkin' you was an older child than what you be," said
+he, rubbing her silky hair as roughly as a plough would go through a bed
+of flowers. The action almost drove Patty wild, but the good man meant
+it most kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's see, I suppose you know your letters now?" added he, going to the
+other extreme, and talking to her as if she were very young indeed.
+"And, of course, your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> mother, who is a godly woman, has you say your
+catechism. Do you remember, my dear, who made you?"</p>
+
+<p>The question caused Patty to raise her tearful eyes in astonishment. Did
+he think a girl six and a half years old didn't know that?</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said she, meekly; "God made me."</p>
+
+<p>"Right, my dear; that's well said. You're not such a bad child after
+all, and seem to have considerable sense. Here is a dollar for you, my
+little woman, and tell your mother I know she's bringing you up in the
+way you should go, and I hope when you are old you'll not depart from
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Patty stared at the dollar through her tears, and it seemed to stare
+back again with a face almost as big as a full moon.</p>
+
+<p>"O, thank you, sir," said she, with a deep courtesy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Never in her life had she owned a whole silver dollar before. How it
+danced and shone! She held it tight, for it did not seem to be real, and
+she was afraid it would melt or fly away before she could get it home.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, O mother," cried she, "see this live dollar! Deacon Turner gave
+it to me for remembering who made me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, child, what do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"She means just what she says, mother," said Mary. "Deacon Turner spoke
+to her in prayer meeting last night&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Patience!"</p>
+
+<p>"And he was sorry for it, mother, just as Siller thought he'd be; and so
+he wanted to give her something to make up, I suppose; but <i>should</i> you
+have thought he'd have given her that dollar?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman was grieved to learn that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> Patty had been so restless and so
+irreverent, and called her into the bedroom to talk with her about it.</p>
+
+<p>"My little girl is old enough to begin to think," said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," said Patty, laying the silver dollar against her cheek,
+"I do think."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Patience, you knew the people had met in that school-house to talk
+about God; you should have listened to what they were saying."</p>
+
+<p>"But, mamma, the words were too big; I can't understand such big words."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, my daughter, you certainly could have sat still, and let
+other people listen."</p>
+
+<p>Patty hung her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Has a child any right to go where good people are worshipping God, and
+behave so badly as to disturb them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, mamma."</p>
+
+<p>Patty was crying again, and almost thought the barn <i>would</i> be the best
+place for her to live in. Even her "live dollar" could not console her
+when her mother spoke in such a tone as that.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll never make any more <i>disturbment</i>, mamma," said she, in a
+broken-hearted tone.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you'll remember it," said Mrs. Lyman, taking the child's two
+hands in hers, and pressing them earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>Patty was afraid she was about to deprive her of the precious dollar;
+but Mrs. Lyman did not do it; she thought Patty would remember without
+such a hard punishment as that.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SILK POCKET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Mrs. Lyman heard what a fright the children had had at Dr. Hilton's
+she was much displeased, and forbade Siller Noonin ever to talk to them
+again about witches. Siller confessed she had done wrong, and "hoped
+Mrs. Lyman wouldn't lay it up against her."</p>
+
+<p>Patty said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Poh, she couldn't scare <span class="smcap">me</span>! I flied on a broomstick my own self, and I
+tumbled off. '<i>Course</i> Mrs. Knowles can't do it; big folks like her!"</p>
+
+<p>At the same time Patty did not like to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> see Mrs. Knowles come to the
+house. It wasn't likely she had ever "flied on a broomstick;" but when
+Mrs. Lyman walked out with the good woman, as she sometimes did, Patty
+was uneasy till she got home again. Nobody suspected the little girl of
+such foolishness, and she never told of it till years after, when she
+was a tall young lady, and did not mind being laughed at for her
+childish ideas.</p>
+
+<p>But perhaps you would like to know what became of her live dollar. She
+did not know what to do with so much money, and talked about it first to
+one and then to another.</p>
+
+<p>"Moses," said she, "which would you ravver do, have me have a hundred
+cents, and you have ninety-nine cents, or me have ninety-nine cents, and
+you have a hundred?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Moses appeared to think hard for a moment, and then said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess I'd rather <i>you'd</i> have the hundred."</p>
+
+<p>"O, would you?" cried Patty, kissing him gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Moses; "for if I had the most, you'd be teasing me for the
+odd cent."</p>
+
+<p>The dollar burnt Patty's fingers. Some days she thought she would give
+it to the heathen, and other days she wondered if it would be wrong to
+spend it for candy. Sometimes she meant to buy a pair of silver
+shoe-buckles for her darling Moses, and then again a vandyke for her
+darling Mary. In short, she could not decide what to do with such a vast
+sum of money.</p>
+
+<p>One day there came to the house a beggar girl, a little image of dirt
+and rags. She told a pitiful story about a dead mother and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> a drunken
+father, and nobody could know that it was quite untrue, and her mother
+was alive, and waiting for her two miles away.</p>
+
+<p>Patty was so much interested in the little girl's story, that she almost
+wanted to give her the silver dollar on the spot, but not quite. She ran
+into the bedroom to ask her mother what it was best to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I thought I fastened that door," cried John, flourishing a
+paint-brush in her face. "Scamper, or you'll get some paint on your
+gown."</p>
+
+<p>Patty scampered, but not before she had stained her dress.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is mother?" asked she of Dorcas.</p>
+
+<p>"In the parlor; but don't go in there, child, for the doctor's wife is
+making a call, and Mrs. Chase, too."</p>
+
+<p>Patty did not wait for Dorcas to finish the sentence, but rushed into
+the parlor, out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> of breath. I am afraid she was rather glad to let the
+doctor's wife know she had some money, and thought of giving it away.
+Patty was not a bold child, but there were times when she did like to
+show off.</p>
+
+<p>"O, mother, mother!" cried she, without stopping to look at the ladies.
+"Let me have my silver dollar this minute! 'Cause there's a poor
+little&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My child," said Mrs. Lyman, in a tone which checked Patty, and made her
+blush to the roots of her yellow hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, let her finish her story," said the doctor's wife, drawing the
+little one to her side; "it's something worth hearing, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a little girl," replied Patty, casting down her eyes, "and her
+mother is dead and her father is drunk."</p>
+
+<p>Patty supposed he lay all the while with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> his hat on, for she had once
+seen a man curled up in a heap by the roadside, and had heard John say
+he was drunk.</p>
+
+<p>"How very sad!" said Mrs. Potter.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Chase looked sorry.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you say the mother is dead?" said she.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm; the man killed her to death with a jug, and then she died,"
+replied Patty, solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the child? Something must be done about it at once," said Mrs.
+Potter, a very kind lady, but apt to speak without much thought. "O,
+Patty, dear, I am glad you have such a good heart. It is beautiful to
+see little children remembering the words of our Saviour, 'It is more
+blessed to give than to receive.'"</p>
+
+<p>Patty's eyes shone with delight. It seemed to her that she was a little
+Lady Bountiful, going about the world taking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> care of the poor. She
+crept closer to Mrs. Potter's side.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't but just one silver dollar," said she, in a low voice; "but
+I'd ravver give it to the little girl than keep it myself, I would!"</p>
+
+<p>"Bless your dear little soul," said the doctor's wife, kissing Patty;
+but Mrs. Chase said nothing; and all at once it occurred to the child
+that perhaps Mrs. Chase had heard of her being spoken to in meeting, and
+that was why she did not praise her. Dreadful thought! It frightened
+Patty so that she covered up her face till both the ladies had gone
+away, for they did not stay much longer.</p>
+
+<p>After the door was closed upon them, Mrs. Lyman said&mdash;,</p>
+
+<p>"Here is your silver dollar, Patty, in my pocket."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Patty fancied that her mother's voice was rather cold. She had expected
+a few words of praise, or at least a kiss and a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"But think a minute, Patience. Are you sure you want to give it away?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty put her fingers in her mouth, and eyed the dollar longingly. How
+large, and round, and bright it looked!</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard you speak yesterday of buying Dorcas a vandyke,&mdash;or
+was it Mary?&mdash;and the day before of getting some shoe-buckles for
+Moses," added Mrs. Lyman, in the same quiet tones. "And only this
+morning your mind was running on a jockey for yourself. Whatever you
+please, dear. Take time to think."</p>
+
+<p>"O, I'd ravver have a jockey. I forgot that&mdash;a white one."</p>
+
+<p>"And what will become of the poor little girl?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"O, I guess Dorcas will give her some <i>remmernants</i> to eat, and folks
+all around will see to her, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"My child, my child, you don't think as you did when those ladies were
+here. Do you remember your last Sunday's verse, and what I said about it
+then?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman's voice was very grave.</p>
+
+<p>Patty repeated the verse,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them;
+otherwise, ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven."</p>
+
+<p>She knew very well what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>"Doing alms before women is just the same as doing 'em before men,"
+thought Patty.</p>
+
+<p>She had been making pretty speeches just for the sake of being praised,
+and she didn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> care so very much about the beggar girl after all.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going out to see that poor child for myself," said Mrs. Lyman,
+putting down the black silk pocket she was making; and Patty followed,
+with her money clasped close to her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>But by that time the dirty-faced little creature had gone away.</p>
+
+<p>"She told wrong stories," said Dorcas; "she said, in the first place,
+her mother was dead, and afterwards that her mother was sick."</p>
+
+<p>"Naughty thing! I'm glad I didn't give her my silver dollar!" exclaimed
+Patty; though she dared not look up, for fear of meeting her mamma's
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Where <i>have</i> you been, child, to get so stained with paint?" said
+Rachel, who always saw things before any one else<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> did. "Come here, and
+let me sponge your gown with spirits of turpentine."</p>
+
+<p>"Strange I shouldn't have noticed that," said Mrs. Lyman. "I hope Mrs.
+Potter didn't spoil her crape shawl when she put her arm round you,
+Patience."</p>
+
+<p>Patty dropped her eyes with shame, to think how pleased Mrs. Potter had
+been with her just for nothing at all.</p>
+
+<p>"Spirits <i>turpletine</i>?" said she, making believe she had never heard the
+word before. "<i>Spirits</i> turpletine? That isn't <i>angels</i>, Rachel? Then
+what makes you call 'em spirits?"</p>
+
+<p>Rachel knew the child was talking for the sake of changing the subject,
+and she would not answer such a foolish question.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand still, you little try-patience," said she, "or I shall never get
+off the paint."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman went back to finish her pocket. Ladies in those days wore
+them under their dresses, tied about their waists. Mrs. Lyman's was a
+very pretty one, of quilted black silk, and when it was done, Patty put
+her dollar in it, and jingled it beside a gold piece of her mother's.</p>
+
+<p>"Which is worth the most, mamma?" said she, "your dollar or my dollar?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mine is worth just twenty times as much as yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm glad that naughty girl hasn't got either of 'em," thought
+Patty. "I'm sorry I made believe <i>good</i>; but I want my dollar, and here
+'tis, all safe."</p>
+
+<p>Safe! Before night Patty's dollar was gone, and her mother's gold piece
+with it,&mdash;pocket, and all. It went that very afternoon; but nobody knew
+it till Mrs. Lyman was getting ready to go to the store two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> days
+afterwards, and wanted her pocket to put on.</p>
+
+<p>When she came into the kitchen and said it was not in her bureau drawer,
+and when Rachel, who always did the hunting, had looked everywhere and
+could not find it, then there was crying in that house, you may be sure.
+Patty said at once the beggar girl had taken the pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"But how could she?" said Dorcas. "She was out of sight and hearing
+before mother began to quilt it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then she came back in the night," sobbed Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say Snippet has put it out of place," said big brother James.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Patty is a great hand to lose things," said Rachel.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no; that <i>niggeramus</i> girl came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> and took it; came in the
+night," persisted Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Patience!" said her mother, reprovingly; and then Patty had to stop.</p>
+
+<p>She mourned only for the silver dollar. She would have mourned for the
+gold piece too, if she had known that her mother intended to buy fall
+clothes with it for the little girls. It was as well Patty did not know
+this, for she had as much already as she could bear.</p>
+
+<p>Priscilla Noonin came over that afternoon with her knitting. "It was
+midsummer, and the hay was down," and there were two men helping get it
+into the barn. One of the men was tall and well formed, but the other,
+Israel Crossman, was so short as to be almost a dwarf. He had yellow and
+white hair, was a little lame, and his hands were covered with warts.
+After supper he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> sat a few minutes on the top of the fence whittling a
+stick. As Siller Noonin stood knitting at the window she saw him, and
+shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Somehow or 'nother," said she, "I don't like the looks of that man, and
+never did. It's my private opinion, Mrs. Lyman, that either he stole
+your pocket or I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful," whispered Mrs. Lyman, "he will hear you."</p>
+
+<p>He might have heard, or might not; but he soon got off the fence and
+limped away.</p>
+
+<p>"Israel bears a good character," said Mrs. Lyman; "I will not suspect
+him, unless I see better reason than I have ever seen yet."</p>
+
+<p>The loss of the silk pocket continued to be a great mystery. Everybody
+hunted for it from garret to cellar; but summer passed, and it did not
+come.</p>
+
+<p>Patty's grief wore away by degrees; still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> she never heard the word
+"pocket" or the word "dollar" without a pang. And every time she saw
+Mrs. Chase or Mrs. Potter, she could not help wondering if her money
+didn't fly away just to punish her for trying to "show off" before them?
+At any rate, she would never, never "show off" again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>PATTY'S SUNDAY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>But we must give up hunting for a little while: Sunday has come. Let us
+forget that "live dollar" (<i>perhaps</i> it's a dead dollar now), and go to
+church with Patty.</p>
+
+<p>When she was "dressed for meeting," she went into the nicely sanded
+parlor and stood alone before the looking-glass a minute or two to
+admire herself. Look at her! She had on a blue cambric frock, and a blue
+cambric jockey, or hat, turned up a little at the sides, and tied under
+the chin with a blue ribbon; and on her little brown hands were a pair
+of white cotton gloves. Don't laugh,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> little city folks! This was all
+very fine, sixty years ago, in a backwoods town. But look at her feet,
+and you <i>must</i> laugh! Her shoes were of the finest red broadcloth, and
+Mrs. Lyman had made them herself out of pieces of her own cloak and some
+soft leather left in the house by Mr. Piper, the shoemaker. He went from
+family to family, making shoes; but he could not make all that were
+needed in town, so this was not the first time Mrs. Lyman had tried her
+hand at the business. She used a pretty last and real shoemaker's
+thread, and Mr. Piper said she was "a dabster at it; no wonder her
+husband was well off when he had such a smart wife."</p>
+
+<p>For, strange as it may seem to you, Squire Lyman <i>was</i> "well off,"&mdash;that
+is, he had one of the best farms in the county, and more money than any
+one else in Perseverance,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> except Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter; those two
+men were much wealthier than he was.</p>
+
+<p>All the Lymans walked to church except the squire and his wife and the
+two little boys; they went in the chaise. Dr. Potter rode horseback,
+with a great show of silk stockings. His wife was propped up behind him
+on a pillion. She was a graceful rider, but of course she had to put one
+arm around the doctor to keep from falling off. This would be an odd
+sight now to you or me, but Patty was so used to seeing ladies riding on
+pillions that she thought nothing about it. She looked down at her red
+shoes twinkling in and out of the green grass, and might have been
+perfectly happy, only the soles wouldn't squeak.</p>
+
+<p>"Patty! Patty!" called sister Mary, "come back here and walk with me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Patty did not know till then that she was <i>hopping</i>. She went and took
+Mary's hand, and walked soberly along, thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope Deacon Turner didn't see me. I guess he's 'way ahead of us. I
+want to run and swing my arms; but I won't, because it is God's holy
+day."</p>
+
+<p>On the way they overtook Sally Potter, whose jockey was dented and
+faded; and Patty said, "Good morning, Sally," with quite an air. But
+when Linda Chase came along, and her new red bosom-pin shone out in the
+sun, Patty's heart died within her.</p>
+
+<p>"S'pose Linda don't know some folks don't like to see little girls wear
+bosom-pins," thought she.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the meeting-house Mrs. Potter was just alighting upon
+a horse-block. "Good morning, Linda," said she; "and how do <i>you</i> do,
+Patty, my dear?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"H'm! She didn't say '<i>Linda</i>, my dear.' Guess she don't like
+bosom-pins," thought Patty; and her silly heart danced up again.</p>
+
+<p>"O, but I know why Mrs. Chase says 'Patty, my dear;' it's because
+I&mdash;well, she s'poses I gave that dollar to the girl that her father was
+drunk."</p>
+
+<p>And I am glad to say Patty blushed.</p>
+
+<p>The meeting-house was an unpainted building with two doors. As they
+walked in at the left door, their feet made a loud sound on the floor,
+which was without a carpet. There were galleries on each side of the
+house, and indeed the pulpit was in a gallery, up, up, ever so high,
+with a sounding-board over the preacher's head. Right in the middle of
+the church was a box stove, but you could see that it was not half large
+enough to heat the house. Of course there was no fire in it now, for it
+was midsummer;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> but in the winter ladies had to carry foot-stoves full
+of live coals to keep their feet warm in their pews.</p>
+
+<p>Squire Lyman's pew was very near the pulpit, and was always pretty well
+filled. Like the rest of the great square boxes,&mdash;for that was what they
+looked like,&mdash;the seat was so high that Patty's scarlet shoes dangled in
+the air ever so far from the floor.</p>
+
+<p>At precisely ten o'clock, Elder Lovejoy walked feebly up the aisle, and
+climbed the pulpit stairs. Patty watched him, as if he had been one of
+Jacob's angels ascending the ladder. He was a tall, thin man, with a
+fair complexion and long features. He wore a large turned-down collar
+and a white neckerchief, stuffed round the throat with what was called a
+pudding, and the ends of the neckerchief were so very long that they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>
+hung half way down his vest. Everybody loved Elder Lovejoy, for he was
+very good; but Patty thought him more than human. He seemed to her very
+far off, and sacred, like King Solomon or King David; and if he had worn
+a crown, she would have considered it very appropriate.</p>
+
+<p>After a long prayer, during which all the people stood up, Elder Lovejoy
+read a long, long psalm, and the people rose again to hear it sung. They
+turned their backs to the pulpit, and faced the singers.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a great surprise to-day. A strange sound mingled with the
+voices singing; it was the sound of a bass-viol. The people looked at
+one another in surprise, and some with frowns on their faces. Never had
+an instrument of music of any sort been brought into that little church
+before; and now it was Deacon Turner's brother, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> blacksmith, who had
+ventured to come there with a fiddle!</p>
+
+<p>Good Elder Lovejoy opened his eyes, and wiped his spectacles, and
+thought something must be done about it; they could not have "dance
+music" in that holy place. Deacon Turner and a great many others thought
+just so too; and at noon they talked to the wicked blacksmith, and put a
+stop to his fiddle.</p>
+
+<p>But nothing of this was done in church time. Elder Lovejoy preached a
+very long sermon, in a painfully sing-song tone; but Patty thought it
+was exactly right; and when she heard a minister preach without the
+sing-song, she knew it must be wrong. She could not understand the
+sermon, but she stretched up her little neck towards the pulpit till it
+ached, thinking,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mamma says I must sit still, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> let other people listen. I
+won't make any <i>disturbment</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman looked at her little daughter with an approving smile, and
+Deacon Turner, that dreadful tithing-man up in the gallery, thought his
+lecture had done that "flighty little creetur" a great deal of good&mdash;or
+else it was his dollar, he did not know which.</p>
+
+<p>Patty sat still for a whole hour and more, counting the brass nails in
+the pews, and the panes of glass in the windows, and keeping her eyes
+away from Daddy Wiggins, who always made her want to laugh. At last the
+sermon was over, and the people had just time enough to go to their
+homes for a cold dinner before afternoon service, which began at one
+o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>Sunday did seem like a long day to little folks; and do you wonder? They
+had no Sabbath school or Sabbath school books;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> and the only part of the
+day which seemed to be made for them was the evening. At that time they
+had to say their catechisms,&mdash;those who had not said them the night
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Did you ever see a Westminster Catechism, with its queer little
+pictures? Then you can have no idea how it looks. After supper Mrs.
+Lyman called the children into her bedroom, shut the door, and had them
+repeat their lessons, beginning with the question, "Who was the first
+man?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty supposed the Catechism was as holy as the Bible, and thought the
+rhyme,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Zaccheus he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did climb a tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Lord to see,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>was fine poetry, of course, and she never dreamed of laughing at the
+picture of dried-up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> little Zaccheus standing on the top of a
+currant-bush.</p>
+
+<p>Little Solly could answer almost all the questions, and sometimes baby
+Benny, who sat in his mamma's lap, would try to do it too. They all
+enjoyed these Sunday evenings in "mother's bedroom," for Mrs. Lyman had
+a very pleasant way of talking with her children, and telling
+interesting Bible stories.</p>
+
+<p>The lesson this evening was on the commandment, "Thou shalt not covet."
+When Patty understood what it meant, she said promptly, "Well, mamma,
+<i>I</i> don't do it."</p>
+
+<p>For she was thinking,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What you s'pose I want of Linda Chase's bosom-pin? I wouldn't be seen
+wearing it!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. CHASE'S BOTTLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>You see Patty knew as much about her own little heart as she did about
+Choctaw.</p>
+
+<p>One Wednesday morning, early in September, Mrs. Lyman stood before the
+kneading trough, with both arms in dough as far as the elbows. In the
+farthest corner of the kitchen sat little Patty, pounding mustard-seed
+in a mortar.</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," said she, "Linda Chase has got a calico gown that'll stand
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I've heard you tell of that before," said Mrs. Lyman, taking out a
+quantity of dough with both hands, putting it on a cabbage-leaf,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> and
+patting it into shape like a large ball of butter. A cabbage-leaf was as
+good as "a skillet," she thought, for a loaf of brown bread.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see a gown stand all alone, mother? Linda says <i>hers</i>
+does."</p>
+
+<p>"Poh, it don't!" said Moses. "I know better."</p>
+
+<p>"Then hers told a lie!" exclaimed little Solly. "George Wash'ton never
+told a lie."</p>
+
+<p>"Linda tells the truth," said Patty; "now, mamma, why don't <i>my</i> gowns
+stand alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to be like George Wash'ton," put in Solly again, pounding with
+the rolling-pin, "and papa's got a hatchet; but we don't have no cherry
+trees. I <i>can't</i> be like George Wash'ton."</p>
+
+<p>"O, what a noise! Stop it!" said Moses, tickling little Solly under the
+arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mamma, I wish I was as rich as Linda," said Patty, raising her voice
+above the din.</p>
+
+<p>A look of pain came into Mrs. Lyman's eyes. It was not alone the
+children's racket that disturbed her. She sighed, and turned round to
+open the door of the brick oven. The oven had been heated long ago, and
+Dorcas had taken out the coals. It was just the time to put in the brown
+bread, and Mrs. Lyman set the cabbage-leaf loaves on the wooden
+bread-shovel, and pushed them in as far as they would go.</p>
+
+<p>After this was done she began to mix pie-crust; but not a word had she
+to say about the gown that would stand alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Patience, you may clean the mortar nicely, and pound me some
+cinnamon."</p>
+
+<p>Patty thought her mother could not know how her little arm ached. Linda
+Chase didn't have to pound things; her mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> thought she was too
+small. Linda's father had a gold watch with a chain to it, and Linda's
+big brother drove two horses, and looked very fine, not at all like
+George and Silas. Patty would not have thought of the difference, only
+she had heard Betsy Gould say that Fred Chase would "turn up his nose at
+the twins' striped shirts."</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," said she, beginning again in that teasing tone so trying to
+mothers, "<i>I</i> have to eat bread and milk and bean porridge, and Linda
+don't. She has nice things all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Patience," said Mrs. Lyman, wearily, "I cannot listen to idle
+complaints. Solomon, put down that porringer and go ask Betsey to wash
+your face."</p>
+
+<p>"But, mamma," said Patty, "why can't I have things like Linda Chase?"</p>
+
+<p>"My little girl must try to be happy in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> the state in which God has
+placed her," said Mrs. Lyman, trimming a pie round the edges.</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't live in a state," said Patty, dropping a tear into the
+cinnamon; "I live in the <i>District</i> of Maine; and I want a gown that'll
+stand alo-ne!"</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"It's half past eight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I can't afford to wait,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>sang Moses from the south entry.</p>
+
+<p>This was a piece of poetry which always aroused Patty. Up she sprang,
+and put on her cape-bonnet to start for school at Mrs. Merrill's, just
+round the corner.</p>
+
+<p>"Daughter," said Mrs. Lyman, in a low voice, as she was going out, "you
+have a happier home than poor Linda Chase. Don't cry for things that
+little girl has, because, my dear, it is wicked."</p>
+
+<p>"A happier home than poor Linda Chase!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Patty was amazed, and did not know what her mother meant; but when she
+got to school there was Linda in a dimity loose-gown, and Linda said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>My</i> mother wants you to come and stay all night with me, if <i>your</i>
+mother's willing."</p>
+
+<p>So Patty went home at noon to ask. Mrs. Lyman never liked to have Patty
+gone over night; but the child pleaded so hard that she gave her
+consent, only Patty must take her knitting-work, and musn't ask to wear
+her Sunday clothes.</p>
+
+<p>When she went home with Linda she found Mrs. Chase sitting by the parlor
+window very grandly dressed. She kissed Patty, without once looking at
+Patty's gingham loose-gown; but her eyes were quite red, as if she had
+been crying.</p>
+
+<p>"I like to have you come to see Linda,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> said she, "for Linda has no
+little sister, and she feels rather lonesome."</p>
+
+<p>Then the children went up stairs to see the wonderful calico gown which
+cost "four and sixpence" a yard, and <i>almost</i> stood alone (that was all
+Linda had ever said it could do).</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chase and Fred were both away from home; and Patty was glad, for Mr.
+Chase was so very polite and stiff, and Fred always talked to her as if
+she was a baby. She did not like to go to see Linda when either of them
+was there.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Chase took both the little girls in her lap, and seemed to enjoy
+hearing their childish prattle. Patty glanced at the gay rings on the
+lady's fingers, and at the pictures on the walls, and wondered why it
+wasn't a happy home, and what made Mrs. Chase's eyes so red. Then all at
+once she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> remembered what Siller Noonin had said: "O, yes, Mrs. Chase
+has everything heart can wish, except a bottle to put her tears in."</p>
+
+<p>Patty did not see why a handkerchief wasn't just as good; but she could
+not help looking at Linda's mother with some curiosity. If she really
+had a strong preference for crying into a bottle, why didn't her rich
+husband buy her a bottle, a glass one, beautifully shaped, with gold
+flowers on it, and let her cry into it just as much as she pleased? He
+was rich, and he ought to.</p>
+
+<p>When they went to bed in the beautiful chamber that had such pretty
+furniture, Mrs. Chase kissed them good night, but not in a happy way,
+like Patty's mother.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes your ma look so?" said Patty; "has she got the side-ache?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I guess not," replied little Linda;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> "but she says she feels bad
+round the heart."</p>
+
+<p>"My ma don't," returned Patty, thoughtfully. "I never heard her say so."</p>
+
+<p>That was the last Patty knew, till ever so long afterwards, right in the
+middle of a dream, she heard a great noise. It was a sound of scuffling,
+and something being dragged up stairs. She saw the glimmer of lights,
+and heard somebody's voice&mdash;she thought it was Mr. Chase's&mdash;say, "Look
+out for his head, George."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" whispered Patty. "O, <i>what</i> is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Linda covered her face with the sheet, and whispered, trembling all
+over,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>guess</i> Freddy's sick."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no," cried Patty; "hear how loud he talks!"</p>
+
+<p>"O, but he's very sick," repeated Linda.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They heard him in the next chamber, kicking against the wall, and saying
+dreadful words, such as Patty had never heard before&mdash;words which made
+her shiver all over as if she was cold.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it 'cause he is sick?" said she to Linda.</p>
+
+<p>Linda thought it was.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, bright and early, Patty had to run home to help Moses turn
+out the cows; there were nine of them, and it took two, besides the dog
+Towler, to get them to pasture. She told her mother what she had heard
+in the night, and her mother looked very sober; but Rachel spoke up
+quickly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you, Patty, what makes Fred Chase have such sick turns; he
+drinks too much brandy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said big brother John; "that fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> keeps a bottle in his room
+the whole time."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it his mamma's bottle?" asked Patty; for it flashed over her all at
+once that perhaps that was the reason Mrs. Chase didn't have a bottle to
+cry into, because Fred kept it up in his room&mdash;full of brandy.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody knew what she meant by asking "if it was his mamma's bottle;" so
+no one answered; but Mrs. Lyman said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Patty, it can't be very pleasant at Linda's house, even if she
+does have calico dresses that stand alone."</p>
+
+<p>"It don't <i>quite</i> stand alone, mamma."</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope you won't cry again, my daughter, for pretty things like
+hers."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I won't mamma.&mdash;Is that why Linda's mother 'feels bad round her
+heart,' 'cause Freddy drinks out of the bottle?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear, it makes Mrs. Chase very unhappy."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm sorry, and I won't ever cry to have things like Linda any
+more."</p>
+
+<p>"That is right, my child; that's right!&mdash;Now, darling, run and help
+Moses turn out the cows."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>MASTER PURPLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I think it was the next winter after this that Patty had that dreadful
+time in school. If she had known what was coming, she would not have
+been in such a hurry for her shoes. Mr. Piper came in the fall, after he
+had got his farm work done, to "shoe-make" for the Lymans, beginning
+with the oldest and going down to the youngest; and he was so long
+getting to Patty that she couldn't wait, and started for school the
+first day in a pair of Moses's boots.</p>
+
+<p>O, dear; but such a school as it was. Timothy Purple was the worst
+teacher that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> ever came to Perseverance. He was very cruel, but he was
+cowardly too; for he punished the helpless little children and let the
+large ones go free. I have no patience with him when I think of it!</p>
+
+<p>The first day of school he marched about the room, pretending to look
+for a nail in the wall to hang the naughtiest scholar on, whether it was
+a boy or a girl. Patty was so frightened that her milk-teeth chattered.
+You little folks who go to pleasant, orderly schools, and receive no
+heavier punishment than black marks in a book, can't have much idea how
+she suffered.</p>
+
+<p>She expected every day after this to see a rope come out of Mr. Purple's
+pocket, and was sure if he hung anybody it would be Patty Lyman. Mr.
+Purple soon found she was afraid of him, and it gratified him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> because
+he was just the sort of man to like to see little ones tremble before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you what," said Moses, indignantly, "he's all the time picking
+upon Patty."</p>
+
+<p>And so he was. He often shook her shoulders, twitched her flying hair,
+or boxed her pretty little ears. Not that he disliked Patty, by any
+means. I suppose a cat does not dislike a mouse, but only torments it
+for the sake of seeing it quiver.</p>
+
+<p>Moses was picked upon too; but he did not make much complaint, for the
+"other fellows" of his age were served in the same way.</p>
+
+<p>As for poor little browbeaten Patty, she went home crying almost every
+night, and her tender mother was sometimes on the point of saying to
+her,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Dear child, you shall not go another day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But she did not say it, for good Mrs. Lyman could not bear to make a
+disturbance. She knew if she should take Patty out of school, other
+parents would take their children out too; for nobody was at all
+satisfied with Mr. Purple, and a great many people said they wished the
+committee had force enough to turn him away.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a storm in the air which nobody dreamed of.</p>
+
+<p>The sun rose one morning just as usual, and Patty started for school at
+half past eight with the rest of the children. You would have pitied her
+if you had been there. The tears were dripping from her seven years old
+eyes like a hail shower. It was very cold, but she didn't mind that
+much, for she had a yellow blanket round her head and shoulders, and
+over those boots of Moses's were drawn a pair of big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> gray stockings,
+which turned up and flopped at the toes. And it wasn't that ridiculous
+goosequill in her hair which made her cry either, though I am sure it
+must have hurt. No; it was the thought of the master, that dreadful man
+with the ferule and the birch sticks.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother stood at the door with a saucer pie in her hand. She knew
+there was nothing Patty liked better.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Patience," said she, in a tone of motherly pity, "here's a pie
+for you. Don't you think now you can go without crying?"</p>
+
+<p>Patience brightened at that, and put the bunch of comfort into Moses's
+dinner pail, along with some doughnuts as big as her arm, and some brown
+bread and sausages.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long way to the school-house, and by the time the children got
+there their feet were numb. There was a great roaring fire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> in the
+enormous fireplace; but it did Patty no good, for this was one of the
+master's "whipping days," and he strode the brick hearth like a savage
+warrior. Where was the <i>little</i> boy or girl brave enough to say,
+"Master, may I go to the fire?"</p>
+
+<p>Poor Patty took out her Ladies' Accidence, and turned over the leaves.
+It was a little book, and the title sounds as if it was full of stories;
+but you must not think Patty would have carried a story book to school!</p>
+
+<p>No; this was a Grammar. In our times little girls scarcely seven years
+old are not made to study such hard things, for their teachers are wise
+enough to know it is of no use. Patty was as good a scholar as any in
+school for her age. Her letters had been boxed into her ears very young
+by Miss Judkins, and now she could read in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> Webster's Third Part as fast
+as a squirrel can run up a tree; but as for grammar, you could put all
+she knew into a doll's thimble. She could not tell a noun from a verb,
+nor could Linda Chase or Sally Potter, if you stood right over them, all
+three, with three birch switches. They all knew long strings of words,
+though, like this:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"A noun is the name of anything that exists, or that we have any notion
+of."</p>
+
+<p>She liked to rattle that off&mdash;Patty did&mdash;or her little nimble tongue,
+her head keeping time to the words.</p>
+
+<p>I wish you had heard her, and seen her too, or that I could give you any
+idea of Mr. Purple's school.</p>
+
+<p>Stop a minute. Shut your eyes, and think you are in
+Perseverance.&mdash;There, do you see that man in a blue swallow-tail coat?
+This is the master. His head runs up to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> peak, like an old-fashioned
+sugar loaf, and blazes like a maple tree in the fall of the year. He
+stands by his desk making a quill pen, and looking about him with sharp
+glances, that seem to cut right and left. Patty almost thinks his head
+is made of eyes, like the head of a fly; and she is sure he has a pair
+in the pockets of his swallow-tail coat.</p>
+
+<p>But it is a great mistake. He does not see a twentieth part of the
+mischief that is going on; and what he does see he dares not take much
+notice of, for he is mortally afraid of the large boys.</p>
+
+<p>There is a great noise in the room of shuffling feet and buzzing lips,
+but he pretends not to hear it.</p>
+
+<p>Up very near the back seat sits Mary Lyman, or Polly, as almost
+everybody calls her, with a blue woolen cape over her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> shoulders, called
+a vandyke, and her hair pulled and tied, and doubled and twisted, and
+then a goosequill shot through it like a skewer.</p>
+
+<p>Behind her, in the very back seat of all, sits Dorcas, the prettiest
+girl in town, with a pale, sweet face, and a wide double frill in the
+neck of her dress.</p>
+
+<p>Patty's future husband, William Parlin, is just across the aisle. He is
+fourteen years old, and you may be sure has never thought yet of
+marrying Patty.</p>
+
+<p>The twins, Silas and George, sit together, pretending to do sums on a
+slate; but, I am sorry to say, they are really making pictures of the
+master. George says "his forehead sneaks away from his face," and on the
+slate he is made to look like an idiot. But the color of his hair cannot
+be painted with a white slate pencil.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I expect every day I shall scream out 'Fire!'" whispered Silas! "Mr.
+Purple's a-fire!"</p>
+
+<p>In the floor stands brother Moses, with a split shingle astride his
+nose, after the fashion of a modern clothes-pin. So much for eating
+beechnuts in school, and peeling them for the little girls; but he and
+Ozem Wiggins nod at each other wisely behind Mr. Purple's back, as much
+as to say, they know what the reason is <i>they</i> have to be punished; it
+is because they are only nine years old; if they were in their teens the
+master wouldn't dare! Ozem has not peeled beechnuts, but he has "called
+names," and has to hold out a hard-wood poker at arm's length. If he
+should curve his elbow in the least, it would get a rap from the
+master's ferule.</p>
+
+<p>"Class in Columbian Orator," says Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> Purple, "take your places out in
+the floor."</p>
+
+<p>A dozen of the large boys and girls march forth, their shoes all
+squeaking as if some of the goosequills had got into the soles.</p>
+
+<p>"Observe!"</p>
+
+<p>You would not understand that, but they know it means, "Make your
+manners;" and the girls obey by quick little courtesies, and the boys by
+stiff little bows.</p>
+
+<p>Most of them say "natur" and "creetur," though duly corrected, and
+Charley Noonin, Siller's nephew, says "wooled" for "would."</p>
+
+<p>Next comes a class in the Art of Reading. The twins are in that.</p>
+
+<p>Then Webster's Third Part, and unhappy little Patty steps out, almost
+crying with chilblains, and has to be shaken because she doesn't stand
+still.</p>
+
+<p>After that some poor little souls try to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> spell out the story of
+"Thrifty and Unthrifty" in Webster's shingle-covered spelling-book.</p>
+
+<p>"Class in Morse's Geography.&mdash;Little lady in that front seat, be
+car-ful! Come out here, Patty Lyman, and stand up by the fireplace. No
+crying."</p>
+
+<p>It is almost a daily habit with Master Purple to call Patty into the
+floor while the geography class recites, and afterwards to give her a
+small whipping, for no other reason in the world than that she cannot
+stand still. William Parlin, who is a manly, large-hearted boy, pities
+the poor little thing, and sometimes darkly hints that he is not going
+to look on much longer and see her abused.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>LITTLE GRANDFATHER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>But let us hear the geography class.</p>
+
+<p>The pupils stay in their seats to recite, while the master walks the
+floor and switches his boots. There is such a fearful uproar to-day that
+he has to raise his voice as if he were speaking a ship in a storm.</p>
+
+<p>"What two rivers unite to form the Ohio?"</p>
+
+<p>"A pint of clover seed and a bushel of <i>Timothy</i>," replies William
+Parlin, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Right," returns Mr. Purple, who has not heard a word, but never
+contradicts William<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> because his father is on the committee.&mdash;"Next:
+Soil of Kentucky?"</p>
+
+<p>"Flat-boats and flat-irons," replies one of the twins, just loud enough
+to set the boys laughing three seats before and behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, <i>ver</i>-y well.&mdash;Less laughing.&mdash;What is the capital? Speak up
+distinctly."</p>
+
+<p>"Capital punishment," responds the other twin, cracking an acorn.</p>
+
+<p>"Correct.&mdash;Next may answer, a <i>little</i> louder: Where is Frankfort?"</p>
+
+<p>And that was the way the lesson went. There had been a great deal more
+noise than usual, and Mr. Purple was almost distracted, for he saw the
+large boys were "in league," and he dared not call them to account.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile active little Patty, who thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> she was standing perfectly
+still, studying that dreadful Ladies' Accidence, had really been
+spinning about on one foot; and just then she darted forward to tear a
+bit of shining bark from a white birch stick in the "ears" of the
+fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>"Master," cried out a mean-spirited boy on the front bench, "Patty's
+pickin' gum off that ar log; I seed her."</p>
+
+<p>Master Purple strode quickly across the room. He had been longing for a
+whole hour to give <i>somebody</i> a terrible whipping; and here was a good
+opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>Of course it was the unmanly little tell-tale he was going to punish?</p>
+
+<p>No, indeed; it was Patty. He seized upon the bewildered little creature
+with the greatest fury.</p>
+
+<p>"Patty Lyman, what do you mean, young woman? Haven't I laid down a rule,
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> how dare you disobey? It was only yesterday I feruled Ozen Wiggins
+for chewing gum."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't," wailed Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"What? Do you contradict me? We'll see about that! Hold out your hand,
+you naughty, wicked child!"</p>
+
+<p>The tone was so fierce, and the clutch on her shoulder hurt her so much,
+that poor Patty screamed fearfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold out your hand!" repeated the master.</p>
+
+<p>Patty gave him her slender baby-palm, poor little creature! while Dorcas
+and Mary, up in the back seats, both drew in their breaths with a
+shudder.</p>
+
+<p>Down came the hard-wood ferule, whizzing through the air like a thing of
+life. No time then to tell Mr. Purple she <i>couldn't</i> have picked gum off
+a hard-wood stick if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> she had tried; he wouldn't have believed her, and
+wouldn't have listened, no matter what she said.</p>
+
+<p>One! two! three! Patty had never been struck like this before. The twins
+looked at each other, and almost rose from their seats. Indignation
+flashed from thirty pairs of eyes, but the master was too excited to see
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Four! five! six! Patty's little figure bent like a broken reed, when
+there was a shuffling of boots in the aisle, and a voice shouted,</p>
+
+<p>"Stop that, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>It was William Parlin's voice. He had sent it on ahead of him, and was
+following after it as fast as he could.</p>
+
+<p>"Let that child alone, Master Purple."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt="LITTLE GRANDFATHER SPEAKS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LITTLE GRANDFATHER SPEAKS.&mdash;Page <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Master Purple was so utterly surprised and confounded that he stood
+stock still, with his ferule high in the air.</p>
+
+<p>In another minute William was at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to let go that little girl's hand, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Master Purple stood and glared.</p>
+
+<p>"She's taken her last ruling, sir. I won't look on and see such small
+children abused, sir. If the committee can't make a fuss about it, I
+will."</p>
+
+<p>You might have heard a pin drop. The whole school held its breath in
+surprise. Master Purple, not knowing what he did, dropped Patty's hand,
+and the sobbing child tried to go to her seat; but, blinded with tears,
+and pain and fright, she mistook the way, and staggered along to the
+fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little thing, don't cry!" said William,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> lowering his voice to the
+gentlest tone; and taking her in his arms he carried her up to the back
+seat, and set her in Dorcas's lap.</p>
+
+<p>It was an action which Patty never forgot. From that moment she loved
+dear William Parlin with all her little heart.</p>
+
+<p>"O, William, do be careful," said Dorcas; for by that time Master Purple
+had come to his senses, and was rushing towards William, brandishing
+that heavy ruler.</p>
+
+<p>But William was too quick for him. Before Master Purple could reach the
+back seat, the boy ran across the benches between the heads of the
+frightened children, and seizing the monstrous tongs, tossed them like a
+feather, exclaiming,</p>
+
+<p>"Stand off, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>What could Mr. Purple do? He was angry enough to tear William in
+pieces;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> but it was not so easy to get at a boy who was armed with a
+pair of tongs.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you?" he cried, choking with rage; "how dare you, young man?
+Are the boys in this school willing to look on and see their teacher
+insulted?"</p>
+
+<p>The boys did seem to be willing. Mr. Purple glanced about the room,
+hoping some one would come to his aid; but no one came. They were all
+against him, and full of admiration for William, though none of them
+would have dared to take William's place.</p>
+
+<p>The little boys liked the excitement, but the little girls thought this
+was the end of the world, and began to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the treatment I am to receive from my school?" exclaimed Master
+Purple, in despair.</p>
+
+<p>The like had never been heard of in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> town of Perseverance that a
+school should rise against its teacher.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going straight to your father to inform him of your conduct," he
+stammered, his face white with wrath.</p>
+
+<p>And seizing his hat, he rushed out of the house, without stopping for
+his cloak.</p>
+
+<p>I will not try to describe the uproar which followed. I will only say
+that William Parlin was afterwards reproved by his father for his rash
+conduct, but not so severely as some people thought he should have been.
+Mr. Purple's red head was never seen in that school-house again. Another
+teacher came to take his place, who was a Christian gentleman, and
+treated the little children like human beings.</p>
+
+<p>No one was more glad of the change than Patty Lyman. The new master came
+to town before her tender palm was quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> healed from the cruel blows;
+and she was the first to see him. But the meeting happened in such a
+queer way, that I shall have to tell you about it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LITTLE DIPPER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Well, mother," said Squire Lyman, one afternoon, "the new teacher has
+got along, and by the looks of him I don't believe he is the man to
+abuse our little girl. Patty, dear, open the cellar door for papa."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lyman's arms were full of hemlock, which he had brought home from
+the woods. Betsy liked it for brooms, and he and his hired men always
+got quantities of it when they were hauling the winter's wood from the
+wood lot.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know the Starbird family very well," replied Mrs. Lyman; "that
+is, I used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> to know this young man's mother, and I presume he is quite
+different from Mr. Purple."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman was sitting before the kitchen fire with the great family
+Bible in her lap; but, instead of reading it, she was winding round it
+some white soft wicking.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mamma, mamma, what are you doing?" exclaimed Patty. "How can papa
+read to-night with the Bible all tied up?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shan't hurt the good book, my dear." And as Mrs. Lyman spoke she cut
+the wicking in two with the shears, and as it fell apart it let out the
+precious volume just as good as ever. Then she took from the table some
+slender sticks, and put on each stick twelve pieces of wicking, giving
+each piece a little twist with her fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"O, now I know," said Moses, who was watching too; "you're a goin' to
+make candles&mdash;going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> to dip those strings in a kettle of something hot.
+Yes, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and there's the kettle," said Patty.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman was very late this year about her candles. She dipped them
+once a year, and always in the afternoon and evening, because there was
+so much, so very much going on in that kitchen in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, please, mamma," said Patty, "let me help."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman tipped two chairs face downward towards the floor,&mdash;"Like
+folks trying to creep," said Patty,&mdash;and laid two long sticks from one
+chair to the other, making a very good fence. Next she set the candle
+rods across the fence, more than a hundred of them in straight rows.</p>
+
+<p>"James," called she, going to the door; and while James was coming she
+laid a large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> plank on the floor right under the candle rods.</p>
+
+<p>"That's to catch the drippings," said the learned Moses; and he was
+right.</p>
+
+<p>Squire Lyman and James came in and lifted the heavy brass kettle from
+the crane, and placed it on a board just in front of the brick hearth,
+not far from the creeping chairs; and then Mrs. Lyman sat down to dip
+candles.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, when she put the pieces of wicking into the kettle
+of hot tallow and took them out again, they looked like greasy strings,
+and nothing else. One after another she dipped them in and drew them
+out, dipped them in and drew them out, and set them carefully back in
+their places across the fence.</p>
+
+<p>Patty and Moses looked on with great Interest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How slow they are!" said Moses. "I've kept count, and you've dipped
+more'n a hundred sticks, and you haven't made one candle yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Rome wasn't built in a day," said Mrs. Lyman, going back to the very
+beginning, and dipping the first row over again.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what Rome is," said Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wouldn't fuss with those strings," observed Moses; "why, this
+makes twice, and they're no bigger round yet than slate pencils."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd let 'em alone," said Patty, "and not try."</p>
+
+<p>"Moses, you might as well run off and see if father wants you," said
+Mrs. Lyman; "and, Patience, I know Dorcas would like some cloves
+pounded."</p>
+
+<p>In about an hour Patty was back again. The candles had grown, but only a
+very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> little. They were no larger yet than <i>lead</i> pencils. And there sat
+Mrs. Lyman with a steady, sober look on her face, as if she had made up
+her mind to wait and let them take their time to grow.</p>
+
+<p>"What slow candles!" cried Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Patience, dear," said Mrs. Lyman, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"There, mamma, you said Patience, but you didn't mean me; you meant the
+<i>good</i> kind of patience."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I meant the patience that works and waits. Now go and wash some
+potatoes for to-morrow's breakfast, and then you may come again and
+look."</p>
+
+<p>"When Patty came the second time, she exclaimed, with delight,</p>
+
+<p>"O, mamma, they're as big round as candy! Wish <i>'twas</i> candy; wouldn't I
+eat?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman began again at the first row.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Why, mamma Lyman, true's you live I can begin to see 'em grow!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," said her mother. "People don't work and wait, all for
+nothing, daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Yankee Doodle came to town," sang Patty, dancing the time to the tune,
+as if she did not hear her mother's words. But she did hear them, and
+was putting them away in her memory, along with a thousand other things
+which had been said to her, and which she had not seemed to hear at the
+time.</p>
+
+<p>I wish Mrs. Lyman could have known this, for she sometimes thought it
+was of no use to talk to Patty. I wish she could have known that years
+afterwards the dancing child would be comforted in many a trouble by
+these cheery words, "People don't work and wait for nothing, daughter."
+For you see it all came back to Patty when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> she was a woman. She saw a
+picture of her good mother dipping candles, with a steady, sober look on
+her face; and that picture always did her good.</p>
+
+<p>I wonder if the little folks, even in these days, don't hear and heed
+more than they appear to? If so, their mammas ought to believe it, and
+take courage.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, why do you pour hot water into that kettle? Won't water <i>put
+out</i> candles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps not; perhaps it will make the tallow rise to the top," said
+Mrs. Lyman, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"O, so it does. Isn't it <i>such</i> fun to dip candles? They grow as fast as
+you can wink. Mayn't I dip, please, mamma?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it," replied Mrs. Lyman, with a quiet smile, "that said, 'I'd
+let 'em alone, and not try?'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"O, but, mamma, that was when they didn't grow, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dear, I'll let you dip in a rod by and by; I can't stop now."</p>
+
+<p>Patty waited, but the "by and by" did not come. Mrs. Lyman seemed to
+have forgotten her promise; and about eight o'clock had to leave the
+candles a few minutes to give Dorcas some advice about the fitting of a
+dress. Dorcas was to take her mother's place; but just as she started
+for the kitchen, there was an outcry from Mary, who had cut her finger,
+and wanted it bound up.</p>
+
+<p>"It's my by-and-by <i>now</i>," thought little Patty.</p>
+
+<p>There was not a soul in the kitchen to attend to those candles. Deary
+me, and the tallow growing so cold! Wasn't it Patty's duty to help?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Of course it was; and seating her little self with much dignity in the
+chair from which her mother had just risen, and propping her feet on the
+round, she took up the business where it was left off. It seemed the
+easiest thing in the world to flash those round white candles into the
+kettle and out again; but they were a great deal heavier than she had
+supposed. After she had dipped two or three rods her arm felt very
+tired. How could mamma do it so fast, without stopping one bit?</p>
+
+<p>A bright thought seized Patty, as bright as all those dozen-dozen
+candles burning in a row.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess I'll dip 'em slow; then there'll be more tallow stick on."</p>
+
+<p>Strange mamma hadn't thought of that herself; but mammas can't think of
+everything, they have so much to do. Patty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> swayed a rod full of candles
+from side to side in the kettle, not perceiving that they were melting
+to their heart's cores. When she took them out they dripped great tears,
+and as she held them up, wondering why they hadn't grown any, the
+kitchen door opened, and some one walked in.</p>
+
+<p>Who it was Patty could not see, for her face was turned away; but what
+if it should be brother James, and he should call out,</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Snippet, up to mischief, hey?"</p>
+
+<p>The very thought of such a speech frightened her so that she set her row
+of candles across the chairs in great haste, hitting them against
+another row, where they stuck fast.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, miss," said a strange voice.</p>
+
+<p>Patty turned her head, and there, instead of James, stood a handsome
+young gentleman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> she had never seen before. She knew at once it must be
+the new teacher.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing she did was to seize a row of candles, hit or miss, and
+dashed them into the kettle.</p>
+
+<p>"Beg pardon. I'm afraid I've come to the wrong door," said the stranger,
+bowing very low, and trying his best not to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"O, no, sir; yes, sir; thank you," replied bewildered Patty, almost
+plunging head first into the kettle. But instead of that she suddenly
+straightened up, and popped in another row of candles.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Starbird was so amused by the little creature's quick and
+kitten-like motions that he stood still and watched her. He thought he
+had never seen so funny a sight before.</p>
+
+<p>"He smiles just as <i>cheerfully</i>," mused Miss Patty, with an airy toss of
+the head. "Guess he thinks I'm smart! Guess he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> thinks he'll put me in
+the C'lumby Norter [Columbian Orator] first thing <i>he</i> does! Big girl
+like this, sitting up so straight, working like a woman!"</p>
+
+<p>With that she rocked forward, and nearly lost her balance; but no harm
+was done; she only pushed the kettle half way off the board.</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman thought it was about time to interfere, and let some of
+the family know what the child was doing.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you please point the way to the parlor, little miss?" said he,
+with a bewitching smile.</p>
+
+<p>Patty slid from her seat, and, in her confusion, was aiming straight for
+the cellar door, when, alas! alas! one of her feet got caught in the
+rounds of the chair, and she tumbled out headlong. In trying to save
+herself, she put forth both hands, and struck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> against the kettle, which
+was already tipsy, and of course turned over.</p>
+
+<p>It was a critical moment. Mr. Starbird saw the kettle coming, and had
+the presence of mind to spring the other way. A flood of hot water and
+tallow was pouring over the floor, and little Patty screaming lustily.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Starbird thought she was scalding to death, and instead of taking
+care of himself, turned about to save her. But before he could reach
+her, she had darted through the bar-room door and disappeared&mdash;without
+so much as a blotch of tallow on her shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Gallant Mr. Starbird did not get off so well. His foot slipped on the
+oily floor, and down he fell. Before he could get up the whole household
+had come to the rescue, Rachel and John bringing tin dippers, and Mrs.
+Lyman a mop; but Dorcas a roll of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> linen, for she knew the stranger must
+be scalded.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to make the best of it, poor man; and while Dorcas was doing up
+both his blistered hands, he smiled on her almost as "cheerfully" as he
+had smiled on the little candle-dipper. He found it very pleasant to
+look at Dorcas. Everybody liked to look at her. She had a rare, sweet
+face, as delicate as a white snowdrop just touched with pink, and she
+did know how to do up sore fingers beautifully; she had practised it on
+every one of the children.</p>
+
+<p>Patty was so sorry and ashamed that she crept to bed in the dark, and
+cried herself to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning that unpainted kitchen floor was a sight to behold, and
+Rachel said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> she did not think it would ever come clean again.</p>
+
+<p>"See what I found in the kettle," said she.</p>
+
+<p>Two rows of little withered candles, all worn out, and crooked besides.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I do that too?" said Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think you did. What mischief will you be up to next?" said
+Rachel, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"But, but, mamma <i>said</i> I might dip."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, so I did," said the much-enduring mother, suddenly
+remembering her own words. "Well, well, Rachel, we won't be too hard on
+Patience. I'll warrant she'll never try this caper again."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. STARBIRD'S DREAM.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Starbird began the school with his hands in mittens; but for all
+that he governed the big boys without the least effort. His blisters
+were so troublesome that he had to go to Squire Lyman's every day to
+have them done up, and in that way Patty grew very well acquainted with
+him. Before spring the whole family felt as if they had always known
+him, and Mrs. Lyman called him Frank, because she and his mother had
+been "girls together." Dorcas did not call him Frank, but they were
+remarkably good friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After the winter school was done, Mr. Starbird still staid at
+Perseverance, studying law with Mr. Chase, and boarding at Squire
+Lyman's. He was a very funny man, always saying and doing strange
+things; and that brings me round at last to Patty's dollar.</p>
+
+<p>One evening Patty was so tired with picking up chips that she went and
+threw herself into her mother's arms, saying, "Why don't the boys stick
+the axe clear through the wood, mamma; then there wouldn't be chips to
+bother folks."</p>
+
+<p>For a wonder Mrs. Lyman was sitting down without any work in her hands,
+and could stop to stroke Patty's hair and kiss her "lips like snips of
+scarlet," which made the little girl happier than anything else in the
+world. Mr. Starbird sat in a large armchair, holding a skein of yarn for
+Dorcas,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> who sat in a small rocking-chair, winding it.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Lyman," said Mr. Starbird, "do you believe in dreams?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I do not," replied Mrs. Lyman. "Why do you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't believe in them myself any more than you do, Mrs. Lyman.
+But I did have such a very singular dream last night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do tell us what it was," said Dorcas.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, if you like," said Mr. Starbird; "but I&mdash;but I don't know
+about it; is it best to speak of such things before Patty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you must, Mr. Starbird," cried Patty, springing up eagerly. "<i>I</i>
+won't tell anybody, long's I live."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Starbird laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, in the first place, Mrs. Lyman, let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> me ask you if you lost any
+money ever so long ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I lost a twenty-dollar gold piece last summer."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and me, too. I had a silver dollar, 'n' I lost it," cried Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"How strange!" said Mr. Starbird. "So my dream does have some sense in
+it. Excuse me, Mrs. Lyman; but will you tell me where you kept the
+money?"</p>
+
+<p>"In my black silk pocket; but the pocket went too."</p>
+
+<p>"And I suppose you have hunted everywhere for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we have," said Dorcas. "I guess you'd think so, Mr. Starbird;
+why, we've turned this house upside down."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure. Well, I'd like to ask another question, Mrs. Lyman. Did you
+ever think that woman that is about here so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> much&mdash;Siller Noonin, I
+believe they call her&mdash;could have taken the money?"</p>
+
+<p>"O, no, indeed, Francis; we consider Priscilla an honest woman."</p>
+
+<p>"That was not what I meant to say, Mrs. Lyman. What I was going to ask
+was this: Wasn't there a funny old man here at the time you lost the
+money? and didn't Siller Noonin say that either he stole the money or
+she did?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; there was a little old man at the house in haying-time, and I
+believe Priscilla did say she thought&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," broke in Dorcas; "and he was sitting out on the fence
+when she said it, and we were afraid he heard; but how did you know
+that, Mr. Starbird? It didn't come to you in your dream?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Miss Dorcas, you are beginning to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> be curious; but when I go on to
+tell you more, you will open your eyes wider yet. I never saw that
+little old man, Mrs. Lyman, and never heard you speak of him; but I
+dreamed I was husking corn in your barn, and a man about as tall as your
+Mary&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Just then Mary, and Moses, and George, and Silas, and John, and Rachel
+came into the room, followed by William Parlin; and Mr. Starbird had to
+begin at the beginning and tell as far as this all over again.</p>
+
+<p>"A man as tall, perhaps, as Mary, with hair the color of pumpkin and
+milk, limped up to me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother, why, Rachel, his hair <i>was</i> all yellow and white," said
+Moses.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so I said," pursued Mr. Starbird. "And there were red rings round
+his eyes, and he had a turn-up nose, and hands all covered with warts."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Starbird, you must have seen Israel Crossman," said Mrs. Lyman, who
+had stopped rocking in her surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Israel Crossman! That was the very name he spoke as he limped into the
+barn. I declare, Mrs. Lyman, this is growing more and more mysterious;
+but I never saw Israel Crossman; I give you my word."</p>
+
+<p>"How very strange!" said Dorcas; "but do make haste and finish, for I am
+getting all of a tremble."</p>
+
+<p>"Me, too," cried Patty, clinging close to her mother's neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the old man sidled along to me, and said he,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm Isr'el Crossman; and look here: me and Squire Lyman's two hired
+men and (I've forgotten the other name) got in hay into this ere barn
+last summer. Squire Lyman's folks used me well; but there's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> one thing
+that's laid heavy on my mind. Mrs. Lyman lost a gold piece while I was
+here&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and me a silver dollar," cried Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"'And it distressed me bad,' said Israel, 'for Siller Noonin up and said
+that either she stole it, or I did. But it's come to me lately,' said
+Israel, 'what must have 'come of that money! I never took it; bless you,
+I never stole a pin! But I see that little Patty to play out in the barn
+with one of her rag babies.'"</p>
+
+<p>"O, I never," exclaimed Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't interrupt," whispered one of the twins, deeply interested.</p>
+
+<p>"You know I am only telling a silly dream, my dear," said Mr. Starbird.
+"This little man said he saw Patty playing on the scaffold before the
+hay was got into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> barn, and she had something round her doll's neck
+that looked like a pocket. He didn't know any more than that; but he
+'sort of mistrusted' that she might have left the doll on the scaffold,
+and the men might have pitched hay right on top of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure enough," exclaimed Dorcas, with a nervous laugh; "who knows but
+she did?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you lost a doll, Patty?" asked William Parlin.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I never."</p>
+
+<p>"O, she doesn't know when she loses dolls," said Rachel; "she always
+keeps more than a dozen or so on hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I was going to say," continued Mr. Starbird, "you could easily
+find out whether there was any meaning to my dream. If there <i>is</i> a doll
+up there on the scaffold, the hay is getting so low you could scrape
+round and find it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's so," cried the twins.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that it's really worth while, either," added Mr. Starbird; "for, as
+I said, it was only&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But there isn't the least harm in going out to see," said Mary and the
+twins, and William Parlin, all in a breath, as they started on a run for
+the barn. Patty slipped down from her mother's arms and followed.</p>
+
+<p>"Me! Me! Let me go first," she cried. And before any one else could do
+it, her swift little feet were mounting the ladder, and next minute
+tripping over the scaffold.</p>
+
+<p>"O, look! O, catch! Here it is! Here is my dolly all up in the corner,
+and here's a pocket round her neck!"</p>
+
+<p>Dorcas, who was always rather nervous, sat on the barn floor and laughed
+and cried herself into such a state that Mr. Starbird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> had to give her
+his arm to help her back to the house.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great time, you may be sure, when Patty shook the pocket
+before everybody's eyes, and James rang the twenty-dollar piece on the
+brick hearth to make sure it was good gold. Dorcas was so excited that
+pink spots came in both her cheeks, and even James did not know what to
+think. Betsey Gould started right off to Dr. Potter's, where Siller
+Noonin happened to be, to tell Siller the story. Dorcas kept having
+little spasms of laughing and crying, and the whole household had rather
+a frightened look; for it was the most marvellous dream they ever heard
+of.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother, what do you think now of dreams?" said Moses. "Guess
+you'll have to give it up."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman had been in her bedroom to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> put the gold piece into her
+drawer, and she now came back and took up her stocking-basket, as if
+nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you to-morrow what I think of dreams, Moses.&mdash;Hush, Patty,
+I am afraid we shall be sorry you found your dollar, if it makes you so
+noisy."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Starbird went up to the table where Mrs. Lyman sat, pretending to be
+looking for the shears, but really to get a peep at the lady's eyes. At
+any rate, he did not go away till he had made her look at him, and then
+they both smiled, and Mrs. Lyman said, in a very low voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Francis, you have kept up the joke long enough."</p>
+
+<p>Frank nodded and went back to the settle.</p>
+
+<p>"James," said he, "you are the wise one of the family; I wish you would
+tell me how you account for my dream."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Can't account for it," said James, shaking his head; "don't pretend
+to."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, if you can't," returned Mr. Starbird, looking very
+innocent, "perhaps you can tell me what day of the month it is?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a general uproar then.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you been making fools of us, Frank Starbird?" cried James and
+Rachel, seizing him, one by the hair, the other by the ears.</p>
+
+<p>"April Fools! April Fools!" exclaimed all the children together,&mdash;all
+except Dorcas.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the best fool I ever heard of," said William Parlin; "but how did
+you do it, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, explain yourself," said James and Rachel. "Was mother in the
+secret?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No; but Dorcas was. Let go my hair, James, and I'll speak.&mdash;Fact is, I
+happened to find that rag baby out there on the scaffold this afternoon
+with that pocket on its neck, and so I dreamed a dream to suit myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Dorcas; "and I told him just how Israel Crossman looked, and
+all about Siller Noonin, and didn't he say it off like a book?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wasn't it a dream, then?" asked little Patty.</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear; it was only nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, I didn't put my dolly out there,&mdash;did I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course you did," said her mother; "only you have forgotten it."</p>
+
+<p>But Patty looked puzzled. She could not recollect that ever so long ago,
+the day the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> beggar girl came to the house, she had cured Polly Dolly
+Adaline's sore throat with her mother's quilted pocket, and then had
+carried the sick dolly out to the barn, "so she could get well faster
+where there wasn't any noise."</p>
+
+<p>No, Patty could not recollect this, and the whole thing was a mystery to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Children," said Mrs. Lyman, looking up from her stockings, as soon as
+there was a chance to speak, "I have one word to say on this subject:
+whenever you hear of signs and wonders, don't believe in them till
+you've sifted them to the bottom. And when you've done that, mark my
+words, you'll find there's no more substance to them than there is to
+Francis Starbird's April Fool Dream."</p>
+
+<p>"True," said Rachel and James; and then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> as half a dozen of the younger
+ones had gone out, they had a quiet talk, five or six of them, round the
+fire, and Patty went to sleep sitting on Mr. Starbird's knee.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>SPINNING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>So Patty had her dollar back; and now what to do with it was the
+question. She thought of a great many things to buy, but always grew
+tired of them before she had fairly made up her mind.</p>
+
+<p>At last she went to her mother, and said, "Mamma, I'm only a little
+girl, and don't know much; won't you please tell me what to get?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really wish me to decide for you, my dear? And will you be
+satisfied with my choice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mamma, I truly will be satisfied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> But&mdash;but&mdash;you don't want to
+give my dollar to the heathens&mdash;do you? It's all clear silver, and I
+s'pect <i>coppers</i> just as good for those heathens, mamma."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think copper is just as good, my child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because that's what people put into the box; and when they put any
+silver in, it's in little bits of pieces. I don't s'pect the heathens
+know the difference."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lyman smiled, though at the same time she was sorry to think how
+selfish people are, and how little they are willing to give away.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me ask you a question, dear. How would you like to have me carry
+this dollar to Mrs. Chase and Mrs. Potter, and tell them my little girl
+sent it for them to give to some poor child?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty looked up in surprise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you are going to give it to a poor child, mamma, can't you do it
+'thout telling folks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I could. I didn't know, though, but you'd like to have Mrs. Potter
+and Mrs. Chase hear of it."</p>
+
+<p>A pink blush crept over Patty's face, and away up to the top of her
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"O, mamma, I don't! I don't!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I believe you, my dear. You have seen a little of the folly of
+trying to show off. And that reminds me&mdash;Yes, I have a very good idea;
+and when your papa goes to Augusta next week, I will send your dollar,
+and have him buy you something you can always keep."</p>
+
+<p>Patty liked the sound of that, and when her father came home from
+Augusta with a little round trunk in his hands, she could hardly wait
+for him to get into the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> He had brought her a little red Bible,
+with clasp covers. It was the first whole Bible she had ever owned. She
+was much pleased, and has kept the little book all these years, though
+its beauty is quite gone by this time. It is very precious to her,
+because these words are on one of the fly-leaves in her dear mother's
+own writing: "Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen
+of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven."</p>
+
+<p>Time passed on, and on, and on. Patty's wrists grew so strong that she
+was trusted to milk a small red cow, though she must still have been
+quite a little girl, for she could not remember which was the cow's
+right side, and had to mark her bag with a piece of chalk. Very soon she
+had two cows to milk, just as Mary and Moses had; and Moses, who was an
+early bird, used to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> wake her from a sound sleep by calling out, "Come,
+come, Patty! Dr. Chase's cows are out! Mary and I have milked! Up, up,
+Patty! Why don't you start?"</p>
+
+<p>Patty thought it was very hard to be called so early in the morning.
+What did she care for Dr. Chase's cows? She was tired of hearing Moses
+talk about them. Poor little creature! She always ran down stairs,
+rubbing her eyes, and her mother comforted her by saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind it. After you have milked your cows and turned them out, you
+may go to bed again, my dear, and have another nap."</p>
+
+<p>Patty always thought she would do it; but after the work was done, she
+was no longer sleepy, and did not wish to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>When she was ten years old, she learned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> to spin cotton. Her mother
+first carded it into rolls, and then Patty "roped" it, and spun it on a
+wheel; but the spindle was so high up that she was obliged to have a
+board to walk back and forth upon. She liked it as well as any other
+work, for she had a "knack" at spinning; but the older she grew, the
+less time she had for play. Her mother, though very kind to her
+children, did not seem to think it made much difference whether they
+played or not. She never praised Patty; but once the little girl
+overheard her telling some ladies that her youngest daughter was a
+"natural worker," and "the smartest child she had." Of course that
+pleased Patty very much, and afterwards she was brisker than ever.</p>
+
+<p>Her stint was three skeins of cotton a day; and sometimes, when she was
+spinning it, Linda Chase would come up in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> chamber and look on.
+Linda could not draw a thread without pulling the cotton all to pieces,
+and it amazed her to see Patty's spindle whirl so fast; for it went at a
+wonderful rate, especially when any one was looking on.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm spinning warp for my new gown," said Patty; "and Rachel is going to
+weave it."</p>
+
+<p>"What color will it be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Blue and copperas, in little checks," replied Patty.</p>
+
+<p>Linda knew what copperas color was,&mdash;it was a dull yellow.</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill only be for me to go to school in," explained Patty. "I shall
+have it for my <i>not-very-best</i>. By and by I'm going to learn how to spin
+linen on that little flax-wheel, and Rachel will weave me some
+table-cloths,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> and sheets, and pillow-cases, just as she does for
+Dorcas. Guess why she weaves them for Dorcas."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I can't guess. Because she wants to, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here&mdash;it's a secret. Dorcas is going to be married by and by, and
+that is the reason Mr. Starbird comes here on that white-faced horse. He
+doesn't come to see the rest of us; he comes to see Dorcas."</p>
+
+<p>Patty stopped her wheel in her eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and you know, when I was a little speck of a girl, I spilled some
+hot tallow over, and burnt his hand; and he says that is the reason he
+is going to marry Dorcas."</p>
+
+<p>"What! because you burnt his hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I don't see why that made him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> like Dorcas," said Patty,
+reflectively; "but that's what he said. And then I shall have eight
+brothers; won't it be nice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Does Betsey Potter know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I told her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I should have thought you might have told me first," said Linda,
+pouting. "I don't like it very well to have you tell me last."</p>
+
+<p>"O, I told Betsey first because she came first. I never heard of it
+myself till this morning," said Patty, innocently.</p>
+
+<p>She was never known to keep a secret twenty-four hours.</p>
+
+<p>The idea of a wedding in the family was perfectly delightful to the
+little girl, and after this she used to watch for Mr. Starbird every
+third week, just as regularly as Dorcas did, and was almost as much
+pleased<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> when she saw him coming on his white-faced horse.</p>
+
+<p>It was so nice to think of having more brothers; for as yet poor Patty
+had only seven!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BRASS KETTLE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There was a great time that year preparing for Thanksgiving. It seemed
+as if the tall clock had never ticked so fast before, nor the full moon
+smiled down from the top of it with such a jolly face.</p>
+
+<p>"It's going to be what you may call a sort of a double Thanksgiving,"
+said Moses.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" asked Patty. "Because there'll be double turkeys and double
+puddings?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Patty Lyman! Don't you remember what's going to happen before
+dinner?"</p>
+
+<p>"O, you mean the wedding! I knew that ever so long ago."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Patty had heard of it the day before.</p>
+
+<p>"Equal to Fourth of July and training-day put together," remarked Moses,
+snatching a handful of raisins out of the bowl Mary held in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Patty, leaving off her spice-pounding long enough to clap
+her hands; "it's splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see how you can say so," said the thoughtful Mary, "when our
+dear sister Dorcas is going 'way off, and never'll live at home any
+more!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know it," responded Patty, looking as serious as she could, for
+Mary was wiping her eyes on her apron. "It's dreadful! O, how bad I
+feel!"</p>
+
+<p>The kitchen was so full you could hardly turn around. Everybody was
+there but Dorcas, and she was finishing off her wedding-dress. Mrs.
+Lyman was stuffing two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> large turkeys; Betsey was making brown bread;
+Moses chopping mince-meat; and those who had nothing else to do were
+talking. Aunt Hannah was there, helping Rachel make the wedding-cake;
+but the trouble was with aunt Hannah that she couldn't come without
+bringing her baby; and there he was, rolling about the floor like a soft
+bundle of yellow flannel&mdash;a nice, fat baby, with a ruffled cap on his
+head. He was named Job, after his father, who had borne that name
+through a long life, and been very patient about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Patty," said Rachel, "I see you've stopped pounding cloves, and I
+wish you'd take care of this baby; he is rolling up towards the molasses
+jug, and will tip it over next thing he does."</p>
+
+<p>Patty had only stopped pounding for half a minute. It seemed to her that
+her right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> hand always had a mortar-pestle in it. She ran now to get
+some playthings for Job&mdash;a string of earthen-ware beads, and a pewter
+plate to hold them when he should break the string; and a squash-shell,
+filled with peas,&mdash;just as good as a rattle, let me tell you. Then she
+sat on the floor, making baby-talk with the little creature, who has
+since that been somebody's grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>Patty always meant well, and now she was really able to help a great
+deal. At ten years old she was quite a tall girl, though what the
+country-folks called rather "slim." Her dress was made of thick cotton
+and woollen goods, all rough with little knobs,&mdash;the same Rachel had
+woven in "blue and copperas checks."</p>
+
+<p>Patty soon tired of amusing Job. She wanted to do something of more
+importance.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think I might chop mince-meat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> instead of you, Moses. There,
+now, you're getting it so fine 'twill be poison."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Hannah heard that and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"That child takes everything in earnest," said she. "I told Moses if he
+got the mince-meat <i>too</i> fine, 'twould be poisonous; but I never saw any
+mince-meat that <i>was</i> too fine&mdash;did you, Rachel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mary," said Mrs. Lyman, "if you please, you may poke up the coals now.
+George, you'll have to move round, and let her get to the oven."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll attend to it myself," said George, rising from his chair, at one
+end of the big fireplace, and stirring the glowing coals in the brick
+oven with the hard-wood "poking-stick."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, if you'll all keep still," said James, "I'll read you something
+from the newspaper."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Moses dropped his chopping-knife, Mary looked frightened, and Patty
+stopped shaking the squash-shell. They knew it would never do to make a
+noise while James was reading.</p>
+
+<p>"My son, my son," pleaded Mrs. Lyman, turning round from her turkey, and
+shaking her darning-needle at him, "you wouldn't try to read in all this
+confusion? Wait till we get a little over our hurry. Go to the
+end-cupboard, and fetch me a couple of good, stout strings; I want these
+turkeys all ready to tie on the nails."</p>
+
+<p>She was going to roast them before the fire. That was the way they
+cooked turkeys in old times.</p>
+
+<p>"And, Betsey," said Mrs. Lyman, "you may as well go to work on the
+doughnuts. Make half a bushel or more."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the <i>riz</i> bread?" said Betsey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should think a dozen loaves would be enough," replied Mrs. Lyman, who
+was now beginning to make a suet pudding.</p>
+
+<p>You see they meant to have plenty of food, for beside their own large
+family, they expected twenty or thirty guests to dinner day after
+to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"O, mother!" exclaimed Mary, "I'm afraid you're not making that pudding
+thick enough. Siller Noonin says the pudding-stick ought to stand
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Priscilla is thinking of the old Connecticut Blue Laws about mush,"
+replied Mrs. Lyman, smiling; "we don't mind the blue laws up here in
+Maine. And this isn't mush, either; it's suet pudding.&mdash;Solomon, my son,
+you may go into the shed-chamber, and bring me a bag of hops; we must
+have some beer starting."</p>
+
+<p>Betsey swung the frying-kettle on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> crane, and had just turned away,
+when the baby crept up, and tipped over sick George's basin of
+pussy-willow and cider, which was steeping in one corner of the
+fireplace. There was no harm done, only Job lost his patience, and
+cried, and for five minutes there was a perfect Bedlam of baby-screams,
+chopping-knives, and mortar-pestles, and in the midst of it, the sound
+of the hired men winnowing grain in the barn.</p>
+
+<p>But there could hardly be too much noise for Patty. I presume she was
+never happier in her life than on the Monday and Tuesday before
+Thanksgiving; but Wednesday came, and it rained in torrents.</p>
+
+<p>"Will they be married if it doesn't clear off?" said she.</p>
+
+<p>"You do ask the funniest questions," replied Rachel. "Just as if Mr.
+Starbird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> would stay away from his own wedding on account of the
+weather!"</p>
+
+<p>It rained all night; but Thursday morning the sun came rushing through
+the clouds, his face all aglow with smiles, and put an end to such
+dismal business. Patty looked out of the window, and watched the clouds
+scampering away to hide, and whispered in her heart to the little birds
+that were left in the maple trees,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"How kind God is to give us a good wedding-day!"</p>
+
+<p>About ten o'clock the guests began to come, and among the first was Mr.
+Starbird. Patty had never seen him look so fine as he did when he stood
+up with her dear sister Dorcas to be married. He wore a blue coat, and a
+beautiful ruffled shirt, and his shoe-buckles&mdash;so Moses said&mdash;were of
+solid silver. Why he needed gloves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> in the house, Patty could not
+imagine; but there they were on his hands,&mdash;white kids at that.</p>
+
+<p>Dorcas was quite as fine as the bridegroom. She had no veil, but her
+high-topped comb sat on her head like a crown, and there was a
+wonderfully rich stomacher of embroidered lace in the neck of her dress.
+Such a dress! It shimmered in the sun like a dove's wings, for it was of
+changeable silk, the costliest affair, Patty thought, that a bride ever
+wore. It was fastened at the back like a little girl's frock, and the
+waist was no longer than the waist of a baby's slip.</p>
+
+<p>Patty took great pride in looking at her beautiful sister, from the top
+of her shell comb to the tips of her white slippers, which were just the
+size of Patty's own.</p>
+
+<p>The ceremony was as long as a common<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> sermon; and it would have been
+longer yet, if Elder Lovejoy had been there to perform it. He was sick,
+and this man, who came in his place, did not speak in a sing-song tone;
+Patty was not sure it was quite right to do without that. He was young
+and diffident. Patty knew he trembled, for she could see his coat-flaps
+shake; and she can see them shake now, every time she thinks of the
+wedding.</p>
+
+<p>There is something else she can see; and, as I don't believe you ever
+heard of such a thing, I must tell you.</p>
+
+<p>After the dinner of turkeys, roast beef, mince pies, apple pies, pumpkin
+pies, plum and suet pudding, doughnuts, cheese, and every other good
+thing you can think of, the children went into the back room for a
+frolic. There were aunt Hannah's three oldest girls, and uncle Joshua's
+four big<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> boys, William Parlin and his sister Love, and a few more.</p>
+
+<p>While they were there, just beginning a game of blindfold, the bride
+came out in her travelling-dress, with her young husband, to say good
+by. Mary fell to crying, the twins had tears in their eyes, and it would
+have been a very sober time, if Rachel had not called out, in her brisk
+way,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"All step round to the sides of the room, and let me have the middle!"</p>
+
+<p>People always minded Rachel; so she had the floor at once, though no one
+could think what she meant to do, when she brought along a big brass
+kettle, the very one in which Patty had dipped those unfortunate
+candles, and set it upon a board, in the middle of the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my friends," said she, courtesying, "you all know I am the oldest
+daughter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> and it isn't fair that my younger sister should be married
+before I am; do you think it is?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; not at all," said uncle Joshua's four boys, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"And I don't see," added Rachel, with another courtesy,&mdash;"I don't see
+how Mr. Starbird happened to make such a strange mistake as to choose
+Dorcas instead of me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Starbird, bowing very low, "I never'll do
+so again."</p>
+
+<p>"But since the deed is done," said Rachel, "and cannot be undone, I
+shall be obliged to dance in the brass kettle. That's what ladies do
+whose younger sisters are married first."</p>
+
+<p>Then, with quite a sober face, she mounted a wooden cricket, stepped
+into the kettle, and began to dance.</p>
+
+<p>There was not room to take many steps;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> but she balanced herself very
+gracefully, and sung, keeping time with her feet.</p>
+
+<p>Rachel was one of the brightest, wittiest young ladies in Perseverance,
+and this performance of hers amused the bride and bridegroom, and
+everybody else but little Patty. Patty took it all in earnest. She had
+never heard before of the funny ceremony of dancing in a brass kettle,
+and wondered if it had anything to do with those candles of hers.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Starbird likes Dorcas better than he does Rachel," thought the
+little girl, "and that was why he asked her to marry him. I should think
+Rachel might know that! She says he made a mistake; but he didn't! If
+Rachel feels so bad, I shouldn't think she would tell of it. Poor Mr.
+Starbird! He'll be so sorry! and Dorcas will be so sorry! O, I wish
+Rachel hadn't told&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Why, Patty, what makes you look so sober?" asked William Parlin. "You
+look as if Master Purple had been feruling you."</p>
+
+<p>But Patty was ashamed to let any one know the trouble in her mind; and
+after the bride and bridegroom had gone, she ran away by herself to cry;
+and that is all she remembers of the wedding.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Is it really grandma Parlin you have been writing about?" says Prudy.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't seem much like it; for here she sits, with her cap and
+spectacles on, knitting a stocking. Please take off your cap, grandma,
+so we can think how you looked when you were a little girl."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Parlin took it off, but it didn't make any difference, for her hair
+was grayer still without the lace.</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't the way, children," said aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> Madge; "you'll have to
+imagine how she looked; or, as Fly would say, you must make believe.
+Touch her hair with gold. There, see how it shines! Take off those
+spectacles; smooth out the wrinkles; make her face as soft as a
+rose-leaf, as soft as your face, Fly; dwindle her figure down, down,
+till she looks about ten years old. Now do you see her? Isn't she
+pretty? How the sparkles come and go in her eyes! Wouldn't you like to
+have a romp with her in the new-mown hay? For she hasn't any more
+rheumatism in her back than a butterfly. Her feet are dancing this
+minute in pink kid slippers with rosettes on them as big as poppies, and
+she wears a white muslinet gown, with a pink calico petticoat. Wasn't
+that the way she was dressed at the wedding, father Parlin?"</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know?" replies grandpa.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> "I don't remember what she had
+on; but she was the spryest, prettiest little girl in town; and she
+hasn't a child&mdash;no, nor a grandchild either&mdash;that begins to be equal to
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Except Flyaway," cries Prudy; "you forget that Flyaway is just like
+her!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>This is not a bad place to leave our friends. I did intend to tell about
+another member of the circle; but I believe I will not, for I may put
+him into another story; that is, if you would like to hear about William
+Parlin,&mdash;I wonder if you would?&mdash;in a book we will call "<span class="smcap">Little
+Grandfather</span>."</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Grandmother, by Sophie May
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+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,3722 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Grandmother, by Sophie May
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Little Grandmother
+
+Author: Sophie May
+
+Release Date: May 18, 2008 [EBook #25507]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE GRANDMOTHER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.--Page 90.]
+
+
+LITTLE PRUDY'S
+
+FLYAWAY SERIES
+
+[Illustration]
+
+LITTLE GRANDMOTHER
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+LEE & SHEPARD, BOSTON.
+
+
+_LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES._
+
+LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.
+
+BY
+
+SOPHIE MAY,
+
+AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES," "DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES," "THE DOCTOR'S
+DAUGHTER," ETC.
+
+_ILLUSTRATED._
+
+BOSTON:
+LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS.
+
+NEW YORK:
+LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM.
+
+1873.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870,
+BY LEE AND SHEPARD,
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
+
+
+
+Electrotyped and Printed at the Establishment of
+W. W. HARDING,
+Philadelphia.
+
+
+    TO
+
+    MY LITTLE CUBAN FRIEND
+
+    _MARIA AROZARENA._
+
+
+_LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES._
+
+TO BE COMPLETED IN SIX VOLS.
+
+    1. LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.
+
+    2. PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.
+
+    3. AUNT MADGE'S STORY.
+
+    4. LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.
+
+    (Others in preparation.)
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAPTER                              PAGE
+
+I. GEORGE WASHINGTON,                  9
+
+II. THE SAMPLER,                      24
+
+III. THE BROKEN BRIDGE,               31
+
+IV. THE TITHING-MAN,                  44
+
+V. A WITCH-TALK,                      56
+
+VI. A WITCH-FRIGHT,                   67
+
+VII. THE SILK POCKET,                 83
+
+VIII. PATTY'S SUNDAY,                 99
+
+IX. MRS. CHASE'S BOTTLE,             110
+
+X. MASTER PURPLE,                    122
+
+XI. LITTLE GRANDFATHER,              134
+
+XII. THE LITTLE DIPPER,              144
+
+XIII. MR. STARBIRD'S DREAM,          160
+
+XIV. SPINNING,                       176
+
+XV. THE BRASS KETTLE,                186
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE GRANDMOTHER
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+GEORGE WASHINGTON.
+
+
+I believe I will tell you the story of Grandma Parlin's little
+childhood, as nearly as possible in the way I have heard her tell it
+herself to Flyaway Clifford.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Well, then, Grandma Parlin, her face full of wrinkles, lay in bed under
+a red and green patchwork quilt, with her day-cap on. That is, the one
+who was going to be Grandma Parlin some time in the far-off future.
+
+She wouldn't have believed it of herself now if you had told her. You
+might as well have talked to the four walls. Not that she was deaf: she
+had ears enough; it was only brains she lacked--being exactly six hours
+old, and not a day over.
+
+This was more than seventy years ago, little reader, for she was born on
+New Year's day, 1800,--born in a town we will call Perseverance, among
+the hills in Maine, in a large, unpainted house, on the corner of two
+streets, in a bedroom which looked out upon the east.
+
+Her mother, who was, of course, our little Flyaway's great grandmother,
+lay beside her, with a very happy face.
+
+"Poor little lamb," said she, "you have come into this strange world
+just as the new century begins; but you haven't the least idea what you
+are undertaking!--I am going to call this baby Patience," said she to
+the nurse; "for if she lives she will have plenty of trouble, and
+perhaps the name will help her bear it better."
+
+And then the good woman lay silent a long while, and prayed in her heart
+that the little one might grow up in the fear of the Lord. She had
+breathed the same wish over her other eight children, and now for this
+ninth little darling what better prayer could be found?
+
+"She's the sweetest little angel picter," said Siller Noonin, smoothing
+baby's dot of a nose; "I guess she's going to take after your side of
+the house, and grow up a regular beauty."
+
+"We won't mind about looks, Priscilla," said Mrs. Lyman, who was
+remarkably handsome still. "'Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but
+the woman that feareth the Lord shall be praised.'"
+
+"Well, well, what a hand Mrs. Lyman is for Scripter," thought Siller, as
+she bustled to the fireplace, and began to stir the gruel which was
+boiling on the coals. Then she poured the gruel into a blue bowl,
+tasting it to make sure it was salted properly. Mrs. Lyman kept her eyes
+closed all the while, that she might not see it done, for it was not
+pleasant to know she must use the spoon after Priscilla.
+
+The gruel was swallowed, Mrs. Lyman and the baby were both asleep, and
+the nurse had taken out her knitting, when she heard some one step into
+the south entry.
+
+"I wonder who that is," thought Siller; "it's my private opinion it's
+somebody come to see the new baby."
+
+She knew it was not one of the family, for the older children had all
+gone to school and taken their dinners, and the two little ones were
+spending the day at their aunt Hannah's. Now it was really no particular
+business of Siller Noonin's who was at the door. Squire Lyman was in the
+"fore room," and Betsey Gould, "the help," in the kitchen. Siller was
+not needed to attend to callers; but when she was "out nursing" she
+always liked to know what was going on in every part of the house, and
+was often seen wandering about with her knitting in her hands.
+
+As she stole softly out of the bedroom now, not to waken Mrs. Lyman, she
+heard Mr. Bosworth talking to Squire Lyman, and was just in time to
+catch the words,--
+
+"The poor General! The doctors couldn't do nothing for him, and he
+died."
+
+"Not _our_ General?" cried Siller, dropping her knitting-work.
+
+"Yes, George Washington," replied the visitor, solemnly.
+
+Siller leaned back against the open door, too much excited to notice how
+the cold air was rushing into the house. "General Washington! When did
+he die? and what was the matter of him?" gasped she. "Speak low; I
+wouldn't have Mrs. Lyman get hold of it for the world!"
+
+"He died a Saturday night, the fourteenth of last month, of something
+like the croup, as near as I can make out," said Mr. Bosworth.
+
+Squire Lyman shook his head sorrowfully, and put another stick of wood
+on the fire.
+
+"Mrs. Noonin," said he, "will you have the goodness to shut that door?"
+
+Siller shut the door, and walked to the fire with her apron at her eyes.
+"O dear, O dear, how quick the news has come! Only a little over a
+fortnight! Here it is a Wednesday. Where was I a Saturday night a
+fortnight ago? O, a settin' up with old Mrs. Gould, and little did I
+think--Why, I never was so beat! _Do_ you suppose the Britishers will
+come over and go to fighting us again? There never was such a man as
+General Washington! What _shall_ we do without him?"
+
+Siller's voice was pitched very high, but she herself supposed she was
+speaking just above her breath. Mr. Bosworth stamped his snowy boots on
+the husk mat, and was just taking out his silk handkerchief, when
+Siller, who knew what a frightful noise he always made blowing his nose,
+seized his arm and whispered,--
+
+"Hush, we're keeping the house still? I don't know as you know we've got
+sick folks in the bedroom."
+
+As she spoke there was a sudden sharp tinkle of the tea-bell--Mrs.
+Lyman's bell--and Priscilla ran back at once to her duty.
+
+"Where have you been?" said Mrs. Lyman, "and what did I hear you say
+about George Washington?"
+
+There was a fire in the lady's mild, blue eyes, which startled
+Priscilla.
+
+"You've been dozing off, ma'am," said she, soothingly. "I hadn't been
+gone more'n a minute; but folks does get the _cur'usest_ notions,
+dreaming like in the daytime."
+
+"There, that will do," said the sweet-voiced lady, with a keen glance at
+the nurse's red eyelids; "you mean well, but the plain truth is always
+safest. You need not try to deceive me, and what is more, you can't do
+it, Priscilla."
+
+Then the nurse had to tell what she had heard, though it was too sad a
+story to come to the sick woman's ears; for every man, woman, and child
+in the United States loved the good George Washington, and must grieve
+at the news of his death.
+
+Mrs. Lyman said nothing, but lay quite still, looking out of the window
+upon the white fields and the bare trees, till the baby began to cry,
+and Siller came to take it away.
+
+"Bless its little heart," said the nurse, holding it against her
+tear-wet cheek; "it's born into this world in a poor time, so it is. No
+wonder it feels bad. Open its eyes and look around. See, Pinky Posy,
+this is a free country now, and has been for over twenty years; but it's
+my private opinion it won't stay so long, for the Father of it is dead
+and gone! O, Mrs. Lyman, what awful times there'll be before this child
+grows up!"
+
+"Don't borrow trouble, Priscilla. The world won't stop because one man
+is dead. It is God's world, and it moves."
+
+"But, Mrs. Lyman, do you think the United States is going to hold
+together without General Washington?"
+
+"Yes, to be sure I do; and my baby will find it a great deal better
+place to live in than ever you or I have done; now you mark my words,
+Priscilla."
+
+All the people of Perseverance considered Mrs. Lyman a very wise woman,
+and when she said, "Now you mark my words," it was as good as Elder
+Lovejoy's amen at the end of a sermon. Priscilla wiped her eyes and
+looked consoled. After what Mrs. Lyman had said, she felt perfectly easy
+about the United States.
+
+"Well, baby," said she, "who knows but you'll see great times, after
+all, in your day and generation?"
+
+And upon that the baby went to sleep quite peacefully, though without
+ever dreaming of any "great times."
+
+Ah, if Siller could only have guessed what wonderful things that baby
+was really going to see "in her day and generation!" The good woman had
+never heard of a railroad car, or a telegraph wire, or a gaslight. How
+she would have screamed with astonishment if any one had told her that
+Miss Patience would some time go whizzing through the country without
+horses, and with nothing to draw the carriage but a puff of smoke! Or
+that Miss Patience would warm her feet at a hole in the floor (for
+Siller had no idea of our furnaces). Or that Miss Patience's
+grandchildren would write letters to her with lightning (for a
+telegraph is almost the same thing as that).
+
+But, no; Siller was only thinking about some cracker toast and a cup of
+tea, and wondering if it was time to set the heel in her stocking. And
+before she had counted off the stitches, the children came home from
+school, and she had more than she could do to keep the house still.
+
+Little Moses, two years old, had to see the new baby, and in a fit of
+indignation almost put her eyes out with his little thumbs; for what
+right had "um naughty sing" in his red cradle?
+
+But Moses soon found he could not help himself; and as "um naughty sing"
+did not seem to mean any harm, he gave up with a good grace.
+
+Days, weeks, and months passed on. Siller Noonin went to other houses
+with her knitting-work, and Patience cut her teeth on a wooden plate,
+took the whooping-cough, and by that time it was her turn to give up;
+for another baby came to the house, and wanted that same red cradle. It
+was a boy, and his name was Solomon. And after that there was another
+boy by the name of Benjamin; and Benjamin was the only one who never had
+to give up, for he was always the youngest. That made eleven children in
+all: James, John, Rachel, and Dorcas; the twins, Silas and George; and
+then Mary, Moses, Patience, Solomon, and Benjamin.
+
+There was a great deal to be done in the house, for there were two large
+farms, with cattle and sheep, and two men who lived at Squire Lyman's
+and took care of the farms. Milk had to be made into butter and cheese,
+and wool into blankets and gowns, and there was generally only one girl
+in the kitchen to help to do all the work. Her name was Betsey Gould,
+and she was strong and willing; and Rachel and Dorcas each did her
+share, and so did even little Mary; but they could not do everything.
+The dear mother of all had to spin and weave, and bake and brew, and
+pray every hour in the day for strength and patience to do her whole
+duty by such a large family.
+
+They were pretty good children, but she did not have so much time to
+attend to them as mothers have in these days, and they did not always
+look as tidy or talk as correctly as you do, my dears. You must not
+expect too much of little folks who lived before the time of railroads,
+in a little country town where there were no Sabbath schools, and hardly
+any news-papers.
+
+It is of Patience Lyman, the one who afterwards became Grandma Parlin,
+that I shall have most to say. She was usually called Patty, for short
+(though Patty is really the pet name for Martha instead of Patience),
+and she was, as nearly as I can find out, very much such a child as
+Flyaway Clifford--with blue eyes, soft light hair, and little feet that
+went dancing everywhere.
+
+And now, if you think you know her well enough, perhaps you would like
+to go to school with her a day or two, about three quarters of a mile
+away from home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE SAMPLER.
+
+
+How do you think she was dressed? In a "petticoat and loose gown." The
+loose gown was a calico jacket that hung about the waist in gathers, and
+the petticoat was a moreen skirt that came down almost to the ankles.
+Then her feet--I must confess they were bare. Nearly all the little
+children in Perseverance went barefooted in summer.
+
+Patty had been longing for an education ever since she was two years
+old, and at three and a half she was allowed to go to school. All the
+other children had been taught the alphabet at home, for Mrs. Lyman was
+a very considerate woman, and did not think it fair to trouble a teacher
+with baby-work like that; but this summer she had so much to do, with
+little Benny in her arms and Solly under her feet, that she was only too
+glad to have talkative Patty out of the way.
+
+So, just as the stage-horn was blowing, at half past eight one bright
+June morning, Mary put into the dinner basket an extra saucer pie,
+sweetened with molasses, and walked the little one off to school. What
+school was Patty had no idea. She had heard a great deal about the new
+"mistress," and wondered what sort of a creature she could be. She soon
+found out. Miss Judkins was merely a fine-looking young lady, with a
+tortoise-shell comb in her hair, not quite as large as a small
+chaise-top. She looked like other people, and Patty was sadly
+disappointed. There was an hour-glass on the desk full of dripping sand,
+and Patty wanted to shake it to make the sand go out faster, for she
+grew very tired of sitting still so long hearing the children read,
+"Pretty cow, go there and dine." She was afraid to say her letters; but
+after she had said them, was much prouder than the Speaker of the Senate
+after he has made a very eloquent speech. She had nothing more to do,
+and watched the little girls working their samplers. Her sister Mary,
+not yet eight years old, was making a beautiful one, with a flower-pot
+in one corner and a tree and birds in the other, and some lines in the
+middle like these:--
+
+"EDUCATION.
+
+    "Be this Miss Mary's care:
+      Let this her thoughts engage;
+    Be this the business of her youth,
+      The comfort of her age."
+
+Patty looked on, and watched Mary's needle going in and out, making
+little red crooks. She did not know the silk letters, and would not have
+understood the verse if she had heard it read; but neither did the big
+sister understand it herself.
+
+"Be _this_ the business of her youth," Mary thought meant the _sampler_,
+for really that sampler _had_ been the business of her youth ever since
+she had learned to hold a needle, and the tree wasn't done yet, and the
+flowers were flying out of the flower-pot on account of having no stems
+to stand on. Patty was ashamed because she herself had no canvass with
+silk pictures on it to carry out to the "mistress." The more she
+thought about it, the more restless she grew, till before noon she fell
+to crying, and said aloud,--
+
+"_I_ want to work a _sambler_; yes, I do."
+
+Miss Judkins told Mary she had better take her home. Patty felt
+disgraced, and cried all the way, she did not really know what for.
+Sometimes she thought it was because the school was such a poor place to
+go to, and then again she thought it was because she wanted to work a
+"sambler." When they got home she did not wait till they were fairly in
+the house, but called out, with a loud voice,--
+
+"O, mamma! She's only a woman! The mistress is only a woman!"
+
+That was all the way she had of telling how cruelly disappointed she
+felt in the school.
+
+Mrs. Lyman had just put the baby in the cradle, and was now rocking
+little Solly, who was crying with a stone bruise in the bottom of his
+foot. Betsey Gould was washing, Dorcas and Rachael were making dresses,
+and the dinner must be put on the table. No wonder tired Mrs. Lyman was
+sorry to see Patty come home crying, or that she laid her pale, tired
+face against Solly's cheek when Patty whined, "Mayn't I work a sambler?"
+and said, in a low tone, as if she were breathing a prayer,--
+
+"Let patience have her perfect work."
+
+Patty had often heard her poor, overburdened mother make that same
+remark, but had never understood it before. Now she thought it meant,
+"Let my daughter Patience have a sambler to work;" and she cleared the
+clouds off her little face, and went dancing out to see the new
+goslings. Mary, who was thoughtful beyond her years, coaxed Solly into
+her arms, and soothed him with a little story, so that her mother could
+go and take up the dinner.
+
+Patty found out next day that she was not to have a sampler; but to
+console her Mary hemmed a large piece of tow and linen cloth, and told
+her she might learn to work on it with colored thread. It was a funny
+looking thing after Patty had scrawled it all over with Greek and
+Hebrew; but it was a wonderful help to the child's feelings.
+
+She was a great pet at school, and grew quite fond of going; but she
+tells Flyaway she does not remember much more that happened, after she
+began that sampler, until the next spring. At that time she was a trifle
+more than four years old.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE BROKEN BRIDGE.
+
+
+It was early in April, and the travelling was very bad, for the frost
+was just coming out of the ground. Mary, Moses, and the twins attended a
+private school, on the other side of the river, and Patty went with
+them; but they were all rather tired of her company.
+
+"Mother, we're afraid she'll get lost in one of the holes," said Moses.
+"Won't you make her stay at home?"
+
+Mrs. Lyman stood before the brick oven, taking out of it some blackened
+cobs which had been used for smoking hams, and putting them into a dish
+of water.
+
+"What are you doing with those cobs?" asked Moses, while Patty caught at
+her mother's skirts, saying,--
+
+"I won't lose me in a hole, mamma! Mayn't I go to school?"
+
+"I will tell you what I am doing with the cobs, Moses," said Mrs. Lyman;
+"making pearlash water. I shall soak them a while, and then pour off the
+water into bottles. Cob-coals make the very best of pearlash."
+
+How queer that seems to us! Why didn't Mrs. Lyman send to the store and
+buy soda? Because in those days there was no such thing as soda.
+
+"But as for Patience," said she, "I really don't see, Moses, how I can
+have her stay at home _this_ week. Rachel is weaving, Dorcas is
+spinning, and the baby is cutting a tooth. Just now my hands are more
+than full, my son."
+
+Patty was delighted to hear that. It never once occurred to her to feel
+ashamed of being such a trial to everybody. Dorcas tied her hood, pinned
+her yellow blanket over her little shoulders, kissed her good by, and
+off she trotted between Mary and Moses, full of triumph and
+self-importance.
+
+There was only a half-day's school on Saturday, and as the children were
+going home that noon, George said,--
+
+"I call this rather slow getting ahead. Patty creeps like a snail."
+
+"Because her feet are so small," said kind-hearted Mary.
+
+"They are twice as big as common with mud, I am sure," returned George;
+whereupon Silas laughed; for whatever either of the twins said, the
+other twin thought it very bright indeed.
+
+"There, don't plague her, Georgie," said Mary, "Moses and I have got as
+much as _we_ can do to get her home. I tell you my arms ache pulling!"
+
+As she spoke a frightful noise was heard,--not thunder, it was too
+prolonged for that; it was a deep, sullen roar, heard above the wail of
+the wind like the boom of Niagara Falls. Very soon the children saw for
+themselves what it meant. _The ice was going out!_
+
+There was always more or less excitement to these little folks,--and,
+indeed, to the grown folks too,--in the going out of the ice, for it
+usually went at a time when you were least expecting it.
+
+This was a glorious sight! The ice was very thick and strong, and the
+freshet was hurling it down stream with great force. The blocks were
+white with a crust of snow on top, but they were as blue at heart as a
+bed of violets, and tumbled and crowded one another like an immense
+company of living things. The tide was sending them in between great
+heaps of logs, and the logs were trying to crush them to pieces, while
+they themselves rushed headlong at terrible speed. The sun came out of a
+cloud, and shone on the ice and logs in their mad dance. Then the white
+blocks quivered and sparkled like diamonds, and the twins cried out
+together, "How splendid!"
+
+"Pretty! pretty!" chimed in little Patty, falling face downwards into a
+mud puddle.
+
+"Well, that's pretty works," said Moses, picking her up, and partially
+cleansing her with his gingham pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"Hallo, there!" shouted Mr. Griggs, the toll-gatherer, appearing at the
+door of his small house with both arms above his head. "Children,
+children, stop! Don't you come anigh the bridge for your lives!"
+
+"Oh, it's going off! its going off!" cried the five Lymans in concert.
+
+They forgot to admire any longer the magnificent sight. The ice might be
+glorious in its beauty; but, alas, it was terrible in its strength!
+
+How could they get home? That was the question. They could see their
+father's house in the distance; but how and when were they to reach it?
+It might as well have been up in the moon.
+
+"They can't come after us," wailed Mary, wringing her hands; "'twill be
+days and days before they can put a boat into this river."
+
+"What shall we do?" groaned Moses; "we can't sleep on the ground."
+
+"With nothing to eat," added George, who remembered the brick-red Indian
+pudding they were to have had for dinner.
+
+"Don't be scared, children; go ahead," said Dr. Hilton, from the bank.
+
+"What! Would you have 'em risk their lives?" said the timid
+toll-gatherer. "Look at them blocks crowding up against the piers! Hear
+what a thunder they make! And the logs swimming down in booms! You step
+into our house, children, and my wife and the neighbors, we'll contrive
+to stow you away somewheres."
+
+Crowds of people were collecting on the bank watching the ice go out.
+
+"Well, you are in a pretty fix, children," said one of the men. "How
+did your folks happen to let you come?"
+
+The Lymans stood dumb and transfixed.
+
+"Hurry! Why don't you step lively?" said Dr. Hilton, and two or three
+other men.
+
+"Stay where you are, children," cried Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter from the
+other bank.
+
+"If we could only see father!" said one of the twins. Brave as they both
+thought themselves, the roaring torrent appalled them.
+
+Suddenly there was a shout from the other end of the bridge as loud and
+shrill as a fog-bell:--
+
+"Children, come home! George! Silas! Mary? Be quick?"
+
+It was Squire Lyman's voice.
+
+"What shall we do?" cried Mary, running round and round.
+
+"'Twon't do to risk it, neighbor Lyman," screamed the toll-gatherer.
+
+"Children, run! there is time," answered the father, hoarsely.
+
+It was Mary who called back again, "Yes, father, we'll come."
+
+For the twins did not seem to feel clear what to do. "He knows," thought
+she. "What father tells us to do must be right."
+
+She stepped firmly upon the shaking bridge. For an instant Moses
+hesitated, then followed with Patty; and after him came the twins, with
+their teeth firmly set.
+
+"Quick! quick!" screamed Squire Lyman. "Run for your lives!"
+
+"Run! run!" echoed the people on both banks; but Mr. Griggs's tongue
+clove to the roof of his mouth.
+
+The roaring torrent and the high wind together were rocking the bridge
+like a cradle. If it had not been for Patty! All the rest could run. It
+seemed as if the mud on the child's shoes had turned to lead. She hung,
+crying and struggling, a dead weight between Moses and Mary, who pulled
+her forward, without letting her little toddling feet touch the ground.
+
+The small procession of five, how eagerly everybody watched it! The poor
+toll-gatherer, if he had had the courage, would have run after the
+children, and snatched them back from their doom. Every looker-on was
+anxious; yet all the anxiety of the multitude could not equal the
+agonizing suspense in that one father's heart. He thought he knew the
+strength of the piers; he thought he could tell how long they would
+stand against the ice; but what if he had made a mistake?
+
+The children did not get on quite as fast as he had expected. Every
+moment seemed an age, for they were running for their lives!
+
+It was over at last, the bridge was crossed, the children were safe!
+
+The toll-gatherer, and the other people on the bank, set up a shout; but
+Squire Lyman could not speak. He seized Dr. Potter by the shoulder, and
+sank back against him, almost fainting.
+
+"Papa! O, papa!" cried Patty, whose little heart scarcely beat any
+faster than usual, in spite of all the fuss she had made, "I couldn't
+help but laugh!"
+
+This little speech, so babyish and "Patty-like," brought Squire Lyman to
+himself, and he hugged the silly creature as if she stood for the whole
+five children.
+
+"Father, it was a tough one, I tell you," said Silas.
+
+"O, father," said Moses, "if you knew how we trembled! With that baby to
+pull over, too!"
+
+"I'll tell you what I thought," said Mary, catching her breath. "I
+though my father knew more than the toll-gatherer, and all the other
+men. But anyway, if he didn't know, I'd have done what he said."
+
+"Bravo for my Polly," said Squire Lyman, wiping his eyes.
+
+Just half an hour after this, when they were all safe at home, the
+bridge was snapped in two, and went reeling down stream. Squire Lyman
+closed his eyes and shuddered. Of course no one could help thinking what
+might have happened if the children had been a little later; and
+everybody fell to kissing Patty, for that had long been a family habit
+when any feeling came up which was too strong or too deep to be
+expressed.
+
+The next day, in Mrs. Lyman's Sunday evening talk with the children, she
+told them the trust Mary had shown in her father, when he asked her to
+cross the bridge, was just the feeling we should have towards our
+heavenly Father, who is all-wise, and can never make mistakes; and then
+she gave them this verse to learn:--
+
+    "Blessed is the man that maketh the Lord his trust."
+
+Patty forgot the verse very soon; but Mary remembered it as long as she
+lived.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE TITHING-MAN
+
+
+One summer's day, two years or so after this, Moses was half sick with a
+"run-round" on his finger, and consented to go up in the
+spinning-chamber and play with Patty: he never played with girls when he
+was well. Dorcas was at the little flax-wheel spinning linen, and Patty
+was in a corner under the eaves, with her rag babies spread out before
+her,--quite a family of them. The oldest granddaughter was down with
+brain fever, and she wanted Moses to bleed her. Moses did it with great
+skill. When he practiced medicine, he pursued the same course Dr. Potter
+did, their family physician; he bled and "cupped" Patty's dolls, and
+gave them strong doses of calomel and "jalap."
+
+[Illustration: DR. MOSES BLEEDS AND CUPS.--Page 45.]
+
+"Dorcas," said Dr. Moses, looking up, with his jackknife in the air,
+"what's a witch?"
+
+"A witch? Why, we call Patty a little witch sometimes when she tangles
+the flax and tries to spin."
+
+"O, I never!" exclaimed Patty, "only just once I--"
+
+"No, no; I mean a real witch," pursued Moses. "You know what I mean.
+Betsey Gould's mother puts Bible leaves under the churn to keep 'em out
+of the butter."
+
+"Bible leaves!" said Dorcas. "How did Mrs. Gould's Bible happen to be
+torn?"
+
+"I don't know; but she puts horseshoes top o' the door, too," added
+Moses; "you know she does, Dorcas, and lots of other folks do it. What
+sort of things are witches? And what makes father and mother laugh about
+'em, when other folks are so afraid?"
+
+"Because father and mother are wiser than most of the people in this
+little town. Perhaps I ought not to say it, Moses, but it's the truth."
+
+It was the truth, and Moses knew it very well. He was only talking to
+amuse himself, and to hear what Dorcas would say. You must remember this
+was more than sixty years ago, and Perseverance was a poor little
+struggling town, shut in among the hills, where the stage came only
+twice a week, and there were only two news-papers, and not very good
+schools. The most intelligent families, such as the Lymans, Potters, and
+Chases, laughed at the idea of witches, but there were some people who
+believed in them, and that very night little Patty was to have her head
+filled with strange stories.
+
+You remember Siller Noonin, who was at Squire Lyman's when Patty was
+born? She was a widow, with not much of a home of her own, and was
+always going about from house to house nursing sick people, and doing
+little odds and ends of work. To-day she had dropped in at Squire
+Lyman's to ask if Mrs. Lyman had any more knitting for her to do. In the
+nicely sanded sitting-room, or "fore-room," as most of the people called
+it, sat Dr. Hilton, leaning back upon the settle, trotting his foot. He
+called himself a doctor, though I suppose he did not know much more
+about the human system than little Doctor Moses, up in the
+spinning-chamber. When old ladies were not very well, he advised them to
+take "brandy and cloves, and snakeroot and cinnamon;" and sometimes, if
+they happened to feel better after it, they thought Dr. Hilton knew a
+great deal.
+
+"You are just the person--ah, I wanted to see," said Dr. Hilton to
+Priscilla; "I've been all round looking you up."
+
+"Now that's strange, for I was on my way to your house," said Siller,
+putting her hand to her side. "I don't feel well right here, and I
+didn't know but you could tell me of some good bitters to take."
+
+Dr. Hilton felt Siller's pulse, looked at her tongue, and then said,
+with a wise roll of the eye, which almost set Rachel to laughing, "I
+would advise you, ma'am--ah, to get a quart--ah, of good brandy, and
+steep some cloves in it, and some--ah,--some--ah,--"
+
+"Snakeroot and cinnamon," chimed in Rachel, looking up from her sewing
+with a very innocent face.
+
+Now that was exactly what the Doctor was going to say, only he was
+trying to say it very slowly, so that it would sound like something
+remarkable, and he did not like to have the words taken out of his
+mouth. No doctor would have liked it.
+
+"Well, well, young woman," said he rising from the settle in a rage, "if
+you understand medicine better than I do, miss, I'll give up my patients
+to you, and you may take charge of 'em."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir," said Rachel; "I only wanted to help you. You seemed
+to have forgotten part of your bitters."
+
+It was very rude of Rachel to make sport of the Doctor, even though he
+was only a quack; and her mother told her afterwards she was surprised
+to see she was no more of a lady.
+
+"Mark my words, Rachel," said Mrs. Lyman, "those who are careless about
+other people's feelings will have very few friends."
+
+Rachel blushed under her mother's glance, and secretly wished she were
+as careful of her words as her sweet sister Dorcas.
+
+But I was going to tell you that Dr. Hilton had been looking for
+Priscilla, because he wished her to go and keep his house a few days
+while his wife was gone on a visit. Siller told Mrs. Lyman she was
+always very lonesome there, because there were no children in the house
+and begged that "the two small girls" might go and stay with her till
+she got a little used to it,--one night would do.
+
+Mrs. Lyman very seldom allowed Mary or Patience to be gone over night;
+but to oblige Priscilla, who was always such a good friend of the
+children in all their little sicknesses, she consented.
+
+"I shall take them with me to prayer meeting in the evening," said
+Siller.
+
+"Very well," replied Mrs. Lyman.
+
+The little girls had never visited at Dr. Hilton's before, and were glad
+to go, but Patty did not know how much it would cost her. The house was
+very nice, and the white sand on the parlor floor was traced in patterns
+of roses and buds as fine as a velvet carpet. On the door-stone, at the
+east side of the house, stood an iron kettle, with flaming red flowers
+growing in it, as bright as those on Mary's sampler. Mary said it seemed
+as if the kettle had been taken off the stove and set out there to cool.
+
+After a nice supper of hot biscuits, honey, cheese, and spice-cake, they
+all started for prayer meeting, locking the house behind them; for Dr.
+Hilton had business in the next town, and was to be gone all night.
+
+Patty was not in the habit of sitting remarkably still, even at church
+on the Sabbath; and as for a prayer meeting in a school-house, she had
+never attended one before, and the very idea of it amused her to begin
+with. It was so funny to see grown people in those seats where the
+children sat in the daytime! Patty almost wondered if the minister would
+not call them out in the floor to recite. The services were long, and
+grew very dull. To pass away the time, she kept sliding off the back
+seat, which was much too high for her, and bouncing back again, twisting
+her head around to see who was there, or peeping through her fingers at
+a little boy, who peeped back again.
+
+Mary whispered to her to sit still, and Siller Noonin shook her head;
+but Patty did not consider Mary worth minding, and had no particular
+respect for Siller. Finally, just at the close of a long prayer, she
+happened to spy Daddy Wiggins, who was sleeping with his mouth open, and
+the sight was too much for Patty: she giggled out-right. It was a very
+faint laugh, hardly louder than the chirp of a cricket; but it reached
+the sharp ears of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man,--the same one who sat
+in church watching to see if the children behaved well, and he called
+right out in meeting, in a dreadful voice,--
+
+"_Patience Lyman!_"
+
+If he had fired a gun at her head it would not have startled her more.
+It was the first time she had ever been spoken to in public, and she
+sank back in Mary's arms, feeling that all was over with her. Other
+little girls had had their names called out, but they were generally
+those whose parents did not take proper care of them,--rude children,
+and not the sort with whom Patty associated.
+
+O, what would her mother say? Was there any place where she could go and
+hide? Sally Potter would never speak to her again, and Linda Chase would
+think she was a heathen child.
+
+She didn't care whether she ever had any new clothes to wear or not;
+what difference would it make to anybody that lived out in the barn? And
+that was where she meant to live all the rest of her days,--in one of
+the haymows.
+
+Kind sister Mary kept her arm round the sobbing child, and comforted
+her, as well as she could, by little hugs. The meeting was soon over,
+and Patty was relieved to find that she had the use of her feet. So
+crushed as she had been by this terrible blow, she had hardly supposed
+she should be able to walk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A WITCH-TALK.
+
+
+"It was real mean and hateful of Deacon Turner," says Mary, as they went
+back to Dr. Hilton's. "You didn't giggle any, hardly, and he knew you
+didn't mean to. I'll tell father, and he won't like it one bit."
+
+Patty choked back a sob. This was a new way of looking at things, and
+made them seem a little less dreadful. Perhaps she wouldn't stay in the
+barn forever; possibly not more than a year or two.
+
+"Deacon Turner is a very ha'sh man," said Siller; "but if he'd stopped
+to think twice, he wouldn't have spoken out so to one of you children;
+for you see your father is about the best friend he's got. He likes to
+keep on the right side of Squire Lyman, and he must have spoke out
+before he thought."
+
+Patty drew a long breath. She began to think the Deacon was the one to
+blame, and she hadn't done any thing so very bad after all, and wouldn't
+live in the barn more than a day or two, if she did as long as that.
+
+She was glad she was not going home to-night to be seen by any of the
+family, especially Rachel. By the time they reached Dr. Hilton's she was
+quite calm, and when Siller asked her if she would like some pancakes
+for breakfast, she danced, and said, "O, yes, ma'am," in her natural
+voice.
+
+But, as Siller said, they were all rather stirred up, and wouldn't be
+in a hurry about going to bed. Perhaps the blackberry tea they had drunk
+at supper time was too strong for Siller's nerves; at any rate, she felt
+so wide awake that she chose to sit up knitting, with Patty in her lap,
+and did not perceive that both the children were growing sleepy.
+
+It was a lovely evening, and the bright moon sailing across the blue sky
+set the simple woman to thinking,--not of the great and good God of whom
+she had been hearing this evening, but, I am ashamed to say, of witches!
+
+"I'm glad I've got company," said she, nodding to Mary, "for there's
+kind of a creeping feeling goes over me such shiny nights as this. It's
+just the time for Goody Knowles to be out on a broomstick."
+
+"Why, Siller Noonin," exclaimed Mary, "_you_ don't believe in such
+foolishness as that! I never knew you did before!"
+
+Siller did not answer, for she suddenly remembered that Mrs. Lyman was
+very particular as to what was said before her children.
+
+"Tell me, Siller; you don't suppose witches go flying round when the
+moon shines?" asked Mary, curling her lip.
+
+"That's what folks say, child."
+
+"Well, I do declare, Siller, I thought _you_ had more sense."
+
+Mrs. Noonin's black eyes sparkled with anger.
+
+"That's free kind of talk for a little girl that's some related to Sir
+William Phips; that used to be Governor of this Commonwealth of
+Massachusetts," said she.
+
+"I never heard of Mr. Phips."
+
+"Well, that's nothing strange. He died over a hundred years ago; but
+_he_ didn't make fun of witches, I can tell you. He had 'em chained up
+so they couldn't hurt folks."
+
+"Hurt folks?" said little Patty.
+
+"Yes; you know witches have a way of taking various shapes, such as cats
+and dogs, and all sorts of creeturs, and going about doing mischief,"
+said Siller, with a solemn click of her knitting-needles.
+
+Mary's nose went farther up in the air. She had heard plenty about the
+Salem Witchcraft, and knew the stories were all as silly as silly can
+be.
+
+"Didn't you never hear tell of that Joan of Arc over there to Salem?"
+went on Siller, who knew no more about history than a baby.
+
+"We've heard of _Noah's_ ark," put in Patty.
+
+"Well, Joan was a witch, and took the shape of a man, and marched at the
+head of an army, all so grand; but she got found out, and they burnt her
+up. It was fifty years ago or more."
+
+"Beg your pardon, Siller; but it was almost four hundred years ago,"
+said Mary; "and it wasn't in this country either, 'twas in France.
+Mother told me all about it; she read it in a book of history."
+
+Siller looked extremely mortified, and picked up a stitch without
+speaking.
+
+"And besides that," said Mary, "Joan of Arc was a beautiful young girl,
+and not a witch. I know some of the people called her so; but mother
+says they were very foolish and wicked."
+
+"Well, I ain't a going to dispute your mother in her opinion of witches;
+she knows twice to my once about books; but that ain't saying she knows
+everything, Polly Lyman," returned Siller, laying down her knitting in
+her excitement; "and 'twill take more'n your mother to beat me out of my
+seven senses, when I've seen witches with my own naked eyes, and heard
+'em a talking to their gray cats."
+
+"Where? O, where?" cried little Patty.
+
+All the "witch" Siller had ever seen was an Englishwoman by the name of
+Knowles, and the most she ever heard her say to her cat was "Poor
+pussy." But Siller did not like to be laughed at by a little girl like
+Polly Lyman; so she tried to make it appear that she really knew some
+remarkable things.
+
+"Well," said Mary, "I don't see why a gray cat is any worse to talk to
+than a white one: why is it? Mrs. Knowles asked my mother if it was
+having a gray cat that made folks call her a witch.--Siller, Mrs.
+Knowles wasn't the woman you meant, when you said you'd seen a witch?"
+
+"Perhaps so--perhaps not. But what did your mother say when Mrs. Knowles
+asked her that question?"
+
+"Why, mother laughed, and told Mrs. Knowles not to part with her gray
+cat, if it was good to catch mice."
+
+"Yes, yes. I know your mother don't believe any of these things that's
+going; but either Goody Knowles is a witch, or else I am," said Siller,
+her tongue fairly running away with her.
+
+"Why, Siller Noonin, what makes you think so?"
+
+"Well, for one thing, she can't shed but three tears, and them out of
+her left eye," said Siller; "that I know to be a fact, for I've watched
+her, and it's a sure sign. Then Daddy Wiggins, he weighed her once
+against the church Bible, and she was the lightest, and that's another
+sure sign. Moreover, he tried her on the Lord's Prayer, and she couldn't
+go through it straight to save her life. Did you ever mind Goody
+Knowles's face, how it's covered with moles?"
+
+"Do you mean those little brown things," cried Patty, "with hair in the
+middle? I've seen 'em lots of times; on her chin, too."
+
+"Yes, dear. Well, Polly, there never was a witch that didn't have moles
+and warts."
+
+"But what does Mrs. Knowles do that's bad?" says Mary, laughing a
+little, but growing very much interested.
+
+"Well, she has been known to bewitch cattle, as perhaps you may have
+heard. Last spring Daddy Wiggins's cows crept up the scaffold,--a thing
+cows never did afore."
+
+"O, but my father laughed about that. He said he guessed if Mr.
+Wiggins's cows had had hay enough, they wouldn't have gone out after
+some more; they'd have staid in the stalls."
+
+"It will do very well for your father to talk," returned Siller, who was
+growing more and more excited. "Of course Goody Knowles wouldn't bewitch
+any of _his_ creeturs; it's only her enemies she injures. And that makes
+me think, children, that it's kind of curious for us to be sitting here
+talking about her. She _may_ be up on the ridge-pole of the house,--she
+or one of her imps,--a hearing every word we say."
+
+"O, dear! O, dear!" cried Patty, curling her head under Siller's cape.
+
+"Nonsense, child. I was only in fun," said the thoughtless Siller,
+beginning to feel ashamed of herself, for she had not intended to talk
+in this way to the children; "don't lets think any more about it."
+
+And with that she hurried the little girls off to bed; but by this time
+their eyes were pretty wide open, as you may suppose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A WITCH-FRIGHT.
+
+
+Patty had forgotten all about her deep mortification, and never even
+thought of Deacon Turner, the tithing-man.
+
+"Hark!" whispered she to Mary, "don't you hear 'em walking on the roof
+of the house?"
+
+"Hear what?" said Mary, sternly.
+
+"Those things Siller calls creeturs--on broomsticks," returned Patty.
+
+"Nonsense; go to sleep, child."
+
+Mary was too well instructed to be really afraid of witches; still she
+lay awake an hour or two thinking over what Siller had said, and
+hearing her cough drearily in the next chamber. Little Patty was
+sleeping sweetly, but Mary's nerves were quivering, she did not know
+why, and
+
+    "All things were full of horror and affright,
+    And dreadful even the silence of the night."
+
+As she lay wishing herself safe at home in her own bed, there was a
+sudden noise outside her window,--the sound of heavy footsteps. Who
+could be walking there at that time of night? If it was a man, he must
+want to steal. Mary did not for a moment fancy it might be a woman, or a
+"creetur" on a broomstick,--she was too sensible for that; but you will
+not wonder that, as she heard the footsteps come nearer and nearer, her
+heart almost stopped beating from fright. Siller had not coughed for
+some time, and was very likely asleep. If so, there was no time to be
+lost.
+
+Mary sprang out of bed, and ran down stairs, whispering, "Fire! Murder!
+Thieves!"
+
+That wakened Patty, who ran after her, clutching at her night-dress, and
+crying out, "A fief! A fief!"
+
+For she had lost a front tooth the day before, and could not say
+"thief."
+
+It was a wonder they both did not fall headlong, going at such speed.
+
+Siller was in the kitchen, standing in the middle of the floor, with a
+red cloak on, staring straight before her, with a white, scared look.
+
+"Hush, children, for mercy's sake!" she whispered, putting her
+handkerchief over Patty's mouth, "we're in a terrible fix! It's either
+thieves or murderers, or else it's witches. Yes, Polly Lyman, witches!"
+
+"I don't hear the steps now," said Mary. "O, yes I do, too; yes I do,
+too."
+
+By that time there was a loud knocking.
+
+"It must be witches; thieves wouldn't knock," whispered Siller, tearing
+her back hair. "Hear 'em rattle that door! That was what it meant when I
+saw that black cat, just before sundown, worritting the doctor's dog. I
+thought then it was an imp."
+
+The door continued to rattle, and the children's teeth to chatter; also
+Siller's, all she had left in her head.
+
+"O, if we had a silver bullet," said she, "that would clear 'em out."
+
+Poor little Patty! You may guess at the state of her mind when I tell
+you she was speechless! For almost the first time in her life she was
+too frightened to scream.
+
+The knocking grew louder and louder; and Siller, seeing that something
+must be done, and she was the only one to do it, began to behave like a
+woman.
+
+"Stop shaking so, children," said she, with a sudden show of courage.
+"Keep a stiff upper lip! I've got an idea! It may be flesh and blood
+thieves come after the doctor's chany tea-cups!"
+
+"O, throw them out the window," gasped Mary.
+
+"No, Polly; not while I'm a live woman," replied Siller, who really had
+some sense when she could forget her fear of hobgoblins. "Into the
+hampshire, both of you, and let me button you in."
+
+The "hampshire" was a large cupboard, the lower part of which was half
+filled with boxes and buckets; but the children contrived to squeeze
+themselves into it.
+
+"It isn't fair, though," said Mary, putting her head out. "I ought to
+help you, Siller. Give me the shovel and tongs, and I will."
+
+Siller only answered by buttoning the hampshire door.
+
+Patty, feeling safer, screamed "Fief!" once more; and Mary gave her a
+shaking, which caused the child to bite her tongue; after which Mary
+hugged and kissed her with the deepest remorse.
+
+Who knew how long either of them had to live? What if the man should
+break down the kitchen door and get into the house? He was knocking
+harder than ever, and had been calling out several times,--
+
+"Let me in! Why don't you let me in?"
+
+"There, I do declare, that sounds like Dr. Hilton," whispered Mary to
+Patty.
+
+And sure enough, next moment the voice of Siller was heard exclaiming,
+in the utmost surprise,--
+
+"Bless me, doctor, you don't mean to say that's _you_!"
+
+It was the most welcome sound that the little prisoners in the
+"hampshire" could possibly have heard. And the laugh, gruff and cracked,
+which came from the doctor's throat, as soon as he got fairly into the
+house, was sweeter than the song of a nightingale.
+
+"Let us out! Let us out!" cried they, knocking to be let out as hard as
+the doctor had knocked to be let in, for Mary was beating the door with
+a bucket of sugar and Patty with a pewter porringer. But Siller was "all
+of a fluster," and it was the doctor himself who opened the hampshire
+doors after the little girls had almost pounded them down.
+
+They were both ashamed to be caught in their night-dresses, and ran up
+stairs as fast as they could go, but on the way overheard the doctor
+reproving Siller for giving "those innocent little children such a
+scare." He was not a wise man, by any means, but he had good common
+sense.
+
+"It is lucky my wife don't believe in witches," said he, "for I'm as
+likely to come home late at night as any way, and she'd be in hot water
+half her time."
+
+Next morning the children were very glad to go home, and Mary, though
+she would hardly have said so to any one, could not help thinking she
+should never like Siller Noonin quite so well after this as she had done
+before.
+
+They were climbing the fence to run across the fields, when some one
+said,--
+
+"Patience Lyman!"
+
+It was Deacon Turner, the tithing-man; but his voice was very mild this
+morning, and he did not look like the same man Patty had seen at prayer
+meeting. His face was almost smiling, and he had a double red rose in
+his hand.
+
+"Good morning, little ladies," said he, giving the rose to Patty, who
+blushed as red as the rose herself, and hung her head in bashful shame.
+
+"Thank you, sir," she stammered.
+
+"I can't bring myself to believe you meant to disturb the meetin' last
+night," said the deacon, taking her unwilling little hand.
+
+"No, O, no!" replied Patty, with dripping eyes.
+
+"It was in the school-'us, but then the school-'us is just as sacred as
+the meetin'-'us, when it's used for religious purposes. I'm afeared,
+Patience, you forgot you went there to hold communion 'long of His
+saints. I'm afeared your mind warn't in a fit state to receive much
+benefit from the occasion."
+
+Patty felt extremely uncomfortable. Good Deacon Turner seldom took the
+least notice of children--having none of his own, and no nieces or
+nephews;--and when he did try to talk to little folks, he always made a
+sad piece of work of it. He did not know how to put himself in sympathy
+with them, and could not remember how he used to feel when he was young.
+
+"We shall always be glad to see you at the regular Wednesday evenin'
+prayer meetin'," said he, "or to the prayer meetin's in the school-'us;
+but you must remember it ain't like a meetin' for seckler pupposes,
+Patience,--it's for prayer, and praise, and the singing of psalms; and
+you should conduct yourself in a circumspect and becoming manner, as is
+fittin' for the house of worship; and remember and feel that it's a
+privilege for you to be there."
+
+This was about the way the deacon talked to Patty, and of course she did
+not understand one word of it. She tells Flyaway Clifford and Dotty
+Dimple that grown people in old times almost always talked "too old,"
+and children were afraid of them.
+
+"Yes, my child," added the deacon, "you should realize that it is a
+precious privilege, and feel to say with the Psalmist,--
+
+    "'I joyed when to the house of God,
+      Go up, they said to me;
+    Jerusalem, within thy walls,
+      Our feet shall standing be.'"
+
+Patty was crying by this time very loud, and there was a certain babyish
+sound in her wail which suddenly reminded Deacon Turner that he was
+talking to a little girl, and not to a young woman.
+
+"There, there, now, don't cry," said he, patting her head, for her
+sun-bonnet had fallen back on her neck, "you didn't mean to make fun of
+religion; I'm sartin sure of that."
+
+"No, I di-idn't, or if I did, I di-idn't mean to," almost howled Patty.
+
+A grim smile overspread the deacon's face. The idea of an infant like
+that making fun of religion!
+
+"Somehow I was thinkin' you was an older child than what you be," said
+he, rubbing her silky hair as roughly as a plough would go through a bed
+of flowers. The action almost drove Patty wild, but the good man meant
+it most kindly.
+
+"Let's see, I suppose you know your letters now?" added he, going to the
+other extreme, and talking to her as if she were very young indeed.
+"And, of course, your mother, who is a godly woman, has you say your
+catechism. Do you remember, my dear, who made you?"
+
+The question caused Patty to raise her tearful eyes in astonishment. Did
+he think a girl six and a half years old didn't know that?
+
+"Yes, sir," said she, meekly; "God made me."
+
+"Right, my dear; that's well said. You're not such a bad child after
+all, and seem to have considerable sense. Here is a dollar for you, my
+little woman, and tell your mother I know she's bringing you up in the
+way you should go, and I hope when you are old you'll not depart from
+it."
+
+Patty stared at the dollar through her tears, and it seemed to stare
+back again with a face almost as big as a full moon.
+
+"O, thank you, sir," said she, with a deep courtesy.
+
+Never in her life had she owned a whole silver dollar before. How it
+danced and shone! She held it tight, for it did not seem to be real, and
+she was afraid it would melt or fly away before she could get it home.
+
+"Mother, O mother," cried she, "see this live dollar! Deacon Turner gave
+it to me for remembering who made me!"
+
+"Why, child, what do you mean?"
+
+"She means just what she says, mother," said Mary. "Deacon Turner spoke
+to her in prayer meeting last night--"
+
+"Why, Patience!"
+
+"And he was sorry for it, mother, just as Siller thought he'd be; and so
+he wanted to give her something to make up, I suppose; but _should_ you
+have thought he'd have given her that dollar?"
+
+Mrs. Lyman was grieved to learn that Patty had been so restless and so
+irreverent, and called her into the bedroom to talk with her about it.
+
+"My little girl is old enough to begin to think," said she.
+
+"Yes, mother," said Patty, laying the silver dollar against her cheek,
+"I do think."
+
+"But, Patience, you knew the people had met in that school-house to talk
+about God; you should have listened to what they were saying."
+
+"But, mamma, the words were too big; I can't understand such big words."
+
+"Well, then, my daughter, you certainly could have sat still, and let
+other people listen."
+
+Patty hung her head.
+
+"Has a child any right to go where good people are worshipping God, and
+behave so badly as to disturb them?"
+
+"No, mamma."
+
+Patty was crying again, and almost thought the barn _would_ be the best
+place for her to live in. Even her "live dollar" could not console her
+when her mother spoke in such a tone as that.
+
+"I'll never make any more _disturbment_, mamma," said she, in a
+broken-hearted tone.
+
+"I hope you'll remember it," said Mrs. Lyman, taking the child's two
+hands in hers, and pressing them earnestly.
+
+Patty was afraid she was about to deprive her of the precious dollar;
+but Mrs. Lyman did not do it; she thought Patty would remember without
+such a hard punishment as that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE SILK POCKET.
+
+
+When Mrs. Lyman heard what a fright the children had had at Dr. Hilton's
+she was much displeased, and forbade Siller Noonin ever to talk to them
+again about witches. Siller confessed she had done wrong, and "hoped
+Mrs. Lyman wouldn't lay it up against her."
+
+Patty said,--
+
+"Poh, she couldn't scare ME! I flied on a broomstick my own self, and I
+tumbled off. '_Course_ Mrs. Knowles can't do it; big folks like her!"
+
+At the same time Patty did not like to see Mrs. Knowles come to the
+house. It wasn't likely she had ever "flied on a broomstick;" but when
+Mrs. Lyman walked out with the good woman, as she sometimes did, Patty
+was uneasy till she got home again. Nobody suspected the little girl of
+such foolishness, and she never told of it till years after, when she
+was a tall young lady, and did not mind being laughed at for her
+childish ideas.
+
+But perhaps you would like to know what became of her live dollar. She
+did not know what to do with so much money, and talked about it first to
+one and then to another.
+
+"Moses," said she, "which would you ravver do, have me have a hundred
+cents, and you have ninety-nine cents, or me have ninety-nine cents, and
+you have a hundred?"
+
+Moses appeared to think hard for a moment, and then said,--
+
+"Well, I guess I'd rather _you'd_ have the hundred."
+
+"O, would you?" cried Patty, kissing him gratefully.
+
+"Yes," said Moses; "for if I had the most, you'd be teasing me for the
+odd cent."
+
+The dollar burnt Patty's fingers. Some days she thought she would give
+it to the heathen, and other days she wondered if it would be wrong to
+spend it for candy. Sometimes she meant to buy a pair of silver
+shoe-buckles for her darling Moses, and then again a vandyke for her
+darling Mary. In short, she could not decide what to do with such a vast
+sum of money.
+
+One day there came to the house a beggar girl, a little image of dirt
+and rags. She told a pitiful story about a dead mother and a drunken
+father, and nobody could know that it was quite untrue, and her mother
+was alive, and waiting for her two miles away.
+
+Patty was so much interested in the little girl's story, that she almost
+wanted to give her the silver dollar on the spot, but not quite. She ran
+into the bedroom to ask her mother what it was best to do.
+
+"Why, I thought I fastened that door," cried John, flourishing a
+paint-brush in her face. "Scamper, or you'll get some paint on your
+gown."
+
+Patty scampered, but not before she had stained her dress.
+
+"Where is mother?" asked she of Dorcas.
+
+"In the parlor; but don't go in there, child, for the doctor's wife is
+making a call, and Mrs. Chase, too."
+
+Patty did not wait for Dorcas to finish the sentence, but rushed into
+the parlor, out of breath. I am afraid she was rather glad to let the
+doctor's wife know she had some money, and thought of giving it away.
+Patty was not a bold child, but there were times when she did like to
+show off.
+
+"O, mother, mother!" cried she, without stopping to look at the ladies.
+"Let me have my silver dollar this minute! 'Cause there's a poor
+little--"
+
+"My child," said Mrs. Lyman, in a tone which checked Patty, and made her
+blush to the roots of her yellow hair.
+
+"Pray, let her finish her story," said the doctor's wife, drawing the
+little one to her side; "it's something worth hearing, I know."
+
+"It's a little girl," replied Patty, casting down her eyes, "and her
+mother is dead and her father is drunk."
+
+Patty supposed he lay all the while with his hat on, for she had once
+seen a man curled up in a heap by the roadside, and had heard John say
+he was drunk.
+
+"How very sad!" said Mrs. Potter.
+
+Mrs. Chase looked sorry.
+
+"Do you say the mother is dead?" said she.
+
+"Yes'm; the man killed her to death with a jug, and then she died,"
+replied Patty, solemnly.
+
+"Where is the child? Something must be done about it at once," said Mrs.
+Potter, a very kind lady, but apt to speak without much thought. "O,
+Patty, dear, I am glad you have such a good heart. It is beautiful to
+see little children remembering the words of our Saviour, 'It is more
+blessed to give than to receive.'"
+
+Patty's eyes shone with delight. It seemed to her that she was a little
+Lady Bountiful, going about the world taking care of the poor. She
+crept closer to Mrs. Potter's side.
+
+"I haven't but just one silver dollar," said she, in a low voice; "but
+I'd ravver give it to the little girl than keep it myself, I would!"
+
+"Bless your dear little soul," said the doctor's wife, kissing Patty;
+but Mrs. Chase said nothing; and all at once it occurred to the child
+that perhaps Mrs. Chase had heard of her being spoken to in meeting, and
+that was why she did not praise her. Dreadful thought! It frightened
+Patty so that she covered up her face till both the ladies had gone
+away, for they did not stay much longer.
+
+After the door was closed upon them, Mrs. Lyman said--,
+
+"Here is your silver dollar, Patty, in my pocket."
+
+Patty fancied that her mother's voice was rather cold. She had expected
+a few words of praise, or at least a kiss and a smile.
+
+"But think a minute, Patience. Are you sure you want to give it away?"
+
+Patty put her fingers in her mouth, and eyed the dollar longingly. How
+large, and round, and bright it looked!
+
+"I thought I heard you speak yesterday of buying Dorcas a vandyke,--or
+was it Mary?--and the day before of getting some shoe-buckles for
+Moses," added Mrs. Lyman, in the same quiet tones. "And only this
+morning your mind was running on a jockey for yourself. Whatever you
+please, dear. Take time to think."
+
+"O, I'd ravver have a jockey. I forgot that--a white one."
+
+"And what will become of the poor little girl?"
+
+"O, I guess Dorcas will give her some _remmernants_ to eat, and folks
+all around will see to her, you know."
+
+"My child, my child, you don't think as you did when those ladies were
+here. Do you remember your last Sunday's verse, and what I said about it
+then?"
+
+Mrs. Lyman's voice was very grave.
+
+Patty repeated the verse,--
+
+"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them;
+otherwise, ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven."
+
+She knew very well what it meant.
+
+"Doing alms before women is just the same as doing 'em before men,"
+thought Patty.
+
+She had been making pretty speeches just for the sake of being praised,
+and she didn't care so very much about the beggar girl after all.
+
+"I am going out to see that poor child for myself," said Mrs. Lyman,
+putting down the black silk pocket she was making; and Patty followed,
+with her money clasped close to her bosom.
+
+But by that time the dirty-faced little creature had gone away.
+
+"She told wrong stories," said Dorcas; "she said, in the first place,
+her mother was dead, and afterwards that her mother was sick."
+
+"Naughty thing! I'm glad I didn't give her my silver dollar!" exclaimed
+Patty; though she dared not look up, for fear of meeting her mamma's
+eyes.
+
+"Where _have_ you been, child, to get so stained with paint?" said
+Rachel, who always saw things before any one else did. "Come here, and
+let me sponge your gown with spirits of turpentine."
+
+"Strange I shouldn't have noticed that," said Mrs. Lyman. "I hope Mrs.
+Potter didn't spoil her crape shawl when she put her arm round you,
+Patience."
+
+Patty dropped her eyes with shame, to think how pleased Mrs. Potter had
+been with her just for nothing at all.
+
+"Spirits _turpletine_?" said she, making believe she had never heard the
+word before. "_Spirits_ turpletine? That isn't _angels_, Rachel? Then
+what makes you call 'em spirits?"
+
+Rachel knew the child was talking for the sake of changing the subject,
+and she would not answer such a foolish question.
+
+"Stand still, you little try-patience," said she, "or I shall never get
+off the paint."
+
+Mrs. Lyman went back to finish her pocket. Ladies in those days wore
+them under their dresses, tied about their waists. Mrs. Lyman's was a
+very pretty one, of quilted black silk, and when it was done, Patty put
+her dollar in it, and jingled it beside a gold piece of her mother's.
+
+"Which is worth the most, mamma?" said she, "your dollar or my dollar?"
+
+"Mine is worth just twenty times as much as yours."
+
+"Well, I'm glad that naughty girl hasn't got either of 'em," thought
+Patty. "I'm sorry I made believe _good_; but I want my dollar, and here
+'tis, all safe."
+
+Safe! Before night Patty's dollar was gone, and her mother's gold piece
+with it,--pocket, and all. It went that very afternoon; but nobody knew
+it till Mrs. Lyman was getting ready to go to the store two days
+afterwards, and wanted her pocket to put on.
+
+When she came into the kitchen and said it was not in her bureau drawer,
+and when Rachel, who always did the hunting, had looked everywhere and
+could not find it, then there was crying in that house, you may be sure.
+Patty said at once the beggar girl had taken the pocket.
+
+"But how could she?" said Dorcas. "She was out of sight and hearing
+before mother began to quilt it."
+
+"Well, then she came back in the night," sobbed Patty.
+
+"I dare say Snippet has put it out of place," said big brother James.
+
+"Yes, Patty is a great hand to lose things," said Rachel.
+
+"No, no, no; that _niggeramus_ girl came and took it; came in the
+night," persisted Patty.
+
+"Patience!" said her mother, reprovingly; and then Patty had to stop.
+
+She mourned only for the silver dollar. She would have mourned for the
+gold piece too, if she had known that her mother intended to buy fall
+clothes with it for the little girls. It was as well Patty did not know
+this, for she had as much already as she could bear.
+
+Priscilla Noonin came over that afternoon with her knitting. "It was
+midsummer, and the hay was down," and there were two men helping get it
+into the barn. One of the men was tall and well formed, but the other,
+Israel Crossman, was so short as to be almost a dwarf. He had yellow and
+white hair, was a little lame, and his hands were covered with warts.
+After supper he sat a few minutes on the top of the fence whittling a
+stick. As Siller Noonin stood knitting at the window she saw him, and
+shook her head.
+
+"Somehow or 'nother," said she, "I don't like the looks of that man, and
+never did. It's my private opinion, Mrs. Lyman, that either he stole
+your pocket or I did."
+
+"Be careful," whispered Mrs. Lyman, "he will hear you."
+
+He might have heard, or might not; but he soon got off the fence and
+limped away.
+
+"Israel bears a good character," said Mrs. Lyman; "I will not suspect
+him, unless I see better reason than I have ever seen yet."
+
+The loss of the silk pocket continued to be a great mystery. Everybody
+hunted for it from garret to cellar; but summer passed, and it did not
+come.
+
+Patty's grief wore away by degrees; still she never heard the word
+"pocket" or the word "dollar" without a pang. And every time she saw
+Mrs. Chase or Mrs. Potter, she could not help wondering if her money
+didn't fly away just to punish her for trying to "show off" before them?
+At any rate, she would never, never "show off" again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+PATTY'S SUNDAY.
+
+
+But we must give up hunting for a little while: Sunday has come. Let us
+forget that "live dollar" (_perhaps_ it's a dead dollar now), and go to
+church with Patty.
+
+When she was "dressed for meeting," she went into the nicely sanded
+parlor and stood alone before the looking-glass a minute or two to
+admire herself. Look at her! She had on a blue cambric frock, and a blue
+cambric jockey, or hat, turned up a little at the sides, and tied under
+the chin with a blue ribbon; and on her little brown hands were a pair
+of white cotton gloves. Don't laugh, little city folks! This was all
+very fine, sixty years ago, in a backwoods town. But look at her feet,
+and you _must_ laugh! Her shoes were of the finest red broadcloth, and
+Mrs. Lyman had made them herself out of pieces of her own cloak and some
+soft leather left in the house by Mr. Piper, the shoemaker. He went from
+family to family, making shoes; but he could not make all that were
+needed in town, so this was not the first time Mrs. Lyman had tried her
+hand at the business. She used a pretty last and real shoemaker's
+thread, and Mr. Piper said she was "a dabster at it; no wonder her
+husband was well off when he had such a smart wife."
+
+For, strange as it may seem to you, Squire Lyman _was_ "well off,"--that
+is, he had one of the best farms in the county, and more money than any
+one else in Perseverance, except Mr. Chase and Dr. Potter; those two
+men were much wealthier than he was.
+
+All the Lymans walked to church except the squire and his wife and the
+two little boys; they went in the chaise. Dr. Potter rode horseback,
+with a great show of silk stockings. His wife was propped up behind him
+on a pillion. She was a graceful rider, but of course she had to put one
+arm around the doctor to keep from falling off. This would be an odd
+sight now to you or me, but Patty was so used to seeing ladies riding on
+pillions that she thought nothing about it. She looked down at her red
+shoes twinkling in and out of the green grass, and might have been
+perfectly happy, only the soles wouldn't squeak.
+
+"Patty! Patty!" called sister Mary, "come back here and walk with me."
+
+Patty did not know till then that she was _hopping_. She went and took
+Mary's hand, and walked soberly along, thinking.
+
+"I hope Deacon Turner didn't see me. I guess he's 'way ahead of us. I
+want to run and swing my arms; but I won't, because it is God's holy
+day."
+
+On the way they overtook Sally Potter, whose jockey was dented and
+faded; and Patty said, "Good morning, Sally," with quite an air. But
+when Linda Chase came along, and her new red bosom-pin shone out in the
+sun, Patty's heart died within her.
+
+"S'pose Linda don't know some folks don't like to see little girls wear
+bosom-pins," thought she.
+
+When they reached the meeting-house Mrs. Potter was just alighting upon
+a horse-block. "Good morning, Linda," said she; "and how do _you_ do,
+Patty, my dear?"
+
+"H'm! She didn't say '_Linda_, my dear.' Guess she don't like
+bosom-pins," thought Patty; and her silly heart danced up again.
+
+"O, but I know why Mrs. Chase says 'Patty, my dear;' it's because
+I--well, she s'poses I gave that dollar to the girl that her father was
+drunk."
+
+And I am glad to say Patty blushed.
+
+The meeting-house was an unpainted building with two doors. As they
+walked in at the left door, their feet made a loud sound on the floor,
+which was without a carpet. There were galleries on each side of the
+house, and indeed the pulpit was in a gallery, up, up, ever so high,
+with a sounding-board over the preacher's head. Right in the middle of
+the church was a box stove, but you could see that it was not half large
+enough to heat the house. Of course there was no fire in it now, for it
+was midsummer; but in the winter ladies had to carry foot-stoves full
+of live coals to keep their feet warm in their pews.
+
+Squire Lyman's pew was very near the pulpit, and was always pretty well
+filled. Like the rest of the great square boxes,--for that was what they
+looked like,--the seat was so high that Patty's scarlet shoes dangled in
+the air ever so far from the floor.
+
+At precisely ten o'clock, Elder Lovejoy walked feebly up the aisle, and
+climbed the pulpit stairs. Patty watched him, as if he had been one of
+Jacob's angels ascending the ladder. He was a tall, thin man, with a
+fair complexion and long features. He wore a large turned-down collar
+and a white neckerchief, stuffed round the throat with what was called a
+pudding, and the ends of the neckerchief were so very long that they
+hung half way down his vest. Everybody loved Elder Lovejoy, for he was
+very good; but Patty thought him more than human. He seemed to her very
+far off, and sacred, like King Solomon or King David; and if he had worn
+a crown, she would have considered it very appropriate.
+
+After a long prayer, during which all the people stood up, Elder Lovejoy
+read a long, long psalm, and the people rose again to hear it sung. They
+turned their backs to the pulpit, and faced the singers.
+
+But there was a great surprise to-day. A strange sound mingled with the
+voices singing; it was the sound of a bass-viol. The people looked at
+one another in surprise, and some with frowns on their faces. Never had
+an instrument of music of any sort been brought into that little church
+before; and now it was Deacon Turner's brother, the blacksmith, who had
+ventured to come there with a fiddle!
+
+Good Elder Lovejoy opened his eyes, and wiped his spectacles, and
+thought something must be done about it; they could not have "dance
+music" in that holy place. Deacon Turner and a great many others thought
+just so too; and at noon they talked to the wicked blacksmith, and put a
+stop to his fiddle.
+
+But nothing of this was done in church time. Elder Lovejoy preached a
+very long sermon, in a painfully sing-song tone; but Patty thought it
+was exactly right; and when she heard a minister preach without the
+sing-song, she knew it must be wrong. She could not understand the
+sermon, but she stretched up her little neck towards the pulpit till it
+ached, thinking,--
+
+"Well, mamma says I must sit still, and let other people listen. I
+won't make any _disturbment_."
+
+Mrs. Lyman looked at her little daughter with an approving smile, and
+Deacon Turner, that dreadful tithing-man up in the gallery, thought his
+lecture had done that "flighty little creetur" a great deal of good--or
+else it was his dollar, he did not know which.
+
+Patty sat still for a whole hour and more, counting the brass nails in
+the pews, and the panes of glass in the windows, and keeping her eyes
+away from Daddy Wiggins, who always made her want to laugh. At last the
+sermon was over, and the people had just time enough to go to their
+homes for a cold dinner before afternoon service, which began at one
+o'clock.
+
+Sunday did seem like a long day to little folks; and do you wonder? They
+had no Sabbath school or Sabbath school books; and the only part of the
+day which seemed to be made for them was the evening. At that time they
+had to say their catechisms,--those who had not said them the night
+before.
+
+Did you ever see a Westminster Catechism, with its queer little
+pictures? Then you can have no idea how it looks. After supper Mrs.
+Lyman called the children into her bedroom, shut the door, and had them
+repeat their lessons, beginning with the question, "Who was the first
+man?"
+
+Patty supposed the Catechism was as holy as the Bible, and thought the
+rhyme,--
+
+    "Zaccheus he
+    Did climb a tree,
+    His Lord to see,"
+
+was fine poetry, of course, and she never dreamed of laughing at the
+picture of dried-up little Zaccheus standing on the top of a
+currant-bush.
+
+Little Solly could answer almost all the questions, and sometimes baby
+Benny, who sat in his mamma's lap, would try to do it too. They all
+enjoyed these Sunday evenings in "mother's bedroom," for Mrs. Lyman had
+a very pleasant way of talking with her children, and telling
+interesting Bible stories.
+
+The lesson this evening was on the commandment, "Thou shalt not covet."
+When Patty understood what it meant, she said promptly, "Well, mamma,
+_I_ don't do it."
+
+For she was thinking,--
+
+"What you s'pose I want of Linda Chase's bosom-pin? I wouldn't be seen
+wearing it!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+MRS. CHASE'S BOTTLE.
+
+
+You see Patty knew as much about her own little heart as she did about
+Choctaw.
+
+One Wednesday morning, early in September, Mrs. Lyman stood before the
+kneading trough, with both arms in dough as far as the elbows. In the
+farthest corner of the kitchen sat little Patty, pounding mustard-seed
+in a mortar.
+
+"Mamma," said she, "Linda Chase has got a calico gown that'll stand
+alone."
+
+"I've heard you tell of that before," said Mrs. Lyman, taking out a
+quantity of dough with both hands, putting it on a cabbage-leaf, and
+patting it into shape like a large ball of butter. A cabbage-leaf was as
+good as "a skillet," she thought, for a loaf of brown bread.
+
+"Did you ever see a gown stand all alone, mother? Linda says _hers_
+does."
+
+"Poh, it don't!" said Moses. "I know better."
+
+"Then hers told a lie!" exclaimed little Solly. "George Wash'ton never
+told a lie."
+
+"Linda tells the truth," said Patty; "now, mamma, why don't _my_ gowns
+stand alone?"
+
+"I want to be like George Wash'ton," put in Solly again, pounding with
+the rolling-pin, "and papa's got a hatchet; but we don't have no cherry
+trees. I _can't_ be like George Wash'ton."
+
+"O, what a noise! Stop it!" said Moses, tickling little Solly under the
+arms.
+
+"Mamma, I wish I was as rich as Linda," said Patty, raising her voice
+above the din.
+
+A look of pain came into Mrs. Lyman's eyes. It was not alone the
+children's racket that disturbed her. She sighed, and turned round to
+open the door of the brick oven. The oven had been heated long ago, and
+Dorcas had taken out the coals. It was just the time to put in the brown
+bread, and Mrs. Lyman set the cabbage-leaf loaves on the wooden
+bread-shovel, and pushed them in as far as they would go.
+
+After this was done she began to mix pie-crust; but not a word had she
+to say about the gown that would stand alone.
+
+"Now, Patience, you may clean the mortar nicely, and pound me some
+cinnamon."
+
+Patty thought her mother could not know how her little arm ached. Linda
+Chase didn't have to pound things; her mother thought she was too
+small. Linda's father had a gold watch with a chain to it, and Linda's
+big brother drove two horses, and looked very fine, not at all like
+George and Silas. Patty would not have thought of the difference, only
+she had heard Betsy Gould say that Fred Chase would "turn up his nose at
+the twins' striped shirts."
+
+"Mamma," said she, beginning again in that teasing tone so trying to
+mothers, "_I_ have to eat bread and milk and bean porridge, and Linda
+don't. She has nice things all the time."
+
+"Patience," said Mrs. Lyman, wearily, "I cannot listen to idle
+complaints. Solomon, put down that porringer and go ask Betsey to wash
+your face."
+
+"But, mamma," said Patty, "why can't I have things like Linda Chase?"
+
+"My little girl must try to be happy in the state in which God has
+placed her," said Mrs. Lyman, trimming a pie round the edges.
+
+"But I don't live in a state," said Patty, dropping a tear into the
+cinnamon; "I live in the _District_ of Maine; and I want a gown that'll
+stand alo-ne!"
+
+    "It's half past eight,
+    And I can't afford to wait,"
+
+sang Moses from the south entry.
+
+This was a piece of poetry which always aroused Patty. Up she sprang,
+and put on her cape-bonnet to start for school at Mrs. Merrill's, just
+round the corner.
+
+"Daughter," said Mrs. Lyman, in a low voice, as she was going out, "you
+have a happier home than poor Linda Chase. Don't cry for things that
+little girl has, because, my dear, it is wicked."
+
+"A happier home than poor Linda Chase!"
+
+Patty was amazed, and did not know what her mother meant; but when she
+got to school there was Linda in a dimity loose-gown, and Linda said,--
+
+"_My_ mother wants you to come and stay all night with me, if _your_
+mother's willing."
+
+So Patty went home at noon to ask. Mrs. Lyman never liked to have Patty
+gone over night; but the child pleaded so hard that she gave her
+consent, only Patty must take her knitting-work, and musn't ask to wear
+her Sunday clothes.
+
+When she went home with Linda she found Mrs. Chase sitting by the parlor
+window very grandly dressed. She kissed Patty, without once looking at
+Patty's gingham loose-gown; but her eyes were quite red, as if she had
+been crying.
+
+"I like to have you come to see Linda," said she, "for Linda has no
+little sister, and she feels rather lonesome."
+
+Then the children went up stairs to see the wonderful calico gown which
+cost "four and sixpence" a yard, and _almost_ stood alone (that was all
+Linda had ever said it could do).
+
+Mr. Chase and Fred were both away from home; and Patty was glad, for Mr.
+Chase was so very polite and stiff, and Fred always talked to her as if
+she was a baby. She did not like to go to see Linda when either of them
+was there.
+
+Mrs. Chase took both the little girls in her lap, and seemed to enjoy
+hearing their childish prattle. Patty glanced at the gay rings on the
+lady's fingers, and at the pictures on the walls, and wondered why it
+wasn't a happy home, and what made Mrs. Chase's eyes so red. Then all at
+once she remembered what Siller Noonin had said: "O, yes, Mrs. Chase
+has everything heart can wish, except a bottle to put her tears in."
+
+Patty did not see why a handkerchief wasn't just as good; but she could
+not help looking at Linda's mother with some curiosity. If she really
+had a strong preference for crying into a bottle, why didn't her rich
+husband buy her a bottle, a glass one, beautifully shaped, with gold
+flowers on it, and let her cry into it just as much as she pleased? He
+was rich, and he ought to.
+
+When they went to bed in the beautiful chamber that had such pretty
+furniture, Mrs. Chase kissed them good night, but not in a happy way,
+like Patty's mother.
+
+"What makes your ma look so?" said Patty; "has she got the side-ache?"
+
+"No, I guess not," replied little Linda; "but she says she feels bad
+round the heart."
+
+"My ma don't," returned Patty, thoughtfully. "I never heard her say so."
+
+That was the last Patty knew, till ever so long afterwards, right in the
+middle of a dream, she heard a great noise. It was a sound of scuffling,
+and something being dragged up stairs. She saw the glimmer of lights,
+and heard somebody's voice--she thought it was Mr. Chase's--say, "Look
+out for his head, George."
+
+"What is it?" whispered Patty. "O, _what_ is it?"
+
+Linda covered her face with the sheet, and whispered, trembling all
+over,--
+
+"I _guess_ Freddy's sick."
+
+"No, no, no," cried Patty; "hear how loud he talks!"
+
+"O, but he's very sick," repeated Linda.
+
+They heard him in the next chamber, kicking against the wall, and saying
+dreadful words, such as Patty had never heard before--words which made
+her shiver all over as if she was cold.
+
+"Is it 'cause he is sick?" said she to Linda.
+
+Linda thought it was.
+
+Next morning, bright and early, Patty had to run home to help Moses turn
+out the cows; there were nine of them, and it took two, besides the dog
+Towler, to get them to pasture. She told her mother what she had heard
+in the night, and her mother looked very sober; but Rachel spoke up
+quickly,--
+
+"I'll tell you, Patty, what makes Fred Chase have such sick turns; he
+drinks too much brandy."
+
+"Yes," said big brother John; "that fellow keeps a bottle in his room
+the whole time."
+
+"Is it his mamma's bottle?" asked Patty; for it flashed over her all at
+once that perhaps that was the reason Mrs. Chase didn't have a bottle to
+cry into, because Fred kept it up in his room--full of brandy.
+
+Nobody knew what she meant by asking "if it was his mamma's bottle;" so
+no one answered; but Mrs. Lyman said,--
+
+"You see, Patty, it can't be very pleasant at Linda's house, even if she
+does have calico dresses that stand alone."
+
+"It don't _quite_ stand alone, mamma."
+
+"And I hope you won't cry again, my daughter, for pretty things like
+hers."
+
+"No, I won't mamma.--Is that why Linda's mother 'feels bad round her
+heart,' 'cause Freddy drinks out of the bottle?"
+
+"Yes, dear, it makes Mrs. Chase very unhappy."
+
+"Then I'm sorry, and I won't ever cry to have things like Linda any
+more."
+
+"That is right, my child; that's right!--Now, darling, run and help
+Moses turn out the cows."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+MASTER PURPLE.
+
+
+I think it was the next winter after this that Patty had that dreadful
+time in school. If she had known what was coming, she would not have
+been in such a hurry for her shoes. Mr. Piper came in the fall, after he
+had got his farm work done, to "shoe-make" for the Lymans, beginning
+with the oldest and going down to the youngest; and he was so long
+getting to Patty that she couldn't wait, and started for school the
+first day in a pair of Moses's boots.
+
+O, dear; but such a school as it was. Timothy Purple was the worst
+teacher that ever came to Perseverance. He was very cruel, but he was
+cowardly too; for he punished the helpless little children and let the
+large ones go free. I have no patience with him when I think of it!
+
+The first day of school he marched about the room, pretending to look
+for a nail in the wall to hang the naughtiest scholar on, whether it was
+a boy or a girl. Patty was so frightened that her milk-teeth chattered.
+You little folks who go to pleasant, orderly schools, and receive no
+heavier punishment than black marks in a book, can't have much idea how
+she suffered.
+
+She expected every day after this to see a rope come out of Mr. Purple's
+pocket, and was sure if he hung anybody it would be Patty Lyman. Mr.
+Purple soon found she was afraid of him, and it gratified him, because
+he was just the sort of man to like to see little ones tremble before
+him.
+
+"I tell you what," said Moses, indignantly, "he's all the time picking
+upon Patty."
+
+And so he was. He often shook her shoulders, twitched her flying hair,
+or boxed her pretty little ears. Not that he disliked Patty, by any
+means. I suppose a cat does not dislike a mouse, but only torments it
+for the sake of seeing it quiver.
+
+Moses was picked upon too; but he did not make much complaint, for the
+"other fellows" of his age were served in the same way.
+
+As for poor little browbeaten Patty, she went home crying almost every
+night, and her tender mother was sometimes on the point of saying to
+her,--
+
+"Dear child, you shall not go another day."
+
+But she did not say it, for good Mrs. Lyman could not bear to make a
+disturbance. She knew if she should take Patty out of school, other
+parents would take their children out too; for nobody was at all
+satisfied with Mr. Purple, and a great many people said they wished the
+committee had force enough to turn him away.
+
+But there was a storm in the air which nobody dreamed of.
+
+The sun rose one morning just as usual, and Patty started for school at
+half past eight with the rest of the children. You would have pitied her
+if you had been there. The tears were dripping from her seven years old
+eyes like a hail shower. It was very cold, but she didn't mind that
+much, for she had a yellow blanket round her head and shoulders, and
+over those boots of Moses's were drawn a pair of big gray stockings,
+which turned up and flopped at the toes. And it wasn't that ridiculous
+goosequill in her hair which made her cry either, though I am sure it
+must have hurt. No; it was the thought of the master, that dreadful man
+with the ferule and the birch sticks.
+
+Her mother stood at the door with a saucer pie in her hand. She knew
+there was nothing Patty liked better.
+
+"Here, Patience," said she, in a tone of motherly pity, "here's a pie
+for you. Don't you think now you can go without crying?"
+
+Patience brightened at that, and put the bunch of comfort into Moses's
+dinner pail, along with some doughnuts as big as her arm, and some brown
+bread and sausages.
+
+It was a long way to the school-house, and by the time the children got
+there their feet were numb. There was a great roaring fire in the
+enormous fireplace; but it did Patty no good, for this was one of the
+master's "whipping days," and he strode the brick hearth like a savage
+warrior. Where was the _little_ boy or girl brave enough to say,
+"Master, may I go to the fire?"
+
+Poor Patty took out her Ladies' Accidence, and turned over the leaves.
+It was a little book, and the title sounds as if it was full of stories;
+but you must not think Patty would have carried a story book to school!
+
+No; this was a Grammar. In our times little girls scarcely seven years
+old are not made to study such hard things, for their teachers are wise
+enough to know it is of no use. Patty was as good a scholar as any in
+school for her age. Her letters had been boxed into her ears very young
+by Miss Judkins, and now she could read in Webster's Third Part as fast
+as a squirrel can run up a tree; but as for grammar, you could put all
+she knew into a doll's thimble. She could not tell a noun from a verb,
+nor could Linda Chase or Sally Potter, if you stood right over them, all
+three, with three birch switches. They all knew long strings of words,
+though, like this:--
+
+"A noun is the name of anything that exists, or that we have any notion
+of."
+
+She liked to rattle that off--Patty did--or her little nimble tongue,
+her head keeping time to the words.
+
+I wish you had heard her, and seen her too, or that I could give you any
+idea of Mr. Purple's school.
+
+Stop a minute. Shut your eyes, and think you are in
+Perseverance.--There, do you see that man in a blue swallow-tail coat?
+This is the master. His head runs up to a peak, like an old-fashioned
+sugar loaf, and blazes like a maple tree in the fall of the year. He
+stands by his desk making a quill pen, and looking about him with sharp
+glances, that seem to cut right and left. Patty almost thinks his head
+is made of eyes, like the head of a fly; and she is sure he has a pair
+in the pockets of his swallow-tail coat.
+
+But it is a great mistake. He does not see a twentieth part of the
+mischief that is going on; and what he does see he dares not take much
+notice of, for he is mortally afraid of the large boys.
+
+There is a great noise in the room of shuffling feet and buzzing lips,
+but he pretends not to hear it.
+
+Up very near the back seat sits Mary Lyman, or Polly, as almost
+everybody calls her, with a blue woolen cape over her shoulders, called
+a vandyke, and her hair pulled and tied, and doubled and twisted, and
+then a goosequill shot through it like a skewer.
+
+Behind her, in the very back seat of all, sits Dorcas, the prettiest
+girl in town, with a pale, sweet face, and a wide double frill in the
+neck of her dress.
+
+Patty's future husband, William Parlin, is just across the aisle. He is
+fourteen years old, and you may be sure has never thought yet of
+marrying Patty.
+
+The twins, Silas and George, sit together, pretending to do sums on a
+slate; but, I am sorry to say, they are really making pictures of the
+master. George says "his forehead sneaks away from his face," and on the
+slate he is made to look like an idiot. But the color of his hair cannot
+be painted with a white slate pencil.
+
+"I expect every day I shall scream out 'Fire!'" whispered Silas! "Mr.
+Purple's a-fire!"
+
+In the floor stands brother Moses, with a split shingle astride his
+nose, after the fashion of a modern clothes-pin. So much for eating
+beechnuts in school, and peeling them for the little girls; but he and
+Ozem Wiggins nod at each other wisely behind Mr. Purple's back, as much
+as to say, they know what the reason is _they_ have to be punished; it
+is because they are only nine years old; if they were in their teens the
+master wouldn't dare! Ozem has not peeled beechnuts, but he has "called
+names," and has to hold out a hard-wood poker at arm's length. If he
+should curve his elbow in the least, it would get a rap from the
+master's ferule.
+
+"Class in Columbian Orator," says Mr. Purple, "take your places out in
+the floor."
+
+A dozen of the large boys and girls march forth, their shoes all
+squeaking as if some of the goosequills had got into the soles.
+
+"Observe!"
+
+You would not understand that, but they know it means, "Make your
+manners;" and the girls obey by quick little courtesies, and the boys by
+stiff little bows.
+
+Most of them say "natur" and "creetur," though duly corrected, and
+Charley Noonin, Siller's nephew, says "wooled" for "would."
+
+Next comes a class in the Art of Reading. The twins are in that.
+
+Then Webster's Third Part, and unhappy little Patty steps out, almost
+crying with chilblains, and has to be shaken because she doesn't stand
+still.
+
+After that some poor little souls try to spell out the story of
+"Thrifty and Unthrifty" in Webster's shingle-covered spelling-book.
+
+"Class in Morse's Geography.--Little lady in that front seat, be
+car-ful! Come out here, Patty Lyman, and stand up by the fireplace. No
+crying."
+
+It is almost a daily habit with Master Purple to call Patty into the
+floor while the geography class recites, and afterwards to give her a
+small whipping, for no other reason in the world than that she cannot
+stand still. William Parlin, who is a manly, large-hearted boy, pities
+the poor little thing, and sometimes darkly hints that he is not going
+to look on much longer and see her abused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+LITTLE GRANDFATHER.
+
+
+But let us hear the geography class.
+
+The pupils stay in their seats to recite, while the master walks the
+floor and switches his boots. There is such a fearful uproar to-day that
+he has to raise his voice as if he were speaking a ship in a storm.
+
+"What two rivers unite to form the Ohio?"
+
+"A pint of clover seed and a bushel of _Timothy_," replies William
+Parlin, in a low voice.
+
+"Right," returns Mr. Purple, who has not heard a word, but never
+contradicts William because his father is on the committee.--"Next:
+Soil of Kentucky?"
+
+"Flat-boats and flat-irons," replies one of the twins, just loud enough
+to set the boys laughing three seats before and behind him.
+
+"Very well, _ver_-y well.--Less laughing.--What is the capital? Speak up
+distinctly."
+
+"Capital punishment," responds the other twin, cracking an acorn.
+
+"Correct.--Next may answer, a _little_ louder: Where is Frankfort?"
+
+And that was the way the lesson went. There had been a great deal more
+noise than usual, and Mr. Purple was almost distracted, for he saw the
+large boys were "in league," and he dared not call them to account.
+
+Meanwhile active little Patty, who thought she was standing perfectly
+still, studying that dreadful Ladies' Accidence, had really been
+spinning about on one foot; and just then she darted forward to tear a
+bit of shining bark from a white birch stick in the "ears" of the
+fireplace.
+
+"Master," cried out a mean-spirited boy on the front bench, "Patty's
+pickin' gum off that ar log; I seed her."
+
+Master Purple strode quickly across the room. He had been longing for a
+whole hour to give _somebody_ a terrible whipping; and here was a good
+opportunity.
+
+Of course it was the unmanly little tell-tale he was going to punish?
+
+No, indeed; it was Patty. He seized upon the bewildered little creature
+with the greatest fury.
+
+"Patty Lyman, what do you mean, young woman? Haven't I laid down a rule,
+and how dare you disobey? It was only yesterday I feruled Ozen Wiggins
+for chewing gum."
+
+"I didn't," wailed Patty.
+
+"What? Do you contradict me? We'll see about that! Hold out your hand,
+you naughty, wicked child!"
+
+The tone was so fierce, and the clutch on her shoulder hurt her so much,
+that poor Patty screamed fearfully.
+
+"Hold out your hand!" repeated the master.
+
+Patty gave him her slender baby-palm, poor little creature! while Dorcas
+and Mary, up in the back seats, both drew in their breaths with a
+shudder.
+
+Down came the hard-wood ferule, whizzing through the air like a thing of
+life. No time then to tell Mr. Purple she _couldn't_ have picked gum off
+a hard-wood stick if she had tried; he wouldn't have believed her, and
+wouldn't have listened, no matter what she said.
+
+One! two! three! Patty had never been struck like this before. The twins
+looked at each other, and almost rose from their seats. Indignation
+flashed from thirty pairs of eyes, but the master was too excited to see
+it.
+
+Four! five! six! Patty's little figure bent like a broken reed, when
+there was a shuffling of boots in the aisle, and a voice shouted,
+
+"Stop that, sir!"
+
+It was William Parlin's voice. He had sent it on ahead of him, and was
+following after it as fast as he could.
+
+"Let that child alone, Master Purple."
+
+[Illustration: LITTLE GRANDFATHER SPEAKS.--Page 138.]
+
+Master Purple was so utterly surprised and confounded that he stood
+stock still, with his ferule high in the air.
+
+In another minute William was at his side.
+
+"Do you mean to let go that little girl's hand, sir?"
+
+Master Purple stood and glared.
+
+"She's taken her last ruling, sir. I won't look on and see such small
+children abused, sir. If the committee can't make a fuss about it, I
+will."
+
+You might have heard a pin drop. The whole school held its breath in
+surprise. Master Purple, not knowing what he did, dropped Patty's hand,
+and the sobbing child tried to go to her seat; but, blinded with tears,
+and pain and fright, she mistook the way, and staggered along to the
+fireplace.
+
+"Poor little thing, don't cry!" said William, lowering his voice to the
+gentlest tone; and taking her in his arms he carried her up to the back
+seat, and set her in Dorcas's lap.
+
+It was an action which Patty never forgot. From that moment she loved
+dear William Parlin with all her little heart.
+
+"O, William, do be careful," said Dorcas; for by that time Master Purple
+had come to his senses, and was rushing towards William, brandishing
+that heavy ruler.
+
+But William was too quick for him. Before Master Purple could reach the
+back seat, the boy ran across the benches between the heads of the
+frightened children, and seizing the monstrous tongs, tossed them like a
+feather, exclaiming,
+
+"Stand off, sir!"
+
+What could Mr. Purple do? He was angry enough to tear William in
+pieces; but it was not so easy to get at a boy who was armed with a
+pair of tongs.
+
+"How dare you?" he cried, choking with rage; "how dare you, young man?
+Are the boys in this school willing to look on and see their teacher
+insulted?"
+
+The boys did seem to be willing. Mr. Purple glanced about the room,
+hoping some one would come to his aid; but no one came. They were all
+against him, and full of admiration for William, though none of them
+would have dared to take William's place.
+
+The little boys liked the excitement, but the little girls thought this
+was the end of the world, and began to cry.
+
+"Is this the treatment I am to receive from my school?" exclaimed Master
+Purple, in despair.
+
+The like had never been heard of in the town of Perseverance that a
+school should rise against its teacher.
+
+"I am going straight to your father to inform him of your conduct," he
+stammered, his face white with wrath.
+
+And seizing his hat, he rushed out of the house, without stopping for
+his cloak.
+
+I will not try to describe the uproar which followed. I will only say
+that William Parlin was afterwards reproved by his father for his rash
+conduct, but not so severely as some people thought he should have been.
+Mr. Purple's red head was never seen in that school-house again. Another
+teacher came to take his place, who was a Christian gentleman, and
+treated the little children like human beings.
+
+No one was more glad of the change than Patty Lyman. The new master came
+to town before her tender palm was quite healed from the cruel blows;
+and she was the first to see him. But the meeting happened in such a
+queer way, that I shall have to tell you about it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE LITTLE DIPPER.
+
+
+"Well, mother," said Squire Lyman, one afternoon, "the new teacher has
+got along, and by the looks of him I don't believe he is the man to
+abuse our little girl. Patty, dear, open the cellar door for papa."
+
+Mr. Lyman's arms were full of hemlock, which he had brought home from
+the woods. Betsy liked it for brooms, and he and his hired men always
+got quantities of it when they were hauling the winter's wood from the
+wood lot.
+
+"Yes, I know the Starbird family very well," replied Mrs. Lyman; "that
+is, I used to know this young man's mother, and I presume he is quite
+different from Mr. Purple."
+
+Mrs. Lyman was sitting before the kitchen fire with the great family
+Bible in her lap; but, instead of reading it, she was winding round it
+some white soft wicking.
+
+"Why, mamma, mamma, what are you doing?" exclaimed Patty. "How can papa
+read to-night with the Bible all tied up?"
+
+"I shan't hurt the good book, my dear." And as Mrs. Lyman spoke she cut
+the wicking in two with the shears, and as it fell apart it let out the
+precious volume just as good as ever. Then she took from the table some
+slender sticks, and put on each stick twelve pieces of wicking, giving
+each piece a little twist with her fingers.
+
+"O, now I know," said Moses, who was watching too; "you're a goin' to
+make candles--going to dip those strings in a kettle of something hot.
+Yes, I know."
+
+"Yes, and there's the kettle," said Patty.
+
+Mrs. Lyman was very late this year about her candles. She dipped them
+once a year, and always in the afternoon and evening, because there was
+so much, so very much going on in that kitchen in the morning.
+
+"Now, please, mamma," said Patty, "let me help."
+
+Mrs. Lyman tipped two chairs face downward towards the floor,--"Like
+folks trying to creep," said Patty,--and laid two long sticks from one
+chair to the other, making a very good fence. Next she set the candle
+rods across the fence, more than a hundred of them in straight rows.
+
+"James," called she, going to the door; and while James was coming she
+laid a large plank on the floor right under the candle rods.
+
+"That's to catch the drippings," said the learned Moses; and he was
+right.
+
+Squire Lyman and James came in and lifted the heavy brass kettle from
+the crane, and placed it on a board just in front of the brick hearth,
+not far from the creeping chairs; and then Mrs. Lyman sat down to dip
+candles.
+
+In the first place, when she put the pieces of wicking into the kettle
+of hot tallow and took them out again, they looked like greasy strings,
+and nothing else. One after another she dipped them in and drew them
+out, dipped them in and drew them out, and set them carefully back in
+their places across the fence.
+
+Patty and Moses looked on with great Interest.
+
+"How slow they are!" said Moses. "I've kept count, and you've dipped
+more'n a hundred sticks, and you haven't made one candle yet."
+
+"Rome wasn't built in a day," said Mrs. Lyman, going back to the very
+beginning, and dipping the first row over again.
+
+"I don't know what Rome is," said Patty.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't fuss with those strings," observed Moses; "why, this
+makes twice, and they're no bigger round yet than slate pencils."
+
+"I'd let 'em alone," said Patty, "and not try."
+
+"Moses, you might as well run off and see if father wants you," said
+Mrs. Lyman; "and, Patience, I know Dorcas would like some cloves
+pounded."
+
+In about an hour Patty was back again. The candles had grown, but only a
+very little. They were no larger yet than _lead_ pencils. And there sat
+Mrs. Lyman with a steady, sober look on her face, as if she had made up
+her mind to wait and let them take their time to grow.
+
+"What slow candles!" cried Patty.
+
+"Patience, dear," said Mrs. Lyman, smiling.
+
+"There, mamma, you said Patience, but you didn't mean me; you meant the
+_good_ kind of patience."
+
+"Yes, I meant the patience that works and waits. Now go and wash some
+potatoes for to-morrow's breakfast, and then you may come again and
+look."
+
+"When Patty came the second time, she exclaimed, with delight,
+
+"O, mamma, they're as big round as candy! Wish _'twas_ candy; wouldn't I
+eat?"
+
+Mrs. Lyman began again at the first row.
+
+"Why, mamma Lyman, true's you live I can begin to see 'em grow!"
+
+"You are right," said her mother. "People don't work and wait, all for
+nothing, daughter."
+
+"Yankee Doodle came to town," sang Patty, dancing the time to the tune,
+as if she did not hear her mother's words. But she did hear them, and
+was putting them away in her memory, along with a thousand other things
+which had been said to her, and which she had not seemed to hear at the
+time.
+
+I wish Mrs. Lyman could have known this, for she sometimes thought it
+was of no use to talk to Patty. I wish she could have known that years
+afterwards the dancing child would be comforted in many a trouble by
+these cheery words, "People don't work and wait for nothing, daughter."
+For you see it all came back to Patty when she was a woman. She saw a
+picture of her good mother dipping candles, with a steady, sober look on
+her face; and that picture always did her good.
+
+I wonder if the little folks, even in these days, don't hear and heed
+more than they appear to? If so, their mammas ought to believe it, and
+take courage.
+
+"Mother, why do you pour hot water into that kettle? Won't water _put
+out_ candles?"
+
+"Perhaps not; perhaps it will make the tallow rise to the top," said
+Mrs. Lyman, laughing.
+
+"O, so it does. Isn't it _such_ fun to dip candles? They grow as fast as
+you can wink. Mayn't I dip, please, mamma?"
+
+"Who was it," replied Mrs. Lyman, with a quiet smile, "that said, 'I'd
+let 'em alone, and not try?'"
+
+"O, but, mamma, that was when they didn't grow, you know."
+
+"Well, dear, I'll let you dip in a rod by and by; I can't stop now."
+
+Patty waited, but the "by and by" did not come. Mrs. Lyman seemed to
+have forgotten her promise; and about eight o'clock had to leave the
+candles a few minutes to give Dorcas some advice about the fitting of a
+dress. Dorcas was to take her mother's place; but just as she started
+for the kitchen, there was an outcry from Mary, who had cut her finger,
+and wanted it bound up.
+
+"It's my by-and-by _now_," thought little Patty.
+
+There was not a soul in the kitchen to attend to those candles. Deary
+me, and the tallow growing so cold! Wasn't it Patty's duty to help?
+
+Of course it was; and seating her little self with much dignity in the
+chair from which her mother had just risen, and propping her feet on the
+round, she took up the business where it was left off. It seemed the
+easiest thing in the world to flash those round white candles into the
+kettle and out again; but they were a great deal heavier than she had
+supposed. After she had dipped two or three rods her arm felt very
+tired. How could mamma do it so fast, without stopping one bit?
+
+A bright thought seized Patty, as bright as all those dozen-dozen
+candles burning in a row.
+
+"Guess I'll dip 'em slow; then there'll be more tallow stick on."
+
+Strange mamma hadn't thought of that herself; but mammas can't think of
+everything, they have so much to do. Patty swayed a rod full of candles
+from side to side in the kettle, not perceiving that they were melting
+to their heart's cores. When she took them out they dripped great tears,
+and as she held them up, wondering why they hadn't grown any, the
+kitchen door opened, and some one walked in.
+
+Who it was Patty could not see, for her face was turned away; but what
+if it should be brother James, and he should call out,
+
+"Well, Snippet, up to mischief, hey?"
+
+The very thought of such a speech frightened her so that she set her row
+of candles across the chairs in great haste, hitting them against
+another row, where they stuck fast.
+
+"Good evening, miss," said a strange voice.
+
+Patty turned her head, and there, instead of James, stood a handsome
+young gentleman she had never seen before. She knew at once it must be
+the new teacher.
+
+The first thing she did was to seize a row of candles, hit or miss, and
+dashed them into the kettle.
+
+"Beg pardon. I'm afraid I've come to the wrong door," said the stranger,
+bowing very low, and trying his best not to smile.
+
+"O, no, sir; yes, sir; thank you," replied bewildered Patty, almost
+plunging head first into the kettle. But instead of that she suddenly
+straightened up, and popped in another row of candles.
+
+Mr. Starbird was so amused by the little creature's quick and
+kitten-like motions that he stood still and watched her. He thought he
+had never seen so funny a sight before.
+
+"He smiles just as _cheerfully_," mused Miss Patty, with an airy toss of
+the head. "Guess he thinks I'm smart! Guess he thinks he'll put me in
+the C'lumby Norter [Columbian Orator] first thing _he_ does! Big girl
+like this, sitting up so straight, working like a woman!"
+
+With that she rocked forward, and nearly lost her balance; but no harm
+was done; she only pushed the kettle half way off the board.
+
+The gentleman thought it was about time to interfere, and let some of
+the family know what the child was doing.
+
+"Will you please point the way to the parlor, little miss?" said he,
+with a bewitching smile.
+
+Patty slid from her seat, and, in her confusion, was aiming straight for
+the cellar door, when, alas! alas! one of her feet got caught in the
+rounds of the chair, and she tumbled out headlong. In trying to save
+herself, she put forth both hands, and struck against the kettle, which
+was already tipsy, and of course turned over.
+
+It was a critical moment. Mr. Starbird saw the kettle coming, and had
+the presence of mind to spring the other way. A flood of hot water and
+tallow was pouring over the floor, and little Patty screaming lustily.
+
+Mr. Starbird thought she was scalding to death, and instead of taking
+care of himself, turned about to save her. But before he could reach
+her, she had darted through the bar-room door and disappeared--without
+so much as a blotch of tallow on her shoes.
+
+Gallant Mr. Starbird did not get off so well. His foot slipped on the
+oily floor, and down he fell. Before he could get up the whole household
+had come to the rescue, Rachel and John bringing tin dippers, and Mrs.
+Lyman a mop; but Dorcas a roll of linen, for she knew the stranger must
+be scalded.
+
+He tried to make the best of it, poor man; and while Dorcas was doing up
+both his blistered hands, he smiled on her almost as "cheerfully" as he
+had smiled on the little candle-dipper. He found it very pleasant to
+look at Dorcas. Everybody liked to look at her. She had a rare, sweet
+face, as delicate as a white snowdrop just touched with pink, and she
+did know how to do up sore fingers beautifully; she had practised it on
+every one of the children.
+
+Patty was so sorry and ashamed that she crept to bed in the dark, and
+cried herself to sleep.
+
+The next morning that unpainted kitchen floor was a sight to behold, and
+Rachel said she did not think it would ever come clean again.
+
+"See what I found in the kettle," said she.
+
+Two rows of little withered candles, all worn out, and crooked besides.
+
+"Did I do that too?" said Patty.
+
+"I should think you did. What mischief will you be up to next?" said
+Rachel, sharply.
+
+"But, but, mamma _said_ I might dip."
+
+"Why, yes, so I did," said the much-enduring mother, suddenly
+remembering her own words. "Well, well, Rachel, we won't be too hard on
+Patience. I'll warrant she'll never try this caper again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+MR. STARBIRD'S DREAM.
+
+
+Mr. Starbird began the school with his hands in mittens; but for all
+that he governed the big boys without the least effort. His blisters
+were so troublesome that he had to go to Squire Lyman's every day to
+have them done up, and in that way Patty grew very well acquainted with
+him. Before spring the whole family felt as if they had always known
+him, and Mrs. Lyman called him Frank, because she and his mother had
+been "girls together." Dorcas did not call him Frank, but they were
+remarkably good friends.
+
+After the winter school was done, Mr. Starbird still staid at
+Perseverance, studying law with Mr. Chase, and boarding at Squire
+Lyman's. He was a very funny man, always saying and doing strange
+things; and that brings me round at last to Patty's dollar.
+
+One evening Patty was so tired with picking up chips that she went and
+threw herself into her mother's arms, saying, "Why don't the boys stick
+the axe clear through the wood, mamma; then there wouldn't be chips to
+bother folks."
+
+For a wonder Mrs. Lyman was sitting down without any work in her hands,
+and could stop to stroke Patty's hair and kiss her "lips like snips of
+scarlet," which made the little girl happier than anything else in the
+world. Mr. Starbird sat in a large armchair, holding a skein of yarn for
+Dorcas, who sat in a small rocking-chair, winding it.
+
+"Mrs. Lyman," said Mr. Starbird, "do you believe in dreams?"
+
+"Indeed, I do not," replied Mrs. Lyman. "Why do you ask?"
+
+"Well, I don't believe in them myself any more than you do, Mrs. Lyman.
+But I did have such a very singular dream last night!"
+
+"Do tell us what it was," said Dorcas.
+
+"Certainly, if you like," said Mr. Starbird; "but I--but I don't know
+about it; is it best to speak of such things before Patty?"
+
+"Yes, you must, Mr. Starbird," cried Patty, springing up eagerly. "_I_
+won't tell anybody, long's I live."
+
+Mr. Starbird laughed.
+
+"Well, in the first place, Mrs. Lyman, let me ask you if you lost any
+money ever so long ago?"
+
+"Yes, I lost a twenty-dollar gold piece last summer."
+
+"Yes; and me, too. I had a silver dollar, 'n' I lost it," cried Patty.
+
+"How strange!" said Mr. Starbird. "So my dream does have some sense in
+it. Excuse me, Mrs. Lyman; but will you tell me where you kept the
+money?"
+
+"In my black silk pocket; but the pocket went too."
+
+"And I suppose you have hunted everywhere for it."
+
+"Of course we have," said Dorcas. "I guess you'd think so, Mr. Starbird;
+why, we've turned this house upside down."
+
+"To be sure. Well, I'd like to ask another question, Mrs. Lyman. Did you
+ever think that woman that is about here so much--Siller Noonin, I
+believe they call her--could have taken the money?"
+
+"O, no, indeed, Francis; we consider Priscilla an honest woman."
+
+"That was not what I meant to say, Mrs. Lyman. What I was going to ask
+was this: Wasn't there a funny old man here at the time you lost the
+money? and didn't Siller Noonin say that either he stole the money or
+she did?"
+
+Mrs. Lyman looked surprised.
+
+"Yes; there was a little old man at the house in haying-time, and I
+believe Priscilla did say she thought--"
+
+"Yes, mother," broke in Dorcas; "and he was sitting out on the fence
+when she said it, and we were afraid he heard; but how did you know
+that, Mr. Starbird? It didn't come to you in your dream?"
+
+"Ah, Miss Dorcas, you are beginning to be curious; but when I go on to
+tell you more, you will open your eyes wider yet. I never saw that
+little old man, Mrs. Lyman, and never heard you speak of him; but I
+dreamed I was husking corn in your barn, and a man about as tall as your
+Mary--"
+
+Just then Mary, and Moses, and George, and Silas, and John, and Rachel
+came into the room, followed by William Parlin; and Mr. Starbird had to
+begin at the beginning and tell as far as this all over again.
+
+"A man as tall, perhaps, as Mary, with hair the color of pumpkin and
+milk, limped up to me--"
+
+"Why, mother, why, Rachel, his hair _was_ all yellow and white," said
+Moses.
+
+"Well, so I said," pursued Mr. Starbird. "And there were red rings round
+his eyes, and he had a turn-up nose, and hands all covered with warts."
+
+"Mr. Starbird, you must have seen Israel Crossman," said Mrs. Lyman, who
+had stopped rocking in her surprise.
+
+"Israel Crossman! That was the very name he spoke as he limped into the
+barn. I declare, Mrs. Lyman, this is growing more and more mysterious;
+but I never saw Israel Crossman; I give you my word."
+
+"How very strange!" said Dorcas; "but do make haste and finish, for I am
+getting all of a tremble."
+
+"Me, too," cried Patty, clinging close to her mother's neck.
+
+"Well, the old man sidled along to me, and said he,--
+
+"'I'm Isr'el Crossman; and look here: me and Squire Lyman's two hired
+men and (I've forgotten the other name) got in hay into this ere barn
+last summer. Squire Lyman's folks used me well; but there's one thing
+that's laid heavy on my mind. Mrs. Lyman lost a gold piece while I was
+here--'"
+
+"Yes, and me a silver dollar," cried Patty.
+
+"'And it distressed me bad,' said Israel, 'for Siller Noonin up and said
+that either she stole it, or I did. But it's come to me lately,' said
+Israel, 'what must have 'come of that money! I never took it; bless you,
+I never stole a pin! But I see that little Patty to play out in the barn
+with one of her rag babies.'"
+
+"O, I never," exclaimed Patty.
+
+"Don't interrupt," whispered one of the twins, deeply interested.
+
+"You know I am only telling a silly dream, my dear," said Mr. Starbird.
+"This little man said he saw Patty playing on the scaffold before the
+hay was got into the barn, and she had something round her doll's neck
+that looked like a pocket. He didn't know any more than that; but he
+'sort of mistrusted' that she might have left the doll on the scaffold,
+and the men might have pitched hay right on top of it."
+
+"Sure enough," exclaimed Dorcas, with a nervous laugh; "who knows but
+she did?"
+
+"Have you lost a doll, Patty?" asked William Parlin.
+
+"No; I never."
+
+"O, she doesn't know when she loses dolls," said Rachel; "she always
+keeps more than a dozen or so on hand."
+
+"Well, I was going to say," continued Mr. Starbird, "you could easily
+find out whether there was any meaning to my dream. If there _is_ a doll
+up there on the scaffold, the hay is getting so low you could scrape
+round and find it."
+
+"That's so," cried the twins.
+
+"Not that it's really worth while, either," added Mr. Starbird; "for, as
+I said, it was only--"
+
+"But there isn't the least harm in going out to see," said Mary and the
+twins, and William Parlin, all in a breath, as they started on a run for
+the barn. Patty slipped down from her mother's arms and followed.
+
+"Me! Me! Let me go first," she cried. And before any one else could do
+it, her swift little feet were mounting the ladder, and next minute
+tripping over the scaffold.
+
+"O, look! O, catch! Here it is! Here is my dolly all up in the corner,
+and here's a pocket round her neck!"
+
+Dorcas, who was always rather nervous, sat on the barn floor and laughed
+and cried herself into such a state that Mr. Starbird had to give her
+his arm to help her back to the house.
+
+There was a great time, you may be sure, when Patty shook the pocket
+before everybody's eyes, and James rang the twenty-dollar piece on the
+brick hearth to make sure it was good gold. Dorcas was so excited that
+pink spots came in both her cheeks, and even James did not know what to
+think. Betsey Gould started right off to Dr. Potter's, where Siller
+Noonin happened to be, to tell Siller the story. Dorcas kept having
+little spasms of laughing and crying, and the whole household had rather
+a frightened look; for it was the most marvellous dream they ever heard
+of.
+
+"Well, mother, what do you think now of dreams?" said Moses. "Guess
+you'll have to give it up."
+
+Mrs. Lyman had been in her bedroom to put the gold piece into her
+drawer, and she now came back and took up her stocking-basket, as if
+nothing had happened.
+
+"I will tell you to-morrow what I think of dreams, Moses.--Hush, Patty,
+I am afraid we shall be sorry you found your dollar, if it makes you so
+noisy."
+
+Mr. Starbird went up to the table where Mrs. Lyman sat, pretending to be
+looking for the shears, but really to get a peep at the lady's eyes. At
+any rate, he did not go away till he had made her look at him, and then
+they both smiled, and Mrs. Lyman said, in a very low voice,--
+
+"Francis, you have kept up the joke long enough."
+
+Frank nodded and went back to the settle.
+
+"James," said he, "you are the wise one of the family; I wish you would
+tell me how you account for my dream."
+
+"Can't account for it," said James, shaking his head; "don't pretend
+to."
+
+"Well, then, if you can't," returned Mr. Starbird, looking very
+innocent, "perhaps you can tell me what day of the month it is?"
+
+There was a general uproar then.
+
+"Have you been making fools of us, Frank Starbird?" cried James and
+Rachel, seizing him, one by the hair, the other by the ears.
+
+"April Fools! April Fools!" exclaimed all the children together,--all
+except Dorcas.
+
+"It's the best fool I ever heard of," said William Parlin; "but how did
+you do it, sir?"
+
+"Yes, explain yourself," said James and Rachel. "Was mother in the
+secret?"
+
+"No; but Dorcas was. Let go my hair, James, and I'll speak.--Fact is, I
+happened to find that rag baby out there on the scaffold this afternoon
+with that pocket on its neck, and so I dreamed a dream to suit myself."
+
+"Yes," said Dorcas; "and I told him just how Israel Crossman looked, and
+all about Siller Noonin, and didn't he say it off like a book?"
+
+"Wasn't it a dream, then?" asked little Patty.
+
+"No, dear; it was only nonsense."
+
+"Well, then, I didn't put my dolly out there,--did I?"
+
+"Yes, of course you did," said her mother; "only you have forgotten it."
+
+But Patty looked puzzled. She could not recollect that ever so long ago,
+the day the beggar girl came to the house, she had cured Polly Dolly
+Adaline's sore throat with her mother's quilted pocket, and then had
+carried the sick dolly out to the barn, "so she could get well faster
+where there wasn't any noise."
+
+No, Patty could not recollect this, and the whole thing was a mystery to
+her.
+
+"Children," said Mrs. Lyman, looking up from her stockings, as soon as
+there was a chance to speak, "I have one word to say on this subject:
+whenever you hear of signs and wonders, don't believe in them till
+you've sifted them to the bottom. And when you've done that, mark my
+words, you'll find there's no more substance to them than there is to
+Francis Starbird's April Fool Dream."
+
+"True," said Rachel and James; and then, as half a dozen of the younger
+ones had gone out, they had a quiet talk, five or six of them, round the
+fire, and Patty went to sleep sitting on Mr. Starbird's knee.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+SPINNING.
+
+
+So Patty had her dollar back; and now what to do with it was the
+question. She thought of a great many things to buy, but always grew
+tired of them before she had fairly made up her mind.
+
+At last she went to her mother, and said, "Mamma, I'm only a little
+girl, and don't know much; won't you please tell me what to get?"
+
+"Do you really wish me to decide for you, my dear? And will you be
+satisfied with my choice?"
+
+"Yes, mamma, I truly will be satisfied. But--but--you don't want to
+give my dollar to the heathens--do you? It's all clear silver, and I
+s'pect _coppers_ just as good for those heathens, mamma."
+
+"What makes you think copper is just as good, my child?"
+
+"Because that's what people put into the box; and when they put any
+silver in, it's in little bits of pieces. I don't s'pect the heathens
+know the difference."
+
+Mrs. Lyman smiled, though at the same time she was sorry to think how
+selfish people are, and how little they are willing to give away.
+
+"Let me ask you a question, dear. How would you like to have me carry
+this dollar to Mrs. Chase and Mrs. Potter, and tell them my little girl
+sent it for them to give to some poor child?"
+
+Patty looked up in surprise.
+
+"If you are going to give it to a poor child, mamma, can't you do it
+'thout telling folks?"
+
+"Yes, I could. I didn't know, though, but you'd like to have Mrs. Potter
+and Mrs. Chase hear of it."
+
+A pink blush crept over Patty's face, and away up to the top of her
+forehead.
+
+"O, mamma, I don't! I don't!"
+
+"Well, I believe you, my dear. You have seen a little of the folly of
+trying to show off. And that reminds me--Yes, I have a very good idea;
+and when your papa goes to Augusta next week, I will send your dollar,
+and have him buy you something you can always keep."
+
+Patty liked the sound of that, and when her father came home from
+Augusta with a little round trunk in his hands, she could hardly wait
+for him to get into the house. He had brought her a little red Bible,
+with clasp covers. It was the first whole Bible she had ever owned. She
+was much pleased, and has kept the little book all these years, though
+its beauty is quite gone by this time. It is very precious to her,
+because these words are on one of the fly-leaves in her dear mother's
+own writing: "Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen
+of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven."
+
+Time passed on, and on, and on. Patty's wrists grew so strong that she
+was trusted to milk a small red cow, though she must still have been
+quite a little girl, for she could not remember which was the cow's
+right side, and had to mark her bag with a piece of chalk. Very soon she
+had two cows to milk, just as Mary and Moses had; and Moses, who was an
+early bird, used to wake her from a sound sleep by calling out, "Come,
+come, Patty! Dr. Chase's cows are out! Mary and I have milked! Up, up,
+Patty! Why don't you start?"
+
+Patty thought it was very hard to be called so early in the morning.
+What did she care for Dr. Chase's cows? She was tired of hearing Moses
+talk about them. Poor little creature! She always ran down stairs,
+rubbing her eyes, and her mother comforted her by saying,--
+
+"Never mind it. After you have milked your cows and turned them out, you
+may go to bed again, my dear, and have another nap."
+
+Patty always thought she would do it; but after the work was done, she
+was no longer sleepy, and did not wish to go to bed.
+
+When she was ten years old, she learned to spin cotton. Her mother
+first carded it into rolls, and then Patty "roped" it, and spun it on a
+wheel; but the spindle was so high up that she was obliged to have a
+board to walk back and forth upon. She liked it as well as any other
+work, for she had a "knack" at spinning; but the older she grew, the
+less time she had for play. Her mother, though very kind to her
+children, did not seem to think it made much difference whether they
+played or not. She never praised Patty; but once the little girl
+overheard her telling some ladies that her youngest daughter was a
+"natural worker," and "the smartest child she had." Of course that
+pleased Patty very much, and afterwards she was brisker than ever.
+
+Her stint was three skeins of cotton a day; and sometimes, when she was
+spinning it, Linda Chase would come up in the chamber and look on.
+Linda could not draw a thread without pulling the cotton all to pieces,
+and it amazed her to see Patty's spindle whirl so fast; for it went at a
+wonderful rate, especially when any one was looking on.
+
+"I'm spinning warp for my new gown," said Patty; "and Rachel is going to
+weave it."
+
+"What color will it be?"
+
+"Blue and copperas, in little checks," replied Patty.
+
+Linda knew what copperas color was,--it was a dull yellow.
+
+"'Twill only be for me to go to school in," explained Patty. "I shall
+have it for my _not-very-best_. By and by I'm going to learn how to spin
+linen on that little flax-wheel, and Rachel will weave me some
+table-cloths, and sheets, and pillow-cases, just as she does for
+Dorcas. Guess why she weaves them for Dorcas."
+
+"I'm sure I can't guess. Because she wants to, I suppose."
+
+"Look here--it's a secret. Dorcas is going to be married by and by, and
+that is the reason Mr. Starbird comes here on that white-faced horse. He
+doesn't come to see the rest of us; he comes to see Dorcas."
+
+Patty stopped her wheel in her eagerness.
+
+"Yes; and you know, when I was a little speck of a girl, I spilled some
+hot tallow over, and burnt his hand; and he says that is the reason he
+is going to marry Dorcas."
+
+"What! because you burnt his hand?"
+
+"Yes. I don't see why that made him like Dorcas," said Patty,
+reflectively; "but that's what he said. And then I shall have eight
+brothers; won't it be nice?"
+
+"Does Betsey Potter know?"
+
+"Yes. I told her."
+
+"Well, I should have thought you might have told me first," said Linda,
+pouting. "I don't like it very well to have you tell me last."
+
+"O, I told Betsey first because she came first. I never heard of it
+myself till this morning," said Patty, innocently.
+
+She was never known to keep a secret twenty-four hours.
+
+The idea of a wedding in the family was perfectly delightful to the
+little girl, and after this she used to watch for Mr. Starbird every
+third week, just as regularly as Dorcas did, and was almost as much
+pleased when she saw him coming on his white-faced horse.
+
+It was so nice to think of having more brothers; for as yet poor Patty
+had only seven!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THE BRASS KETTLE.
+
+
+There was a great time that year preparing for Thanksgiving. It seemed
+as if the tall clock had never ticked so fast before, nor the full moon
+smiled down from the top of it with such a jolly face.
+
+"It's going to be what you may call a sort of a double Thanksgiving,"
+said Moses.
+
+"Why?" asked Patty. "Because there'll be double turkeys and double
+puddings?"
+
+"No, Patty Lyman! Don't you remember what's going to happen before
+dinner?"
+
+"O, you mean the wedding! I knew that ever so long ago."
+
+Patty had heard of it the day before.
+
+"Equal to Fourth of July and training-day put together," remarked Moses,
+snatching a handful of raisins out of the bowl Mary held in her lap.
+
+"Yes," said Patty, leaving off her spice-pounding long enough to clap
+her hands; "it's splendid!"
+
+"I don't see how you can say so," said the thoughtful Mary, "when our
+dear sister Dorcas is going 'way off, and never'll live at home any
+more!"
+
+"Yes, I know it," responded Patty, looking as serious as she could, for
+Mary was wiping her eyes on her apron. "It's dreadful! O, how bad I
+feel!"
+
+The kitchen was so full you could hardly turn around. Everybody was
+there but Dorcas, and she was finishing off her wedding-dress. Mrs.
+Lyman was stuffing two large turkeys; Betsey was making brown bread;
+Moses chopping mince-meat; and those who had nothing else to do were
+talking. Aunt Hannah was there, helping Rachel make the wedding-cake;
+but the trouble was with aunt Hannah that she couldn't come without
+bringing her baby; and there he was, rolling about the floor like a soft
+bundle of yellow flannel--a nice, fat baby, with a ruffled cap on his
+head. He was named Job, after his father, who had borne that name
+through a long life, and been very patient about it.
+
+"Now, Patty," said Rachel, "I see you've stopped pounding cloves, and I
+wish you'd take care of this baby; he is rolling up towards the molasses
+jug, and will tip it over next thing he does."
+
+Patty had only stopped pounding for half a minute. It seemed to her that
+her right hand always had a mortar-pestle in it. She ran now to get
+some playthings for Job--a string of earthen-ware beads, and a pewter
+plate to hold them when he should break the string; and a squash-shell,
+filled with peas,--just as good as a rattle, let me tell you. Then she
+sat on the floor, making baby-talk with the little creature, who has
+since that been somebody's grandfather.
+
+Patty always meant well, and now she was really able to help a great
+deal. At ten years old she was quite a tall girl, though what the
+country-folks called rather "slim." Her dress was made of thick cotton
+and woollen goods, all rough with little knobs,--the same Rachel had
+woven in "blue and copperas checks."
+
+Patty soon tired of amusing Job. She wanted to do something of more
+importance.
+
+"I should think I might chop mince-meat instead of you, Moses. There,
+now, you're getting it so fine 'twill be poison."
+
+Aunt Hannah heard that and laughed.
+
+"That child takes everything in earnest," said she. "I told Moses if he
+got the mince-meat _too_ fine, 'twould be poisonous; but I never saw any
+mince-meat that _was_ too fine--did you, Rachel?"
+
+"Mary," said Mrs. Lyman, "if you please, you may poke up the coals now.
+George, you'll have to move round, and let her get to the oven."
+
+"I'll attend to it myself," said George, rising from his chair, at one
+end of the big fireplace, and stirring the glowing coals in the brick
+oven with the hard-wood "poking-stick."
+
+"Now, if you'll all keep still," said James, "I'll read you something
+from the newspaper."
+
+Moses dropped his chopping-knife, Mary looked frightened, and Patty
+stopped shaking the squash-shell. They knew it would never do to make a
+noise while James was reading.
+
+"My son, my son," pleaded Mrs. Lyman, turning round from her turkey, and
+shaking her darning-needle at him, "you wouldn't try to read in all this
+confusion? Wait till we get a little over our hurry. Go to the
+end-cupboard, and fetch me a couple of good, stout strings; I want these
+turkeys all ready to tie on the nails."
+
+She was going to roast them before the fire. That was the way they
+cooked turkeys in old times.
+
+"And, Betsey," said Mrs. Lyman, "you may as well go to work on the
+doughnuts. Make half a bushel or more."
+
+"What about the _riz_ bread?" said Betsey.
+
+"I should think a dozen loaves would be enough," replied Mrs. Lyman, who
+was now beginning to make a suet pudding.
+
+You see they meant to have plenty of food, for beside their own large
+family, they expected twenty or thirty guests to dinner day after
+to-morrow.
+
+"O, mother!" exclaimed Mary, "I'm afraid you're not making that pudding
+thick enough. Siller Noonin says the pudding-stick ought to stand
+alone."
+
+"Priscilla is thinking of the old Connecticut Blue Laws about mush,"
+replied Mrs. Lyman, smiling; "we don't mind the blue laws up here in
+Maine. And this isn't mush, either; it's suet pudding.--Solomon, my son,
+you may go into the shed-chamber, and bring me a bag of hops; we must
+have some beer starting."
+
+Betsey swung the frying-kettle on the crane, and had just turned away,
+when the baby crept up, and tipped over sick George's basin of
+pussy-willow and cider, which was steeping in one corner of the
+fireplace. There was no harm done, only Job lost his patience, and
+cried, and for five minutes there was a perfect Bedlam of baby-screams,
+chopping-knives, and mortar-pestles, and in the midst of it, the sound
+of the hired men winnowing grain in the barn.
+
+But there could hardly be too much noise for Patty. I presume she was
+never happier in her life than on the Monday and Tuesday before
+Thanksgiving; but Wednesday came, and it rained in torrents.
+
+"Will they be married if it doesn't clear off?" said she.
+
+"You do ask the funniest questions," replied Rachel. "Just as if Mr.
+Starbird would stay away from his own wedding on account of the
+weather!"
+
+It rained all night; but Thursday morning the sun came rushing through
+the clouds, his face all aglow with smiles, and put an end to such
+dismal business. Patty looked out of the window, and watched the clouds
+scampering away to hide, and whispered in her heart to the little birds
+that were left in the maple trees,--
+
+"How kind God is to give us a good wedding-day!"
+
+About ten o'clock the guests began to come, and among the first was Mr.
+Starbird. Patty had never seen him look so fine as he did when he stood
+up with her dear sister Dorcas to be married. He wore a blue coat, and a
+beautiful ruffled shirt, and his shoe-buckles--so Moses said--were of
+solid silver. Why he needed gloves in the house, Patty could not
+imagine; but there they were on his hands,--white kids at that.
+
+Dorcas was quite as fine as the bridegroom. She had no veil, but her
+high-topped comb sat on her head like a crown, and there was a
+wonderfully rich stomacher of embroidered lace in the neck of her dress.
+Such a dress! It shimmered in the sun like a dove's wings, for it was of
+changeable silk, the costliest affair, Patty thought, that a bride ever
+wore. It was fastened at the back like a little girl's frock, and the
+waist was no longer than the waist of a baby's slip.
+
+Patty took great pride in looking at her beautiful sister, from the top
+of her shell comb to the tips of her white slippers, which were just the
+size of Patty's own.
+
+The ceremony was as long as a common sermon; and it would have been
+longer yet, if Elder Lovejoy had been there to perform it. He was sick,
+and this man, who came in his place, did not speak in a sing-song tone;
+Patty was not sure it was quite right to do without that. He was young
+and diffident. Patty knew he trembled, for she could see his coat-flaps
+shake; and she can see them shake now, every time she thinks of the
+wedding.
+
+There is something else she can see; and, as I don't believe you ever
+heard of such a thing, I must tell you.
+
+After the dinner of turkeys, roast beef, mince pies, apple pies, pumpkin
+pies, plum and suet pudding, doughnuts, cheese, and every other good
+thing you can think of, the children went into the back room for a
+frolic. There were aunt Hannah's three oldest girls, and uncle Joshua's
+four big boys, William Parlin and his sister Love, and a few more.
+
+While they were there, just beginning a game of blindfold, the bride
+came out in her travelling-dress, with her young husband, to say good
+by. Mary fell to crying, the twins had tears in their eyes, and it would
+have been a very sober time, if Rachel had not called out, in her brisk
+way,--
+
+"All step round to the sides of the room, and let me have the middle!"
+
+People always minded Rachel; so she had the floor at once, though no one
+could think what she meant to do, when she brought along a big brass
+kettle, the very one in which Patty had dipped those unfortunate
+candles, and set it upon a board, in the middle of the floor.
+
+"Now, my friends," said she, courtesying, "you all know I am the oldest
+daughter, and it isn't fair that my younger sister should be married
+before I am; do you think it is?"
+
+"No, no; not at all," said uncle Joshua's four boys, laughing.
+
+"And I don't see," added Rachel, with another courtesy,--"I don't see
+how Mr. Starbird happened to make such a strange mistake as to choose
+Dorcas instead of me!"
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Starbird, bowing very low, "I never'll do
+so again."
+
+"But since the deed is done," said Rachel, "and cannot be undone, I
+shall be obliged to dance in the brass kettle. That's what ladies do
+whose younger sisters are married first."
+
+Then, with quite a sober face, she mounted a wooden cricket, stepped
+into the kettle, and began to dance.
+
+There was not room to take many steps; but she balanced herself very
+gracefully, and sung, keeping time with her feet.
+
+Rachel was one of the brightest, wittiest young ladies in Perseverance,
+and this performance of hers amused the bride and bridegroom, and
+everybody else but little Patty. Patty took it all in earnest. She had
+never heard before of the funny ceremony of dancing in a brass kettle,
+and wondered if it had anything to do with those candles of hers.
+
+"Mr. Starbird likes Dorcas better than he does Rachel," thought the
+little girl, "and that was why he asked her to marry him. I should think
+Rachel might know that! She says he made a mistake; but he didn't! If
+Rachel feels so bad, I shouldn't think she would tell of it. Poor Mr.
+Starbird! He'll be so sorry! and Dorcas will be so sorry! O, I wish
+Rachel hadn't told--"
+
+"Why, Patty, what makes you look so sober?" asked William Parlin. "You
+look as if Master Purple had been feruling you."
+
+But Patty was ashamed to let any one know the trouble in her mind; and
+after the bride and bridegroom had gone, she ran away by herself to cry;
+and that is all she remembers of the wedding.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Is it really grandma Parlin you have been writing about?" says Prudy.
+
+"It doesn't seem much like it; for here she sits, with her cap and
+spectacles on, knitting a stocking. Please take off your cap, grandma,
+so we can think how you looked when you were a little girl."
+
+Mrs. Parlin took it off, but it didn't make any difference, for her hair
+was grayer still without the lace.
+
+"That isn't the way, children," said aunt Madge; "you'll have to
+imagine how she looked; or, as Fly would say, you must make believe.
+Touch her hair with gold. There, see how it shines! Take off those
+spectacles; smooth out the wrinkles; make her face as soft as a
+rose-leaf, as soft as your face, Fly; dwindle her figure down, down,
+till she looks about ten years old. Now do you see her? Isn't she
+pretty? How the sparkles come and go in her eyes! Wouldn't you like to
+have a romp with her in the new-mown hay? For she hasn't any more
+rheumatism in her back than a butterfly. Her feet are dancing this
+minute in pink kid slippers with rosettes on them as big as poppies, and
+she wears a white muslinet gown, with a pink calico petticoat. Wasn't
+that the way she was dressed at the wedding, father Parlin?"
+
+"How should I know?" replies grandpa. "I don't remember what she had
+on; but she was the spryest, prettiest little girl in town; and she
+hasn't a child--no, nor a grandchild either--that begins to be equal to
+her."
+
+"Except Flyaway," cries Prudy; "you forget that Flyaway is just like
+her!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+This is not a bad place to leave our friends. I did intend to tell about
+another member of the circle; but I believe I will not, for I may put
+him into another story; that is, if you would like to hear about William
+Parlin,--I wonder if you would?--in a book we will call "LITTLE
+GRANDFATHER."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Grandmother, by Sophie May
+
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