i lii

YaleUni'iiersiti/Libraf!

39002004866027

dill. 197

DE

I give thefe Books
for the founding of a, CoUege. in this Colonf

Bought with the income
of the
Ann S. Farnam Fund
nn

Carol A. Stickney, Aged Fourteen

A Daughter of the
Puritans
An Autobiography

By
Caroline A. Stickney Greevey
Author of "Recreations in Botany," "Flowers
of Field, Hill, and Swamp," "Harper's
Guide to Wild Flowers," etc.

Illustrated

G. P. Putnam's Sons
New York and London
(Ube fcnicfterbocRet preee
1916

Copyright, 1916
BY
CAROLINE A. STICKNEY CREEVEY
Ci 77. 197

Ube finicliCTboclter press, 'new ffiorli

MY SON
WILLIAM STICKNEY CREEVEY
AND MY DAUGHTER
ELIZABETH HALE CREEVEY
THIS RECORD OF THEIR MOTHER'S EARLY LIFE
IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED

"Everybody experiences the wonderful, the re
freshing tenderness that Memory shows when she
touches the things of our early youth, our home and
the gracious presences that peopled it. For the poor
est of us Memory treasures a golden age. Memory
takes the common, purges, clarifies, ennobles, trans
figures it ; and the ordinary life of an ordinary boy
(or girl) becomes to him, after forty ordinary years
have passed, a thing of crystalline radiance."— Henry
Dwight Sedgwick.

CONTENTS

I.-

—Foreword

PAGE I

II.-

—My Parents

4

III.-

—Childhood

7

IV.-

—Infancy ....

13

V.-

—Play-Time and Dawnings of
Conscience .

15

VI.-

—Punishment

22

VII.-

—The New House

25

VIIL-

—My Mother

28

IX.-

—The Puritan Sunday

34

X.-

—Missionaries .

40

XI.-

—In Church

43

XII.-

—The Unpardonable Sin .

51

XIII.-

—Julia and her Stories

55

XIV.-

—What Katy Did

66

XV.-

—The Three Bears .

71

XVI.-

—A Broken Arm

74

XVII.-

—Mattie and I Fall into thi

:

Water and are nearly
Drowned .... 76

vill

CONTENTS

PAGE
XVIII. — Aunt Hannah . . . . 8o
XIX. — Disciplining Aunt Hannah . 86
XX. — Bears and Other Beasties . 88
XXI. — Theft and its Consequences . 93
XXII.— Family Life .... 98
XXIII. — A Cure for Warts . . .103
XXIV. — Bees and Billy . . . 106
XXV.— A May-Day Party . . .111
XXVI. — Thanksgiving Day . . .116
XXVIL— Fast Day . . .121
XXVIII. — Death of my Little Sister . 127
XXIX. — Uniting with the Church . 131
XXX. — Religious Impressions . . 135
XXXI. — Medical Practice . . -139
XXXII. — ^Visit to New York . . 143
XXXIII.— The High School . . .147
XXXIV. — Influence of Revolutionary
Times ..... 156
XXXV. — Extracts from my Journal . 160
XXXVI. — Biblical Instruction . .169
XXXVII. — More of the Journal . -175
XXXVIII. — My Youngest Sister . .183

CONTENTS ix

PAGB

XXXIX. — Attempt to Frighten me . 187
XL. — The Year in Bangor, with
my Uncle .... 193
XLI. — The Bangor High School . 198
XLII. — Extracts from the Journal . 204
XLIII. — A School Incident . . .215
XLIV. — Entrance into Wheaton Semi
nary ..... 221
XLV. — Contest with my Parents . 230
XLVI. — The Religious Atmosphere of
Wheaton Seminary . . 235
XLVII. — Sanctification and Holiness . 241
XLVIII. — Missionary Aspirations
Quenched .... 247
XLIX. — Yellow-Covered Literature . 255
L. — The New Principle . . 260

ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Carol A. Stickney, Aged Fourteen
Frontispiece
Facsimile of my Grandfather's Announce
ment to his Wife's Mother, of the
Birth of my Mother, Mary Hale . 6
The Stickney Home in Rockville, Conn. . 7
Mr. and Mrs. John Newton Stickney . 28
From a daguerreotype taken about 1850.
Order of Exercises at the Quarterly
Meeting of the Tolland County Tem
perance Society, South Coventry, Dec.
25, 1835  48
Programme of the First Concert of the
"Harmonic Union" at the 2nd Con
gregational Church, on Tuesday Even
ing, Sept. 27, 1853 . . . 48
Programme of the Little Folks' Concert
Given by the "Rosebud Vocalists," at
THE 1ST Congregational Church, Wednes
day Evening, Oct. 25, 1854 . . 48
Mrs. Aurelia M. Stebbins .... ,49.
Carol and Mattie, Aged Six and Four 77

xii ILLUSTRATIONS PAGB
Mr. Webb, Missionary from Madras . loi
Mrs. Lydia Hale Devan, Missionary to
China ....... 102
My Sister Jane, Aged Five . .186
Carol A. Stickney, Aged Sixteen . -193
Thomas Gage Stickney . . . -194
Mrs. Caroline C. Metcalf, Principal of
Wheaton Seminary for Twenty-five
Years ...... 225
Miss Lucy Larcom, Teacher of English in
Wheaton Seminary .... 226
Miss Cutler  227
Miss Maria Mellus ..... 229
Mr. Fuller, Teacher of Music in Wheaton
Seminary  240
Mrs. Caroline A. S. Creevey . . . 262
Taken soon after marriage.
Latest Photograph of Mrs. Creevey . 265

A Daughter of the Puritans

A DAUGHTER OF THE
PURITANS

foreword

Nearly two generations have passed since 1
was a child. During this time great and remark
able changes have taken place in the religious
training of children, owing, principally, to a partial
loss of faith in a future, and consequent difference
of view in regard to this life. The tendency to-day
is to say, this life we know and therefore we will
get all we can out of it. The life after death has
never been proved by the return of the dead.
Perhaps it exists only in our imagination which we
call faith and this has weakened with the advent
of luxury, with the material progress of the nine
teenth century, with the discoveries of science,
with the consequent loss of reverence for the Bible

2 A DAUGHTER OP THE PURITANS
as the verbally inspired and undisputed Word of
God, and with the prospect of more and happier
years this side of the grave. Once poverty and
misfortune counted for nothing here, with the
celestial city in sight. In fact it would be worth
while to be poor and unsuccessful here, since
there was to be an evening up of lives there.
In the parable of Dives and Lazarus, the
former "received his good things in this life, and
Lazarus evil things." "But now," the parable
adds, "he is comforted and thou art in anguish."
The fact is that when science destroyed the crea
tion of the world in six days the comer-stone of
the old, unquestioning faith was knocked out, and
the edifice has been crumbling ever since. ^
It is to show the strictness and severity of my
early training, as well as to portray the ordinary
life of a New England girl in the middle of the last
century, that I am reviewing my childhood.
If some of my "experiences" and the extracts
from my "diary" seem impossible as judged by
the children of this age, I wish to emphasize
that they are not in the least particular overdrawn.
'To-day, however, the edifice has been reconstructed, since
leamed Christian scholars have, by reverent criticism and honest
search for truth, given us a "new Bible," acceptable to reason as
well as faith, always the perfect guide to our moral and spiritual
life.

FOREWORD 3
My memory is clear as to the workings of my con
science, and the quotations from letters and diaries
are given word for word as they were written in
those foolish first years. No eyes but mine ever
saw the journal, the special charm of which was
that its entries were my own secret. It had been
long laid away, and only recently, by accident,
was it found. I was not a prodigy, but I was most
serious about securing my soul's eternal salva
tion. No nun, relinquishing all that is natural
and free in this life, could have worked harder
for that end.
Aside from that, I was a normal child, fond of
play, of school where I was ambitious to excel,
affectionate, impulsive, and faulty. I led a sort
of dual life, one full of fun and play, the other dark
and mysterious, shadowed by an angry Deity
whom my best efforts could not wholly please,
and by an "enemy of souls, " whose deceitful wiles
could be met only by constant vigilance. Satan
was a reality in those days.

II
MY PARENTS
Father and mother were of old New England
stock, mother being born in Boston, father in a
small town in Maine. Both parents were de
scended from Revolutionary families . Father could
trace his line straight from the Mayflower, while
mother's parents were cousins, a niece and nephew
of Nathan Hale, the famous spy of the Revolution
ary war. My grandfather on my mother's side
was David Hale, one of the first editors of the Jour-
nal of Commerce, and his home was in New York
City. He was a strong Congregationalist, and
intimately connected with the establishment of
Congregational churches in New York and Brook
lyn. The Broadway Tabernacle owes its founda
tion to him, and his money and influence helped to
bring into existence the churches of Dr. Storrs and
Mr. Beecher in Brooklyn. I am not giving the
details of my grandfather's life further than to
show that on both parents' sides Puritan blood
flowed, almost undiluted, through my veins.

MY PARENTS 5
My parents were married in New York in 1837,
father being twenty-one years of age, mother two
years older. I have the letter, written in 1816 by
my grandfather to his wife's mother, mentioning
the birth of my mother. It is yellow with age and
torn, but I have it framed and hung under her
picture. It reads: March ii, 1816.
My dear Mother :
I have now the pleasure to inform you, that your
lovely daughter who has so often before made me
happy, has this morning conferred on me the new
obligation of a little daughter. Both the mother
and the daughter are doing very well. Let us not for
get to render thanks to that Being who gives every
blessing. We feel placed in a new situation, with new
duties and new pleasures, and need your prayers that
we may be enabled to devote our little treasure to that
Being who has given her to us.
With gratitude and duty
I am, Your affectionate Son
David Hale Jun'r.
P.S. Your anksiety will make it my duty to write
again in the cours of two weeks. The little creature is
almost as heavy as a six pounds weight.
Thus was announced the beginning of the life
of one of the sweetest and best women that the
Lord ever gave to this earth.

6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
When my father asked my grandfather for the
hand of his lovely daughter Mary in marriage,
Mr. Hale asked him whether he had ever learned
a trade. As father had been in a store since he
was fif teen years old, first in Hallowell, Maine, with
his uncle William Stickney, and later in the great
city, he had learned no trade. The lady of his
desire was refused until he could show some
proficiency in that line. Therefore he apprenticed
himself to a cooper. When he proudly showed
my grandfather a tub and a barrel all of his own
make, his request was granted.
Without loss of time, the young cooper started
for Coventry, Connecticut, where Mary was living
with her grandmother. Two or three days sufficed
for the journey from New York, and John entered
unannounced by letter, since letters cost twenty-
five cents in those days. Scarcely could he eat
and rest, so anxious was he to leam his fate,
before he invited the lady to take a walk. They
strolled around Coventry Pond, and the moon
was risen before they returned with faces shining,
hearts and hands joined for a long life.

^/r'Sj£?i'ii<'-r:.^':>-:"w^:'v-i^'-^

Facsimile of my Grandfather's Amiouncement to his Wife's Mother, of the Birth of my Mother, Mary Hale

The Stickney Home in Rockville, Conn.

Ill
CHILDHOOD
After an unsuccessful attempt to establish
themselves in a western town (Michigan was
considered western then), where my mother's first
three children were born, father and mother went
to Rockville, a small but growing town in Connec
ticut, fifteen miles east of Hartford. It num
bered then, about four hundred inhabitants, but
to-day, is counted among the thriving, manufactur
ing cities of the State. Father cut down pine
trees on a hill, and built his house in the space
thus made. For forty-five years, until his death,
that was his home, very dear to him, a house added
to here and there, as the wish seized him, until it
defied all settled lines of architecture. The place
extended over several acres, and at the foot of the
hill father owned two of the first-built mills of the
town. Large sheets of brown and white paper
were made there. I was a frequent visitor to the
mills, and became familiar with the details of
7

8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
paper manufacture from the room filled with
dusty rags, and the large, revolving vats of pulp,
to the machine which fed and cut ugly brown or
clean, pretty, white paper. If any sheets were
blemished they were thrown aside and I was
permitted to gather them up to cut into paper
dolls, of which I had a large and ever-increasing
family. On these I expended much time and taste,
some of the "ladies" having many and variously
colored dresses, coats, hats and aprons, in their
wardrobes. These I painted with my box of water
colors fastening everything on with ingeniously
contrived belts and shoulder-straps.
A waterfall, some seventy feet high, of much
natural beauty, furnished the power for father's
mills, or as we used to say, "ran the mills. " The
stream continued to descend a mile or more,
attracting, in the course of time, other factories,
of men's woolen goods, of silk and cotton thread,
and of envelopes, all of which proved the means of
growth and wealth for this pretty New England
village. Its modest houses crept up the slopes
of hills on either side of the river, and a broad,
level space in the heart of the town was made into
parks around which were grouped churches
and stores with the one hotel. The Main Street
had three levels, one rising above another, with

CHILDHOOD 9
banks held in place by stone walls which were
broken by flights of steps. It was on the Middle
Road that I once came near losing my life, for the
horse which I was driving was frightened by a
broken harness some part of which struck against
his heels, causing him to run away. Had I not
been able to turn his head into the stone wall,
and hold it there until men came to the rescue, my
light buggy must, inevitably, have been smashed
or overturned a few rods farther on where the
hotel stood and where many horses and teams
were hitched.
These three divisions of Main Street formed a
unique and picturesque feature of the village.
With its mill bells and whistles, the numerous oper
atives coming and going, its stores and farmers'
wagons arriving from the country around with
produce for sale or exchange, its foundry, gro
cery stores, printing presses, banks, churches and
schools, this grew, in not many years, to be a
busy, bustling, important town. After some time,
steam as a factory power was introduced, a
change which multiplied the factories, but which
seemed to my father and men like him, a sad
innovation. For water cost nothing, but steam
meant coal and labor. The Hockanum river
flowed through the town taking its rise from Snipsic

IO A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
lake, a sheet of clear water about two miles long,
with wooded, high banks forming one shore, low,
cultivated farms spreading out from the other. In
one spot there was a magnificent pine grove, a favor
ite visiting place of mine. Here I would walk, sit,
and read, or lie down and dream on the pine needles
in a summer afternoon. Since tramps were un
known in those days, I often went alone and spent
two or three hours in my Eden. The delicious smell
of my grove rises in my nostrils now. The russet
carpet was soft and clean. There the pink moc
casin flower grew, and occasionally the small,
yellow lady's-slipper. The Hartford fern lay there
in masses and I would twine it in wreaths for my
hat. Many years after, I was married to the man
of my choice under an arch of wild clematis and
Hartford fern, gathered from my grove, and
these plants seem always, in a special manner, to
belong to me. Numberless other dainty small
vines and flowers grew in my grove, those that
flourished in the warm shade, which I used to
talk to and love. I seldom picked them, because
it seemed to hurt them, they wilted so soon. And
they belonged so thoroughly to their environment.
It is the careless plucking of our wild flowers by
those who think they love them, but who often
tear and destroy whole plants in the effort to secure

CHILDHOOD II
a few blossoms, which is causing the disappearance
of many of these tender friends of man. I was not
guilty of that sin even as a very young person.
Lying at full length upon my mossy cushions, I
could gaze far up into the noble roof of my grove,
where the sunlight came through only in spots.
The pines made soft music, mingled with distant
bird notes and the fine hum of insects. A softly
singing brook made a contralto to the chorus. I
often turned up old, decayed leaves, or broke off a
piece of bark from an old stump, and surprised
little black beetles or earwigs which ran, fright
ened, to cover. Sometimes a shy rabbit or gray
squirrel or chipmunk stopped to look at me,
and perhaps scold me, and once I saw a mink
with its rat-like eyes peeping over a log. The wild
things are very curious about us who intrude into
their seclusion. There were no snakes or mos
quitoes in my grove, nothing to make one afraid,
and the wavelets of the lake swished softly, not
far off.
After forty years I visited my grove, and lo!
there was no grove. The trees had fallen victims
to the lumberman's axe, and doubtless the pine
logs had made fires for cool days in the summer
cottages which now line the high banked shore of
the lake. But the memory of those sights, sounds.

12 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and smells will always linger with me. It was
there, that, without knowing it, I acquired a
taste for the free out-of-doors and a desire to learn
about birds, insects, and flowers, which has proved
the greatest of pleasures, and which, in my books,
I have striven to bring to the love of others.

IV

infancy

My mother had eight children, four of whom
died in infancy. I was the eldest but one, the first
born having been a boy who passed from the
parental nest when he was six months old. The
loss of this boy was a terrible blow to my parents.
My mother told me that she feared father would
lose his sanity through his wild grief. When I
came, being a girl, he scarcely noticed me for many
weeks of my babyhood. One day he came into
the room where I was sitting in mother's lap. I
stretched out my hands towards him, and crowed
in baby fashion. He caught me in his arms,
hugged me, and was my devoted father from that
day, as long as he lived.
Mother used to relate, with the sense of quiet
humor for which she was noted, how she and father
were taking a ride in a sleigh, near their home in
Marshall, Michigan, when, in plowing through
a deep drift, the sleigh was overturned. I, the
13

14 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
baby, was sleeping, well wrapped, in mother's arms.
For safe keeping, she threw me as far as she could
into the drift of snow on one side. When the
sleigh was righted, and the horse harnessed in, a
search was made for the baby. So quietly had I
fallen into my soft bed, all traces of me had dis
appeared. Not until father had tramped to a
near-by farm-house and borrowed a shovel, was I
discovered and dug out, my mother, meanwhile,
standing by, nearly frantic, lest I should be suffo
cated. When found, securely enfolded in the
shawl, I was still sleeping, nor did mother's
delighted caresses disturb my nap.

V
play-time and dawnings of conscience
As I grew older and other babies came, I was
early called upon to help mother. Generally, I
was willing to give up my own plans and "take
the baby," for I was fond of the little helpless
things, and was careful of them when babies,
guiding them with an older sister's authority
when they became old enough to be dragged out
doors, for I lived as much as possible in the open.
I was healthy and muscular, playing with boys in
preference to girls, partly because some nice boys
lived near us, partly because I liked their rougher
games. Our family discipline was not more rigid
than it was in other families, and I was not under
especial supervision. Our acres were broad enough
to afford all the space and variety that we needed
for our sports and pursuits. For rainy days we
had the barn with its sweet-smelling hay. For fair
weather there were the orchard, the garden, the
groves of chestnut and other trees, the bushes
15

i6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
where we hid when playing "Hi spy," the fields
and woods where wild flowers grew. We had
swings, cubby-houses, and the appropriate places
for "poppy shows." These were shallow holes
lined with moss, decorated with pretty stones,
shells, bits of crockery or glass, all arranged with
flowers and leaves so as to look like a kaleidoscope.
They could be seen, only on payment of a pin.
We would sing :
"A pin, a pin for a poppy show,
Give me a pin and I'll let you know. "
In winter our own hill afforded fine coasting,
and big sleds with bright, smooth runners were
cherished by girls as well as boys.
But very early in my life I was made to feel a
sense of personal responsibility towards God. I
was told that God could read my thoughts as well
as hear every word I should say. This I found
difficult to believe. He would require strict
account of every word and deed of mine. A
severe Recording Angel spent his time writing down
in a big book all my sins. These would be read
off and made public before assembled multitudes
on the Judgment Day. Could this publication of
my misdemeanors be made privately, between the
angel and myself, the ordeal would lose many of its

PLAY-TIME 17
terrors. But all the world would be there, all since
Adam who had lived before me, and all who should
live after me, and they would be filled with grief
as they gazed at my blushing face. I declared to
myself that I would not cry. I would be brazenly
wicked and unrepentant. But as tears often came
at the thought, I was not perfectly sure of myself,
and could only hope that in the course of a long life,
I might have some deeds to my credit. I do not
mean that all this was told me in so many words,
but my imagination supplemented the teachings of
parents and Sunday-school teachers, and at the
end of all things, the Judgment Day stood out in
livid colors. The point especially emphasized was
that I should have to answer, personally, for my
own conduct. Father and mother could not help
me if they would. I must stand alone. Therefore
I had to be careful. If possible, I must deceive
God into thinking that I was a good girl, even if
that were not true. After all, God might be
very like my mother who did not scold or punish
severely, even when deeply offended. I could,
generally, make her smile, while she reproved me.
So, if I told a lie, but punished myself by reading
two chapters instead of one (which was my daily
stint), in the Bible, I felt that I had sufficiently
atoned, had warded off the divine displeasure, and

i8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
could go calmly and unafraid to bed. Mother
often made me "meditate" as an aftermath of her
light punishments. I would sit on my small chair,
and really try to think the proper things. But
my thoughts would wander to a bird's nest which
I had found that morning, or the cup of black
berries I had picked, or the new calf discovered
in the barn the day before, too cunning for any
thing. As soon as the prescribed time, fifteen or
twenty minutes, was over, I would arise with a
happy sigh and turn to pleasanter occupations.
There was nothing of the Buddhist about me. Ab
sorption into Nirvana would not have appealed to
me. And to this day I don't know how to meditate.
I must be actively employed, not sitting with
hands folded, "a veranda lady," as my small son
used to call those who spent much of their time
rocking back and forth upon the porch of a near-by
hotel. But one of my ambitions was, if I should
die young, to be made into a Sunday-school
library book, like Little Jane, which I read many
times with great relish. It would be the only
compensation I could think of, should I be taken
away. So I often said and wrote words to see
how they would sound in a book which might be
read by thoughtless children and which might lead
them into ways of piety.

PLAY-TIME 19
Except for my religious troubles, I lived as
other children did. I played "His py, " "I'm on
King's Land," "Drop the handkerchief," and
other games then in vogue. I think all our games
were social, depending upon several boys and girls
for their successful conduct. I never cared for
spinning tops, or flying kites unless done in com
pany. I also "called upon" other girls, when, if
it was in the autumn, we would go through a field
where the weeds had gone to seed so that little
burrs and sticktights might accumulate upon our
dresses. Then sitting down in the woods, we would
hold a ' ' sewing-society, ' ' by picking them off. We
did not know that we were acting as disseminators of
these weeds, doing the very thing by scattering seeds
that nature intended us to do. I often climbed trees
and tore my clothes. I was my mother's despair
about the big rents made in aprons, until she
conceived the clever idea of making me mend my
own garments done in the clumsiest fashion, and
wear them after my unskilled fingers had accom
plished their task. I seldom walked except to
church. I ran or skipped, or jumped rope or
rolled hoop when sent to the post office or store
or even to school. Every day I was obliged to
hem a towel (I think my mother must have had
scores of hemmed towels, for there was always one

20 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
ready for sewing), or sew "over and over" the
seam of a sheet, this duty keeping me in the house
for half an hour after school. And if the work was
carelessly done, it had to be ripped out and re-
sewed. The days went quickly and happily enough.
It was at night when I was alone and in the dark,
that the awful facts of existence faced me, and I was
afraid to go to sleep for fear I would never wake
up. I would strain my eyes wide open, but in
spite of all I could do, I could not stay awake,
and so lost myself until morning, when I would
open my eyes and consider that I had once more
outwitted the bad angel who wanted to take me
away in my sleep. And I have never liked the
dark. Even now, when I awake in the night,
I like to look from my window and see that there
is still moonlight or starlight in the world.
Do I make it clear that I lived two lives, one
natural and childlike, the other terrified and un
natural? I prayed, of course, but always as de
precating the wrath of an offended Deity. I was
still verj'' young when I strove after "conviction
of sin," as the phrase went. Occasionally, when
I had taken cold, or felt ill-used, I suspected that
I had attained to that desirable state of mind. It
was borne in upon me that I must pass through
that experience in order to be saved. "Saved"

PLAY-TIME 21
meant, of course. Heaven and the bliss reserved
for the good after death. One day, after reading
something, it came to me that, in order to be
saved, I must be willing, if it were God's will, to
be eternally lost. My case was hopeless, unless
I could say from my heart, "I am willing to be lost
in Hell forever. ' ' After a sad struggle, I concluded
that I had reached that saintly state and men
tioned the fact to my mother. She looked at me
with some astonishment and quietly said, "All
the same, I should be careful, if I were you, to make
my calling and election sure." I then knew in
my inner heart, that I had not the least doubt
that somehow, in some way, I should be saved,
otherwise I would not have been willing to be lost.

VI
punishment
My first experience with a court of justice,
mother's of course, was when there were two of us,
myself aged four, and Mattie aged two. Mother
went away for the afternoon and promised some
thing nice on her return, to two good little girls.
Mattie followed, always in my leading strings.
They led, this time, to the keg of sugar. How
delicious it was to lift the cover from the keg, bury
our hands in the brown, sticky, sweet stuff, and
suck our fingers! Julia, the "hired girl," was
ironing, but distrusting the sudden silence which
followed our previous chatter, she sought and found
us. We were scolded, washed, and made present
able before mother came home. The story lost
nothing in the telling. The blame was laid on me,
where indeed, it belonged, for, as Julia said, I was
old enough to know better. How, as I grew older,
I got to hate that fateful preeminence in age!
Mother said nothing, but she produced two large,

PUNISHMENT 23
wonderful oranges. Never since, have I seen such
fruit as my memory paints it, yellow and juicy,
fragrant, fit for angels to suck. Oranges, in those
days, were a rare luxury. Mother gave both to
Mattie. To me she said: "Go to your room
and think how wicked it is to lead others into
temptation. It is even worse than to do wrong
yourself. " In a passion I cried, ' ' Keep them both,
you little pig." I went to my room while poor
little Mattie, the innocent object of my wrath,
wonderingly held an orange in each hand. I can
almost feel, even now, some of the rage which
filled my heart, and which made me refuse to taste
the oranges when Mattie ate them. My pride
had been severely wounded. It was not so much
that I was deprived of mine, as that Mattie had
two of the coveted fruits; that, somehow, she had
made capital out of my misfortune. Generally, I
recognized the justice of my mother's dealings with
us, even when, alas! I bore the brunt of her
displeasure. Mother hated causing real suffering,
but she believed in firm discipline, in "breaking
the will" as the phrase went. Usually her pen
alties were of the mildest kind. When Mattie
and I quarreled, she would place us in two chairs
facing each other, bidding us to look straight into
one another's eyes, and on no account to smile.

24 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Very soon, smiles and then laughter came, and the
bad feelings were gone. Then we would kiss and
make up. Or an extra fifteen minutes of sewing,
or a loss of the dessert at dinner, reminded us of
rightful authority. In the matter of the oranges
it would have been wiser had mother given one of
the desired fruits to my sister and reserved the
other for me until I should have earned it by good
behavior. However, I am sure that mother made
fewer mistakes with us than I made in the train
ing of my own children when they came to me.
Most mothers, even those whose intentions are
the best, realize in later years that they made mis
takes in the care and development of their young
children, mostly because of misunderstanding of
the child's point of view.

VII
THE NEW HOME
I WELL remember the day when we were driven
in a sleigh, to the new house on the hill. Mattie
and I were nearly suffocated, having been placed
in the bottom of the sleigh and covered with a
buffalo robe. I was nearly five, old enough to
look forward to the new home with pleasant
expectancy. But the move was made in bleak
March. The plastering of the rooms was still
damp, and we all took cold. Mattie and I had
lung fever. Mother had no help and was ill her
self. How she brought us children through the
horrors of that chill month, she never knew. One
day she thought I would follow the older brother
whose death was still such a source of poignant
grief to her and father. But father helped in
the nursing and housekeeping, and we pulled
through. Spring brought mild days and we gained
in health and strength. There were rocks and
hills all around us. One hUl not far from the
25

26 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
house we called Mars Hill (spelled Ma's), because
it was a favorite walking place for mother who
often cUmbed there and sat looking long at the
western sky. On all the fields and hills, lovely
flowers grew, bushes clustered, spmces, pines,
hemlocks, sassafras, willows, and chestnut trees
were our friends. There was not a square foot in
all the region with which we were not soon familiar.
Among the few books in my library, the most
delightful was Malleville the first of Dr. Jacob
Abbott's Franconia Stories. Beechnut was the
real hero of the story, and I longed for just such a
sort of elder friend. During two years of my
early childhood, one boy answered to my ideal
of Beechnut. He did "chores" for the bam and
house, mingled with the family, and part of the
day went to school. I was very fond of him. He
found time to interest and amuse us children. I
can see him now, climbing the biggest chestnut
tree, and, with a long pole, knocking down nuts,
big and brown, from the ends of the branches.
What a pity that New England's fine chestnuts
are either gone or seem doomed to death! We
had several trees on our land, and the ripening of
chestnuts was one of the events of the autumn.
We roasted or boiled them over the coals in the
sitting-room fire, and we ate pockets full, raw.

THE NEW HOME 27
My Beechnut gave us rides on the wheelbarrow,
and he told us no end of tales of fairies and dwarfs.
When he left us, he gave me a beautiful, morocco
covered volume of the Pilgrim's Progress with
many engravings in it, and my name marked in
gilt letters on the outside. This boy's name was
Edmund Mitchell. He is doubtless long since
dead. I have not heard of him since those early
days of my life, but I would like here, to offer my
grateful tribute to his kindness and gentleness
towards one little girl. I have my Pilgrim's
Progress still, and have read it through many times.

VIII
my MOTHER
When my father took over the property in Rock
ville which my mother's father had left him, it
was heavily encumbered with a mortgage. My
grandfather expected to have left it free from
this mortgage, but died before the debt was paid.
I remember the day, I was, perhaps, eight years
old, when father returned from a drive to Tolland,
our county seat. ' ' Mary, ' ' he said, " it is aU paid.
Let us give thanks." They clasped each other,
and, unmindful of my presence, knelt together in
the middle of the room. I then understood for
the first time, why we had been granted so few
luxuries in dress and table ; why my parents worked
so unremittingly; why, in vsdnter, we lived in the
dining-room so as to save the expense of a fire in the
sitting-room ; why, in short, we practiced so many,
seemingly unnecessary economies. We always
went to bed in a cold room, and, mornings, we
washed ourselves in cold, often ice water. Once
28

Mr. and Mrs. John Newton Stickney
From a dag^uerreotype taken about 1850

MY MOTHER 29
a week, in winter, we were given a bath in a small
tub of hot water in the warm kitchen. In summer
there was no hardship connected with our bedroom
ablutions.
Things were a little easier after the mortgage
was paid off, for father had besides his mills, a store
in the village, and mother had a little property
of her own, invested in Journal of Commerce
stocks, a heritage from her father. But habits
of strict economy were early instilled into us
children, and nothing was wasted that could possi
bly be used. That was part of New England
training. Mother named our home "Evening Side," be
cause it faced the west, and had a fine view as far
as the Connecticut River and to the Meriden Hills
beyond. In summer, the front veranda was our
family meeting place, especially evenings, after
tea, where we watched the sunsets. Showers
came up from the northwest, in full view, big,
black thunder-clouds which were the delight of our
hearts. For we could see the whole grand pano
rama, retreating into the house and shutting the
windows before the fury of the storm burst.
Mother would not let us be afraid of thunder
showers. She said the Lord would protect us, and
she and I would often stay outside, looking.

30 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
thrilled, until father called us in. She watched
and loved clouds more than any one I ever knew.
And the fogs which outlined the Connecticut River,
especially in the early mornings, long lines of
white mist stretching across the entire west, had a
fascination for her. She could predict by the ap
pearance of this fog quite accurately, for the day,
before the publication of government forecasts,
what the weather would be. Father would ask
her, "What will the weather be, to-day, mother?"
and hurry in his hay or let it stay out another
night, according to her prophecy. Some of
mother's signs are still well-known, as
' ' Rainbow in the morning
Is the sailor's warning.
Rainbow at night
Is the sailor's delight."
' ' Evening red and morning gray
Will set the traveler on his way.
But evening gray and morning red
Will bring down rain upon his head. "
"Mackerel's scales and mare's tails
Make lofty ships to carry low sails. "
' ' As the day lengthens
The cold strengthens. "
"Strong March winds bring April showers:
April showers bring sweet May flowers. "

MY MOTHER 31
There were others but I have forgotten them.
I still see mother who lived as seeing things
invisible, looking into the glorious west, softly
repeating to herself, "The heavens declare the
gloryof God, and the firmament showeth His handi
work. " Early in my life I learned the secret oJ
my mother's well-poised character. She was
accustomed to rise at five, in winter as well as in
summer, in order to spend one hour in her private
devotions. She read her Bible, sat silent a long
time, then dropped on her knees and prayed in
a low voice, often for half an hour. When she
arose, her face was shining, and her cheerfulness
was established for the day. Then humming
softly one of her favorite hymns, as " I would not
live alway," or "Jesus, lover of my soul," or
"Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear," she would go
about getting breakfast. For no one could quite
please mother in the matter of cooking, and her
hand was in everything that, promptly, at half-
past seven, appeared upon the breakfast table.
And in those days, the first meal of the day
was a substantial affair, with meat and pota
toes, freshly baked bread or biscuit, and coffee.
Later, a cereal came into vogue, and an apple
or other fruit. As I frequently arose at five
and either walked about the place or went for a

32 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
horseback ride the meal was none too much for
me. On account of mother's cheery disposition, a
matter of temperament as well as religion and
common sense, she was often sent for by her
neighbors in cases of sickness or bereavement.
There were no trained nurses in those days, and
friends helped one another in the duty of sitting up
nights with the sick. And it seems to me mother
was always preparing some delicacy for the invalids
to eat. She could make the daintiest of dishes,
and I was often allowed to be the happy miessenger
of these kindnesses. Very carefully, I would take
the plate or saucer, covered with a plate or napkin,
and feel all the joy of its being blessed to give.
Once when I was going on such an errand, I took
a short-cut across our orchard, and climbed our
picket fence, instead of going around by the road.
As I was about to jump on the farther side, a
snake put up its head and hissed. It was on the
very spot where I would have alighted. I had
already acquired momentum for the jump and
could not draw back, but I exerted all my strength
and flung myself as far as possible into the road.
In the fall I broke my dish and spilled its contents.
Sorrowfully I picked myself up and went to
mother. She said that I had done just right, and

MY MOTHER 33
that her little daughter's safety was of far more
importance than a broken dish. Father was told,
and he hunted for and found the snake, a short,
fat-headed adder. He killed it, and in his way,
taught us a lesson in natural history as well as
ethics. We all looked at the dead thing and
learned that poisonous snakes had wide, flat
cheeks which formed pouches for the secretion of
venom, and that such a creature was a menace to
society and should invariably be killed. Sin was
like an adder in that it was deadly if it struck, but
that it hissed before biting. If our consciences
were alive we would hear the waming and jump
away from the poisonous thing as far as we could.

IX
THE PURITAN SUNDAY
Mother believed in the Bible message from the
first chapter of Genesis to the last of Revelation.
No doubts about authenticity or meaning troubled
her. Besides her daily reading of the Book, she
had time for but few books or papers. And we
took no magazines except the Home and Foreign
Missionary organs. Our library was limited.
The Journal of Commerce came daily and was
eagerly read by father. The New York Observer
appeared every Thursday. It was divided into
two parts, secular and religious. The first was
put out of sight on Sunday, but the religious half
lay upon the table. If I ever tried to glance at
the forbidden section, I was sternly reminded that
this was the Lord's Day in which I must not even
think my own thoughts. There were six days
allotted me for secular pursuits, and the Lord
asked for only one. Was not that little enough?
34

THE PURITAN SUNDAY 35
" I must not work, I must not play
Upon God's holy Sabbath Day.
And if my parents speak the word,
I must obey them in the Lord. "
This verse was early taught us and often repeated.
Our Sabbath (we did not call it Sunday, for
that was a heathenish word suggestive of worship
of the sun) began on Saturday night. Mother
had been accustomed to "keep" Saturday night,
the sacred hours of Sunday ending with Sunday
night. When my grandmother died, leaving
mother, her eldest child of nine years, with three
younger, mother was sent to live with her grand
mother in Coventry, Connecticut. Afterwards
this old lady, my great grandmother, finished her
long life, dying at eighty-seven years of age, in our
home. This was in 1849. I remember her
slightly, regarding her with awe, she seemed so old.
She paid little attention to me, except to want me
to be quiet when in the room with her. She used
to sit in one corner of our fireplace dressed in black
bombazine, a full skirt gathered to a plain, ungored
waist. A white handkerchief was folded around
her neck, and she wore a big cap with wide ruffles.
With steel-bowed spectacles, she would sit all day
in an old arm-chair covered with shiny, slippery
leather. She was very large and took no step

36 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
without her cane. This was my grandfather's
mother, a strong and active woman in her younger
days, but remembered by me only as ages old.
When mother lived with her grandmother, the
custom, at that time quite universal with good
people, was to begin the holy day with sundown
Saturday night, and end with sundown on Sun
day. No beds were made and nothing was cooked
during the day. Mother told me she used to sit on
the terrace of her grandmother's garden and watch
for the last rays of the setting sun. When they
disappeared, she rushed to her grandmother and
announced the fact. Then began hurry and
bustle. Beds were made, dishes that had accu
mulated for three meals were washed, clothes were
put to soak for Monday's washing, and the secular
week was in full swing. The custom was on the
wane, but mother said it was safe to keep both
nights, and she so ordered her household that
ever3rthing was ready for Sunday by Saturday
night. Play and work ceased, and Sunday-school
lessons were learned during the evening. I think
the poem Cotter's Saturday Night had some influ
ence on mother in this matter. She and I often
read parts of it together. Family devotions
were longer than on other evenings, and bedtime
came earlier than usual.

THE PURITAN SUNDAY 37
Our Sunday breakfast was of fried mush,
"hasty pudding, " as we called it, but it was by no
means a quick dish to prepare, as the corn meal
was boiled two or three hours on Saturday morning.
It was fried slowly, and when crisp was eaten
with molasses or a syrup made of brown sugar,
maple syrup being then unknown or very expen
sive. Generally cheese was served with the
hasty pudding. Church service began at half-
past ten. Sunday-school followed, and about
twenty minutes after one we went home to dinner,
very hungry. Dinner was of cold meat, cooked
the day before, with a splendid dish of baked
beans and salt pork, just as they were cooked
in Boston. As I remember those beans, the art
of cooking them seems to have disappeared.
They were baked, slowly, all night, after serving
for supper Saturday night. A steamed loaf of
Boston brown bread always accompanied the
beans, also a dish of "cold slaw," chopped cab
bage with a creamy, hot sauce. We always had
pies for dessert, five or six of which mother made
every Saturday morning. The second preaching
service was at half-past two. If the day was
stormy, always the more delightful, we took our
luncheon and ate it in the interim between Sunday-
school and church service, in the church porch.

38 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Or we went to the near-by home of mother's
dearest friend, "Cousin Abby," where we ate no
end of her wonderful doughnuts. If so stormy
that old Billy had to be hitched up, so that we
all crowded into the wagon or sleigh and rode to
church, all the merrier. Billy went to the shed
behind the church and munched oats contentedly.
No one thought of staying at home on account of
the weather. After the second service, it was
rather dull for us children, because father took a
nap, and we had to keep quiet. We might walk
around the house in solemn procession but on no
account run. At six in the evening, in summer at
seven, we had a prayer-meeting from which mother
often remained at home, father never. I generaUy
went from preference. It not only made my bed
time come a little later than usual, but it might
give me a mark of credit in the Recording Angel's
book. I enjoyed the singing, and when old
enough I played the tunes for the hymns on the
piano. During my early days, father played.
Sometimes the regular prayer-meeting was
varied by a Juvenile Missionary Society meeting,
or by a gathering of the Cold Water Army. The
latter was a temperance movement among the
children, all of whom were required to sign a
pledge to abstain for life from alcoholic drinks.

THE PURITAN SUNDAY 39
In proof of this we received a medal strung on
a ribbon which we proudly wore around our
necks. At least twice a year, always on the
Fourth of July, the army had a parade and
marched to near-by woods where a picnic was
served by our mothers. We owned banners, and
great was the pride and delight of the banner
carriers. I remember a happy hour of my life
when I carried a blue silk banner on which was a
picture of a bubbling fountain. Two smaller
children marched, one on each side of me, steady
ing the banner by cords. One banner was of red
silk on which was a glass of wine. In the bottom
of the glass a small, yellow snake was curled.

X

missionaries

My father figured prominently in the Juvenile
Missionary Society, being, I think the founder of
that institution. All his life he was interested in
Foreign Missions. He believed in Home Missions
too, but used to say that everyone was in favor
of Home Missions, while Foreign, just as impor
tant, had fewer supporters. He was a corporate
member of the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions, the A. B. C. F. M. of the Con
gregational denomination. He gave really more
than his means justified. He once asked me if I
did not think our small church had contributed a
fine sum to the Board. The amount given was
$545 of which I happened to know that my father
had drawn his check for $500. Real, live mission
aries often spoke to us children, and generally
they were entertained at our house. They were
treated with the utmost respect, the best of
everything in the house being theirs. One,
40

MISSIONARIES 41
representing the Seamen's Friends' Society, often
came, and when seated at the table, would look
with eager appreciation at the bounties spread out,
rub his hands together, and say, "Everything
looks real nice and I presume it tastes so. " This
man made long prayers at our family devotions,
and therefore was not in high favor among the
children. Father's prayers were reasonably short.
The missionary would kneel without the support
of a chair (like Samuel in the pictures), fold
his hands and lift them upward (also like Samuel),
turn his face towards Heaven, and speak with a
loud voice, as if, I used to think, the Lord were a
little deaf. Father and mother treated him with
the respect with which they received all who
came to us, the "choicest sheets being placed upon
the best bed. But when, in later life, he asked
for the hand of my youngest sister in marriage
(he must have been past fifty, she still in her
teens), I fancied the hospitality of my parents
was somewhat less cordial.
Our guest-chamber bed was always made up,
and the room was in order. Mother's table was
invariably good and sufficient. Mother was never
caught unprepared. Father might bring two or
three gentlemen to dinner, men with whom he had
business in the bank or store, and mother had only

42 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
to place the requisite number of extra plates on
the table. She used to say: "I cook for your
father, and whatever is good enough for him is
good enough for anybody."
My parents were strictly ruled by their con
sciences even in small matters. A sajdng of
my father's was: "Don't mistake your wishes for
your conscience. They are often very opposite
things. Your business is to follow conscience,
regardless of what you would like to do. " In my
young mind this conscience was a mystery. I was
told that it was God's voice in my soul, but I
could never seem to hear it. I often wondered if
conscience had been left out of my character.

XI

IN CHURCH

In church I generally pushed by my mother
in order to sit at the "head of the pew. " Adjoin
ing ours a maiden lady sat, old to me, but not
much over forty. She brought sprigs of dill
and fennel seeds, one or two of which she invari
ably passed over to me. The nibbling of these
spicy seeds would while away the dreary hour of
the sermon, before I was old enough to take an
interest in the discourse. If she had not the fennel
that delightful old lady would unroll a corner of
her big, red handkerchief, and disclose two or
three red peppermints which she fed to me, one
at a time, with long intervals between. She took
snuff, tapping a shell box which I thought exceed
ingly pretty. Once I reached my hand over the
separating partition and she allowed me to gratify
my unspoken wish. I took a pretty fair pinch
which made me sneeze terribly, upsetting mother's
and Miss Ely's gravity for several minutes. For
43

44 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
a few Sundays after that, I was denied my favorite
seat. The choir was located in a gallery at the back of
the church. When they sang, the congregation
arose, turned around, faced the choir, and leaned
comfortably against the backs of the front pews.
After a time, it was suggested that it was treating
the minister with disrespect to turn our backs upon
him, and it was determined to stand facing front.
Well I remember what a stir this innovation against
a long-established custom made, and how, for
many Sundays, the congregation was divided, some
tuming to face the choir, others facing the minister.
And after the custom to face forward became well
established, one man, noted for his independence
of thought and action, continued to turn towards
the choir and sing a heavy bass, while everyone
looked on with mingled amusement and disap
proval. This man once upset the gravity of the
whole congregation by walking into church with
beard, whiskers, and hair dyed a jet black. They
had been white from time immemorial. People
used to say, ' ' As set as old S  ' ' He was a thorn
in the side of the church, always forming an opposi
tion minority. Father, who seldom spoke an
unkind word about anybody, would say: "It's a
great thing to have somebody to pull out all by

IN CHURCH 45
himself, making the rest pause. It is like the
twelfth juror who disagrees and makes it impossi
ble to act without discretion."
The following incident will show that at least
one other member of our church had a mind of
his own and was not afraid to express it. The
minister was preaching a sermon on infant bap
tism in which he took the Calvinistic view that
unbaptised infants, dying, would be lost eternally,
even if sinless, since, having inherited corrupt
natures, they would have sinned had they lived.
After sitting uneasily for a time, our friend stepped
from his pew, stood a minute fixedly regarding
the preacher, then stamped heavily down the aisle
towards the door. There he paused, turned,
faced the pulpit, and shook his fist at the min
ister, after which he went out and slammed the
door behind him. Most, if not all, of the congre
gation looked upon this protest with amusement,
but with approval, for such a doctrine is repulsive
to all the kindly instincts of humanity, and it is
for kindness and fairness that New England has
always stood. It is amazingly true that within
twenty or twenty-five years I have heard the
same theology preached with all seriousness from
a Presbyterian pulpit.
For many years my father played the organ in

46 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
our church, he being a natural, but not an edu
cated musician. He received no salary (he did
not count his services worth much), but gave to the
church freely in this as in everything else. I often
went with him on Saturday afternoons, perhaps
blowing the bellows, if the boy could not be found,
while he practiced the "voluntary" for Sunday
moming. This he generally improvised, but
selected his themes in advance . He taught me how
to manipulate the stops and work the pedals, while
I played some simple music. In fact when I was
older I could take his place when he was obliged
to be absent, and received praise for rather poor
services. A boy named Joe blew the bellows on
Sunday, and received from father a small sum
therefor. Sometimes he would fall asleep during
the sermon, and when the last hymn was due, a
squeak and a groan would introduce the first bars.
The people below would nudge each other and
whisper, "I guess Joe hasn't finished his nap yet. "
It was a proud day when water as "power" was
placed in the church cellar to drive the organ
bellows. But about that time father feared that
his playing was not quite modern enough to match
the bellows, and he resigned his place to a young
lady who was "educated to the organ, " and who
played the keys correctly but had none of the soul.

IN CHURCH 47
the fire that my father put into such a piece, for
example, as "The Dead March in Saul." He
knew by heart the great oratorios. The Messiah,
The Creation , and Elijah . He often went to B oston
to sing in the Handel and Haydn Society, with his
uncle Paul Stickney and his cousin John Stickney
who were members. And at such times he sang
with all his soul, his eyes shining, his whole body
tense with excitement and pleasure. He had a
remarkably sweet and smooth voice and usually
sang bass. But he could carry an excellent tenor.
And so all of us had to sing or play. When I was
eight years old, father lifted me to the piano
stool, taught me the scales and how to finger them.
I early became the accompanist of the family choir,
able to read rather difficult music at sight.
My uncle William Stickney, from Washington,
D. C, was once visiting us, and we were having
one of our evening concerts. The contralto was
wanting. My uncle ordered me to take the part.
I objected that I could not play the accompani
ment and sing too. "Nonsense," said my uncle,
"a Stickney unable to do anything in music!
However, get up and let me do the playing, while
you sing," and of course I obeyed.
In the "Stickney book," it is written, "The
males (Stickneys) have blue eyes, curly hair, and

48 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
are extremely musical." My father and his
brothers bore this out in every particular.
MUSICAL evenings AND CONCERTS
Those musical evenings, how full of delight
they were ! Often we would invite a few musical
neighbors in for a "sing," Mr. Cogswell, Mr.
and Mrs. Stebbins, and Mrs. Fiske. And per
haps I was called upon for a piano solo, or father
and I played some of our duets, he always giving
me the "upper part." The ones I especiaUy
recollect were The Poet and Peasant, and The
Caliph of Bagdad; also The Overture to William
TeU. If to-day I ever chance to hear the strains
of those old pieces from a hand-organ or dinner-
band, my heart bounds, and I see in a dim picture
of the past, myself, a little girl with father at my
left hand, sitting at the piano, he rather disposed
to crowd (for which I pushed him hard) , both of us
pounding the keys with all our might. Towards
the end we accelerated the pace, until we fin
ished quite breathless, and received well-deserved
applause. I have found and reproduce here some old and
quaint hymns printed for the Tolland County
Temperance Society, of date, Christmas, 1835. I

WILL GIVE THEIR FIRST
At the 2nd Congregational Church, on Tuesday
 Evening, Sept 27, 1853:
PART E
I. Introductory, By Fall Orchestra.
9. Cbomfi, ' Hail, Great Creator,* froni ' Iliirtnony oflhc Spheres.' ROHUBRO.
3> Qnartette, from * .Massiniello.' .AuaSB.
MISS i;i.lZ\ FL'Ll.ER, Soprano, A. C. CROSBY, Tenor,
MRS. M M. FKISSELLE, Alto, H CHAPMAN, Bass
4. Duett. ' Hear mc. Norma.' Rossiai.
MKS. L. A. FISK. First Soprano,
MISS J WELLS, Second "
S. Cllom9> ' From Heaven Ihe loud angelic song be<^an.''
6. Chant, ' Hear my Prnyn'
MKS A. M.- STEBBINS, First Soprano. II STEBBINS, Tenor.
MIS3C. HIUB.\BD, Second •' W THOMP.SON, Bass.
MISS iM. DAVIS, Alto. G. TALCOTT, Baritone.
9. Recitative & Air, ' iVith verdure (hid,' from the ' Crcallon.'
Mna.J^ A FISK. Habxx.
8. Trio, Sky Lallt. Mrs. A M. PTF.BBINS, First soprano-,
MissC HIBBARD, Second
J. N STICICNEY, Bass.
9. Chorus, ' Nonr elevate llie sign of Judalu' Hasyh
TartTT
1. Piano Forte Overture. Mit. baunett.
i. Chorus, from Mozarl's Twelfth Mass.
3. I^uartette, ' O wanh you well hy daylight '
MiiB S. DEWING, Soprano, J. SELDEN, Tenor,
Miss L. DEWEY, Alto, J. W. THAYER, Bass.
4. Duett, ' Hear mv |irayer.'
Mns. A. M. STEHBINS, Soprano, J. N. STICKNEY, Bass.
S. Solo &. Chorus, ' Strike tho Cymball.' Pdciit.i.
«. Duett, Mus. L. A FISlv, Soprano, J, N. STICKNEY, Bass.
7. Son?, Move tho merry sanshiao. .Mrs. A, M. STEBBINS.
S. Cliorus, From the Oratorio of tlic Crcatioif^
DOORS^OPEN AT^lTaTcONCERT
"TO OOMMENCE AT 7 1-3.
ADMITTANCE 13 1-2 CENTS
CHII.DB£1V HALF PRICE.

THE LITTLE FOLK'S CONCERT.
GIVEN BY THE
Al the lst Congregalxanal CImrch, Wednesday ETcning, October 3.)tta, 1854.
PROaRAMME. PART I.
1. INSTRUMENTAL.
2. COME VVHERE JOY AND GLADNESS.
3. FOUR SEASONS.
4. VACATION SONG.
6. THE WANDERER. Dialogue.
6. THE TEA TAX.
7. THESOLDIER. Song and Chocus. Maslere Grant and Fovcl
8. COME SEEK THE BOVVER.
9. THANKSGIVING SONG. PART II.
1. INSTRUMENTAL.
«. "COME, BROTHERS, COME."'
3. THE HOUR OF PRAYER. Du61t- Soprano, Miss M Town,
Alto, Mjss j. Thomas.
4. PILGRIMS AT PLYMOUTH.
5. THE MERRY HEART.
6. THE ORPHAN FLOWER GIRL. Song Carol A Stickney
7. SLEIGH RIDE
8. "GO VVHERE THE MISTS ARE SLEEPING Dueli. (By m
quest.)
9. NEW ORLEANS.

WRIJ-S AND WEBB, l>BlKTEIi)l.

MUSICAL EVENINGS 49
doubt whether they can be found in the hymn-
books to-day.
Two concert programs of a later date, 1853 and
1854, show the kind of music that we sang. The
selections are strong, some of them classical,
and I know they were well rendered. Among the
Rosebud Vocalists I was a proud soloist. Robed
in a white dress, with a basket of red paper
roses on my arm, I stepped bravely out on the
platform, and sang, "Come, buy my roses red,
come buy," while I waved my basket. I think
I was old enough to be rather frightened, but
received complacently the congratulations of my
parents and friends after the performance was
over. Mrs. Stebbins held, for many years, a singing-
school which I faithfully attended. My father
had heard Jenny Lind in New York, and raved
over the quality of her voice. I was sure she could
not excel our dear Mrs. Stebbins whose singing
made me weep or dance, it was so full of pathos
or merriment. I simply adored her, and she
was wonderfully kind and helpful to us all. The
children's concerts were the outcome of these
singing classes. One spring we gave Flora's
Festival, and if I remember rightly, the cantata
was a great success.
4

50 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
My father's favorite was a grand old hymn
written by Isaac Watts in 17 19.
'0 God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come.
Our shelter from the stormy blast
And our eternal home.
Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure.
Sufficient is Thine arm alone
And our defense is sure.
Before the hills in order stood.
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting Thou art God,
To endless years the same.
A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.
The busy tribes of flesh and blood
With all their lives and cares
Are carried downwards by Thy flood
And lost in following years.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream.
Bears all its sons away ;
They fly forgotten as a dream
Dies at the opening day.
O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come ;
Be Thou our guard while troubles last
And our eternal Home.
' It was sung to the tune St. Ann.

Mrs. Aurelia M. Stebbins

XII
THE UNPARDONABLE SIN
I WAS, perhaps, seven years old, when I com
mitted the unpardonable sin. One of my favor
ite games was "meeting." I was always the
preacher, Mattie the congregation. There was a
small and refractory brother by this time but he
would not enter into the spirit of the game, so we
chose the time when he took his daily nap. We
sang hj^mns, I read the Bible and prayed. On a
Sunday afternoon, it occurred to me to enact the
scene of infant baptism which I had that morning
witnessed in church. Mattie, being instructed,
brought a doll to the front of the pulpit (a chair
turned on its side), also a cup of water. I dipped
my fingers into the cup, whispered to Mattie as I
had seen the minister do, then sprinkled dolly as
I pronounced its name, and said: "I baptize thee
into the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost, Amen." No sooner had the words escaped
from me than a terror seized me and I exclaimed :
SI

52 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
"Mattie, we have committed the unpardonable
sin against the Holy Ghost. ' ' I fled, crying to my
mother who thought I must have seen a spider,
that being to me the most fearful of creatures (and
I think so to this day), a sight of whose swiftly
moving evil body filled me with insane fright. It
was long before mother could gather, between my
sobs, the explanation that I had blasphemed
the Holy Ghost, that I was lost forever, and would
have to go to Hell when I died. Mother was very
wise and sweet. She caught me to her breast and
comforted me as only a loving mother can. She
did not make light of my offense, but told me
that as I had spoken the words thoughtlessly, I
would be forgiven. But I must be careful of even
little things in my play. She said I ought to be
God's little girl the same as I was hers, and love
Him so much that I could not bear to grieve Him.
She said I must tell Him everything just as if He
'did not know it already, because He liked His
children to talk to Him and tell Him of their faults.
' ' What, tell Him of this ? " I asked. ' ' Certainly, ' '
she answered, "the telling wiLl obtain His forgive
ness." So I went away and told God, and
felt happy. If ever I had a "conversion," it
was at this time. After that I tried to feel that
this dreadful Being was more like mother than

THE UNPARDONABLE SIN 53
I had supposed, and that, perhaps, He cared for
me. With regard to this childish act and my sorrow
over it, it is well to notice two things; one that I
included Mattie in the sinful deed which was to
shut me out of Heaven. If I must go to the awful
place, I wanted company. So I said : ' ' Mattie, we
have committed the unpardonable sin." The other
is that the Father and the Son did not count.
I was not in the least troubled about any possible
disrespect shown towards the first two persons
of the Trinity. All our religion, in those days,
was tinged with the possibility of sin against the
Holy Ghost which was unpardonable. He was a
dark and strange Being, and for some reason had
to be treated with more carefulness than the other
two. In my mind God the Father sat afar off,
on a great, white throne (an immense piece of
rounded, white marble) , the Son standing by with
his gaze fixed upon us poor mortals who somehow
could not help sinning, but who could be forgiven
for the asking. The Recording Angel stood in
the group, writing always his dreadful account.
There was a separate book for every person and
some were very large, when persons were especially
wicked. Others, like my own, were smaller. I
wondered if my mother's book was not blank. She

54 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
seemed to me to be pretty nearly perfect. At a
little distance down, nearer the earth, a dark, dove-
shaped cloud hung, the representation of the Holy
Ghost. He seemed to me devoid of kindness and
affection. He was watching out for blasphemies
against His person, and when these were uttered,
the Recording Angel wrote them down with very
black marks. I think, if in references to the third
person of the Trinity, the word Spirit had been
used instead of Ghost, I should not have conjured
up such terrible images. A ghost is ghostly.

XIII
JULIA AND HER STORIES
Julia Congden, my mother's "hired girl," or
"help, " as she was called, stands out as an impor
tant figure in my early childhood. She was kind
ness itself, but a great disciplinarian. When she
was very busy we had to keep out of the kitchen.
On ironing days she would often let me come and
sit on a corner of the table where she was smooth
ing the old wrinkled things, occasionally granting
me the coveted privilege of doing the handkerchiefs
and towels. She would make for me cookies into
bears with cloves for eyes ; or she fashioned dough
nuts into boys. Julia often sang to me with a
rich, low, sweet voice, quaint, minor Irish tunes,
and she had no end of wonderful stories. It was
through her that I became acquainted with Blue
beard, The Seven League Boots, Jack and the
Bean-Stalk, Cinderella, Red-Riding Hood, and many
others. Fairy godmothers and ugly witches figured
largely in these tales which she patiently repeated
55

56 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
to us time and time again. There were no chil
dren's books of that fascinating sort in our small
library. Besides the Pilgrim's Progress which
Edmund Mitchell had given me, I read, several
times through, before I was twelve years old.
Pollock's Course of Time and Milton's Paradise
Lost. The former I especially enjoyed and I also
enjoyed the look of surprise on the faces of my
elders to whom I announced this fact. Paradise
Lost fitted in with my ideas of things, angels and
devils in council scheming against mortals, with
the final triumph of the good angels and the
divinity, but I skipped many of the speeches
of the fiendish ones and got into the story as fast
as possible. That delightful book, Malleville,
to which I have already referred, introduced
me to Beechnut, Phonny, Caroline, Mary Bell,
and other children sketched in that book, who
became to me real and lifelike. I played with
them and talked to them. I had also Robert
Dawson, the Brave Spirit, whose bravery con
sisted chiefly in going with his cow to pasture in
the rain, with a big umbrella (in the picture), say
ing to himself, "Only one drop at a time." For
poetry, I read Pretty Little Poems for Pretty
Little People, very pious and instructive. Their
scientific as well as religious teachings were unique.

JULIA AND HER STORIES 57
WILLIAM AND JOHN'
There once were two brothers, named William and
John,
Who were forced to work hard every day ;
So one of them thought that it could not be wrong,
On the Sabbath to ramble and play.
Said John to his brother, one fine Sabbath morn,
Come, a ramble will do you some good;
'Tis a parcel of nonsense going always to church,
Or else to see Grandmother Wood.
But William refused, and John was soon join'd
By some boys who all laughed at his brother;
But William, as usual, went clean, first to church,
And then to dine with his Grandmother.
He told her the sermon, and sung her some hymns.
And then in the Bible he read ;
And soon after tea was prepared to go home,
When his brother was brought home quite dead.
He'd climbed to the uttermost branch of a tree,
When it broke, and he fell on his head,
And frightened were all his companions when they
Discovered, indeed, he was dead.
Then William resolved more than ever to pray
To be kept from the idle and rude;
He grew up a man, became wealthy and wise.
And loved by the pious and good.
' Quotations from Pretty Little Poems for Pretty Little People.
Printed in MDCCCL and composed by Louisa Watts.

58 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
THE GOOD GIRL
Come, come, my little Charlotte dear.
And see what I have for you here.
Because your work was neatly done,
And lessons perfect every one ;
Ah, ah, I see that you can guess.
So give me now a pretty kiss
For this fine doll with curly hair.
This cradle too and nice arm chair.
0, how much better to be good,
Than idle, passionate, or rude ;
I'll try, said Charlotte, to improve.
And show how much Mamma I love.
SNOW
Mamma, I should like to know,
Said Ann, the cause and use of snow.
To me it is a wonder quite
How it becomes so very white.
With pleasure, her Mamma replied.
Your wishes shall be gratified;
I heed no pains I thus bestow,
If you in useful knowledge grow.
I think you heard, last night the rain.
Loud beating 'gainst the window pane ;
But now the air is much too keen
To let mere water fall as then.

JULIA AND HER STORIES 59
Snow first is vapours light and thin
Which freeze ere they to fall begin;
The air expands and makes it light,
And light refracted, makes it white.
But snow is of much service found.
And pleased the farmers view the ground.
When thickly covered, it destroys
The vermin that conceal'd there lies.
It warms and fructifies the soil.
And makes the earth with plenty smile;
We thankful, therefore, ought to be.
When thus it covers field and tree.

THE GOOD FIRE
0, what a comfortable fire
You have, my dear Mamma !
I'm sure we it this day require;
What useful things coals are.
If they should be forbidden us
O, dear, what should we do?
As when they first came into use.
Five hundred years ago.
England abounds in coal, I know,
And much abroad is sent ;
It labour finds for thousands too.
And makes much money spent.

6o A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
But how much better, dear Mamma,
To sit beside this fire,
Than working down in mines so far,
I'm sure I should soon tire.
Be thankful then, my child, that you
Have comforts without care,
That you have not such work to do
As falls to miner's share.
The Ice King and the Sweet South Wind, an
abridged edition of Robinson Crusoe, and The Swiss
Family Robinson completed my library. There
was a dark closet upstairs on whose shelves I often
rummaged, searching for book treasures. When I
found The Scottish Chiefs, I felt repaid, and after
that I was interested in the early history of Scot
land as contained in Chambers's Encyclopedia.
Julia's stories, however, fed my imagination as no
books did. I am inclined to reproduce two or
three of these, as I think they are no longer in
vogue, and they may interest the young folks
of to-day who are fed on the more realistic Youth's
Companion and St. Nicholas. One that I liked
especially was called The Brown BuU of Orange.
It ran in this way :
There was once a stile on which if any one sat, she
might wish and the wish would come true. (I had no
idea what a stile was, but do you think I ever asked?)

JULIA AND HER STORIES 6i
Three sisters went out walking one day, when they
came to this stile. They concluded to try their luck.
The eldest was very beautiful with golden curls and
a fair skin. She jumped upon the stile, and sitting
there said, "I wish that the Prince of Spain may come
and carry me off and marry me in eight days' time. "
The second sister was less beautiful, but sweet and
pleasant looking. She mounted the stile and said,
"I wish that the Duke of Algiers may come along and
marry me and take me to his palace in sixteen days'
time." The youngest sister was dark, with black
eyes and hair, and was not accounted a beauty. She
was, however, sensible. At first she refused to wish
on the stile, but after her sisters' urging, she jumped up
and said: "There is nothing but foolishness in it,
but to show you that your heads are turned about
princes and dukes and that sort of thing, I wish that
the brown bull of Orange may come and carry me off
in twenty-four days' time." "Oh how dreadful,"
said the elder sisters, "but you'll see." When they
arrived home they told their father what they had
done. "Who is the brown bull of Orange? " he asked
the younger sister, "and what did you mean?" "I
don't know and I don't care, " she answered. "I just
did it to show my sisters how foolish they were. "
Now at the end of eight days, with a large retinue
of soldiers, making a brave showing, the Prince of
Spain stopped at the home of these three sisters,
and calling for the father, begged the hand of his
eldest daughter in marriage. Of course it was granted
to so magnificent a suitor, and the daughter, robing
herself in her one silk dress, took her white parasol
and departed. The wedding was celebrated that same
evening at the Prince's castle, with great splendor.

62 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
But he did not prove to be a kind husband, and
his wife was often unhappy.
The second daughter immediately went to work and
made herself a beautiful dress of white silk, trimmed
with red velvet. In sixteen days one hundred men on
horseback, sitting on velvet and gold saddles, came
prancing up to the door, and the Duke of Algiers called
the father and made overtures for his second daugh
ter's hand in marriage. The dehghted father wilhngly
gave her to the Duke who was exceedingly handsome
although nearly as black as a negro. He rode upon a
steed the like of which for swiftness and beauty had
never been seen in those parts. The duke caught up
the lovely maiden, placed her upon the saddle in front
of himself, and rode away with all his retinue. [That
word troubled me, but I concluded it meant a hundred
men, and when in the New Testament we came to the
study of the centurion who was in command of a
hundred men, I exclaimed: "He was a retinue."]
The father heard from her occasionally, but she was
reticent about herself and they could only hope she
was happy. Of one thing they were sure, that she must
be surrounded with magnificence, for the Duke of
Algiers in those days was a great personage.
"Now what will you do?" said the father to his
youngest daughter.
"Nothing at all, but stay home and look after you, "
she answered.
She went about her work and thought no more about
her silly wish, until at the end of twenty-four days a
splendid brown bull appeared at the door of her father' s
house. The girl approached him with fear and
trembling. "Go away, " she said, "it was only a joke,
and I cannot leave my father alone. You see my

JULIA AND HER STORIES 63
sisters have got married and gone away, and he is
alone but for me. "
"I am the Brown BuU of Orange," he said, "and I
have come for you. " He waited quietly, looking at
her with a mild and gentle eye. Her father also came
out and begged him to go away and leave him his only
remaining daughter without whom he would be deso
late. But the bull only shook his head and stood
patiently waiting. At last both saw that she must go,
and embracing her father with a flood of tears, she
climbed to the back of the bull, and he carried her safely
to a beautiful house on a hill, some miles away. Trees
and flowers were all around it, and in front there was
a lake with goldfish swimming in it. Inside it was
more like a palace than an ordinary house. Com
fortable chairs and sofas were in every room. Bidding
her to be seated in one of the finest chairs, covered with
blue silk damask, the Brown Bull of Orange brought
her sweet milk in a golden bowl to drink, and a dish of
large, luscious strawberries. He was so kind that she
soon lost all fear of him, and after a few days, began to
be happy. After six months had passed in this way
the Brown Bull of Orange came to her one day, and
said: "Now you have been here long enough to know
your own mind. Will you go back to your father, or
will you stay with me?"
"I will stay with you," she said, "only I wish my
father could be here too. "
"But you do not really care for me ? " he questioned.
" I do indeed. How can I help caring for you when
you are so good and kind to me?" she said.
"Do you love me, or do you only pity me because
I am a bull? " he asked.
" I do really love you, " she replied.

64 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Then with a cry of delight, a splendid man stood
before her, clad in kingly raiment. "Since you love
me," he said, "the charm is broken."
"What mean you? " she asked trembling and afraid.
' ' I have been under a wicked spell, ' ' was the answer.
"I am King of Orange and Castile. I offended a
mighty magician. He turned me into a bull and
ordered me to remain so until I found some nice
girl to love me. This I despaired of doing until I
heard your wish upon the stile. I then determined
to try my fortune with you, against all hope that you
would really come to love me. Had you answered
differently, I would not have detained you longer
against your wishes, but would have taken you at
once to your father. Now let us go to him and tell
him the glorious news. You are, truly, my good
genius. Your father shall live with us, and you shall
be queen over my restored kingdom. "
And so it turned out. The father had greatly
mourned the loss of his dear daughter, never expecting
to see her again. When she came to him, riding in an
elegant coach, dressed in rich, purple silk, pearls
hanging around her neck, and a wonderful ring on her
hand, he thought he should have fainted. He went
with his daughter and her husband, and had a suite of
six rooms in the king's palace for his own use, with no
end of servants to do his bidding. And the two sisters
were green with envy when they heard the story,
because they were only a princess and a duchess, while
she was a queen.
There were difficulties in this story, geographical
and other, but they did not trouble Julia's little

JULIA AND HER STORIES 65
audience. I pass along the tale very nearly as
Julia used to tell it. I wish I could reproduce her
expression of face and voice which made all her
stories so real and delightful to me.
5

XIV
WHAT KATY DID
When the katydids came in the fall, this was
the explanation of what Katy did :
Katy was the only child of her parents, and all
three lived on a pleasant farm. Their nearest neigh
bors were half a mile away, so that Katy had no
playmate. But she was not lonely, because she had
Rosebud to play with. Rosebud was the pretty cow
that gave nice milk for Katy's supper, and the little
girl used to sit on the grass, near her mother, as that
lady milked the cow. Katy often went into the
pasture with Rosebud, and watched her while she
chewed her cud, meanwhile gathering wild flowers and
making them into a wreath or bouquet for herself.
When it was time, Katy and Rosebud would come
home together.
One day Katy read a story about a little girl who had
a fairy prince. (Her mother read it to her, because
Katy could only read in words of two syllables.)
By repeating some verses which were a charm, the
little girl in the story could call her prince to her,
and once he put a ring on her finger and made her his
wife. He then took his bride away from her home,
66

and seated her on his throne.
the charm were these :

WHAT KATY DID 67
The verses containing

Hasten, fairy princekin,
Come over the meadows to me ;
Leave your home in the sunshine ;
Your beautiful bride I will be.
Bright on the woodland glances
His jacket of orange and green;
Now through the waving branches
His silvery plume can be seen.
Coming near and nearer.
He holds a ring in his hand,
I am to be the wearer,
His queen in the flowery land.
Hither, fairy princekin,
Oh hasten hither to me.
Lead away through the sunshine
The little girl waiting for thee.

The tune ran thus.

t^- '^ (KiU^iii-, cX«i i- ». tk. ™j<«i»i« i; i*-s

ot*«j*. .Ii7u\ K»«*-'^"'l^ JiM.*l.+we.NfliA ttaufc-A.X l/ti^'J M^.^ i^

One evening Rosebud came home without Katy,
and Katy's parents could not understand it at all.
They were very sad and puzzled. What had happened
was this: After following Rosebud into the pasture

68 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and playing awhile, she remembered the fairy princekin
and concluded to sing the verses which had the charm
in them, as they might, perhaps, bring a fairy prince
to her. She also started on a search for him. She
climbed a high and difficult fence and almost fell down
on the other side. She tore her dress, but thought it
would not matter much, as her fairy prince would
bring her another and prettier dress. She wandered
away through the woods where she had never been
before. After a long time it began to grow hot, and
Katy realized that she was hungry. She sat down on
a log and thought of her supper of bread and milk
which always tasted so good. A big butterfly flitted
before her. ' ' Can you tell me, pretty butterfly, where
my fairy princekin lives?" said Katy with a tearful
voice. But the butterfly flew away.
A grasshopper skipped at her feet. "Perhaps you
know where my fairy princekin lives," said Katy.
But the grasshopper hopped away.
A squirrel was running up a tree, and he stopped
and looked with curiosity at Katy. "Please, pretty
squirrel, tell me where I shall find my fairy prince,"
said Katy. But the squirrel coughed, shook his
bushy tail, and ran on to where his little ones were
up high, in the hollow of a tree.
A robin and a pewee were sitting in the same tree,
but Katy questioned them in vain.
Next Katy came to a pond on whose banks some
green frogs were squatting. They were wise and
solemn looking, and to them Katy put the same ques
tion. "Go home, go home," grunted a big fellow,
and the others all grunted in chorus, "go home, go
home." "But I can't go home," said Katy, "for I
have lost my way. " Katy was a brave child, but she

WHAT KATY DID 69
almost cried as she thought how nice it would be if she
were at home. She found a few wild raspberries to
eat, then since her strength would carry her no farther,
she lay down on some soft leaves and went to sleep.
Before it was quite dark, a big boy came along look
ing for his cow which had strayed from its pasture.
Seeing a heap of clothes he came up to the spot and
found Katy asleep. He whistled. (Here the story
teller gave a prolonged whistle.) "Hallo! What's
this? Wake up little one. How came you here?"
Katy rubbed her eyes and sat up. "Are you my
fairy princekin that I was looking for ? " she asked him.
"What's that? Your fairy princekin? Why, yes.
That's just what I must be. Do you want to come
with me?"
"Seems to me you live awfully far away, " said poor
Katy. "I have traveled, oh, I guess, fifty or five
hundred miles. But why don't you wear your jacket
of orange and green? And where's your silvery
plume ? ' '
"Got all those things at home. You can't expect a
feller to wear his best clothes every day, you know. "
"Why no, I suppose not," agreed Katy, half
convinced. "Do you?" said the boy.
"No, mother doesn't let me."
' ' Who is your mother ? ' '
"Why, she's just my mother. Everybody knows
her." "Well, let's go and find my mother now, who is
waiting for you. She'll give you some supper. Don't
you want something to eat? "
"Verily I do," said Katy, and now she let Harry,
for that was the boy's name, pick her up, — Katy was a

70 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
very little thing, — and carry her to his house which
was not far away. The cow had already come home
and Harry's father and mother were surprised to see
Katy. At first, among these strange people, the little
girl wanted to cry, but as Harry held her hand and ex
plained how she was his bride and he was her fairy
princekin, his parents understood, and soon Katy was
willing to sit in Harry's mother's lap, while she ate a
bowl of bread and milk, after which she was put to bed
in a nice, soft bed, near Harry's mother. While
Harry was telling the story of how he had found
Katy, there came a knock at the door. It was Katy's
father who was hunting over all the country for his
little daughter, calling at the neighbors' houses.
When he saw his dear wee Katy asleep in a crib, he
was so thankful he almost cried. It was concluded to
let the little girl stay where she was until the next
day, when Harry's father would harness the horse,
and accompanied by Harry, would take her home.
Katy slept late the next morning, but when she
awoke and found her fairy prince bending over her,
she was not one bit afraid. She had a nice breakfast,
and the ride to her home was delightful, because
Harry sat beside her.
He told her that they were too young to marry, but
later, they certainly would. And she must never
run away from her home again, because her father
and mother would feel so sorry about it. Katy
promised she never would. And Harry promised to
come and see his bride often, with his best jacket on,
while Katy could sometimes come and see him.
This story always ended with the words, "And
this is what Katy did."

XV

THE THREE BEARS

I WILL give one more example of Julia's stories,
this one also, I believe, quite forgotten in the less
imaginative tales offered to children to-day. This
was called The Three Bears, and was a favorite
of mine, as bears stood for the whole animal world
of danger and romance. The play of bears was
thrilling, since we hid from them when the cry was
raised, ' ' the bears are coming, ' ' scrambling up
into a tree, where we looked down in safety upon
our enemy, a boy who roared and made other fear
some noises, until a hunter, generally another of
the boys, came with a shotgun (a bean-shooter),
and killed the bear, after which we slid from our
perch to the ground. The story ran in this way :
Once upon a time, there was a little boy who ran
away from school, and strayed a long distance from
home. He came to a curious, small house. The door
was not locked and he went in. Three chairs were in
the first room. He sat down on the first and found
71

72 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
it so hard he jumped up as quickly as he could. He
sat down on the second and found it better, but not
very soft. He sat down on the third and it was so
soft he rested and rocked in it a long time. After
awhile he went into the second room, where were three
beds. He lay down on the first and it was so hard he
sprang right up. He lay down on the second and found
it better, but not very comfortable. He lay down on
the third, and it was so soft he cuddled up and went
to sleep. After a couple of hours he woke up and felt
hungry. He went into the third room where there
were three pans of milk. He tasted of the first and
found it sour and disgusting. He tasted of the second
and found it partly sweet and partly sour. He tasted
of the third and it was so sweet he drank it all up.
Just then he heard noises and hid himself quickly in
the cupboard. Three bears who were owners of the
house came in. Father Bear said (in a low, gruff
voice), "Who's been sitting in my chair?" Mother
Bear said, "Who's been sitting in my chair?" Little
Boy Bear said (in a high, squeaky voice), "Who's
been sitting in my chair and squashed it all to
pieces?" They went into the second room. Father
Bear said, "Who's been lying on my bed?" Mother
Bear said, "Who's been lying on my bed?" Little
Boy Bear said, "Who's been lying on my bed and
tumbled it all up?" They went into the third
room. Father Bear said, "Who's been tasting of
my milk?" Mother Bear said, "Who's been tasting
of my milk?" Little Boy Bear said, "Who's been
drinking of my milk, and drunk it all up?" Father
Bear said : " I'm going a hunting, and if I find that little
boy who has been sitting on my chair, lying on my bed
and tasting of my milk, I'll eat him up." Mother

THE THREE BEARS 73
Bear said: " I'm going fishing, and if I find that little
boy who has been sitting in my chair, lying in my
bed, and tasting of my milk, I'll thrash him. " Little
Boy Bear said: "I'm going to stay here, and if I find
that little boy who sat in my chair and broke it all
down, lay on my bed and tumbled it all up, and drank
up all my milk, I'll take him home. "
After Father and Mother Bear had gone away. Little
Boy Bear went to the cupboard and said: "Come out
quickly, little boy, and I will take you home. But
don't come here again, for it is not safe. Also don't
run away from school again." The little boy was
thoroughly frightened and promised and he never
did.

XVI
A BROKEN ARM
I HAD my share of accidents more or less serious.
Once, standing on the edge of our veranda, swing
ing from my hands which clasped a rope stretched
between two posts (I suppose used to dry towels) ,
the rope broke and I fell heavily to the ground.
It was not a fall of more than two feet, but my arm
was broken a little below the elbow. This was not
evident except from the pain which I felt. Julia,
for once, was not kind, for she reproached me for
crying and said I was a baby to mind such a little
thing as that. She sat in a swing fastened from
hooks in the ceiling, and held Mattie in her lap. I
was indignant with Julia and went off to grieve by
myself. When mother came home she comforted
me, and said that children ought to cry when they
were hurt, and she was sure I was no cry-baby.
She said my arm would soon be better, as I had
only strained the muscles. After a week, a hard
lump appeared on the arm, where the bones pro-
74

A BROKEN ARM 75
truded, and somewhat alarmed, mother sent me to
the doctor's office. I was six years old, but I
went alone. Mother was too busy to accompany
me, and there was nobody else. Besides children
were taught to stand upon their own feet in those
days. The doctor found it necessary to refracture
the broken bone which had begun to knit, press
the ends into shape, and bind on splints. While
this operation was being performed, I stood per
fectly still, without flinching, while silent tears
rolled down my face. When all was over, with my
arm in a sling, I walked sorrowfully home while
the tears would come because of pain. Triumph
antly I went to Julia and said: "You mean thing.
I broke my arm and the doctor had to break it over
again because it was not growing right, and he set
it, and I am to tell mother that I was a brave girl. "
Julia was filled with compunction, and she caught
me in her arms, rocked me, and told me one of her
grief-assuaging stories. What mother thought I
never knew. But the good doctor never wearied
after that, of telling of my endurance. I was a
great favorite of his as long as he lived in our
village.

XVII
MATTIE AND I FALL INTO THE WATER AND ARE
NEARLY DROWNED
About this time the careers of both Mattie and
myself were very nearly ended by a drowning
experience. I was sent to my father's store with
express orders not to loiter by the way. Mattie
went with me. The road there and back was
straight enough, but it lay along the stream, and at
one point flowers grew on the bank which shelved
steeply down to the water. A scum of oU that
came from the nearest mill and collected in the
grass and sedges growing near the shore covered
the surface of the water. I never could pass
flowers without at least looking at and smeUing
of them. I remember quite plainly that these
formed a clump of spiraea or meadow-sweet. I
stooped to pick one, my foot slipped on the
smooth bank, and I fell in. Mattie stepped on
the scum of oil thinking it was ice and tried
to catch hold of my dress. I touched Mattie's
76

Carol and Mattie
Aged six and Four

MATTIE AND I FALL IN THE WATER 77
dress and knew that she was also in the water.
We were absolutely helpless and would soon have
sunk for the last time, had not a girl who had
been walking with us run to the foundry near
by, and told some men who were working there
of our mishap. They lost no time in flshing us out.
Not many feet away there was a dam over which
the water rushed with force. Had we fallen in a
few feet farther down the stream, we should have
been caught in the current and carried over the
fall. It was a close call. To this day I can vividly
recall the unpleasant sensations which came from
breathing water into my lungs, and I do not think
drowning is an easy death. Many thoughts came
into my mind while I was in the water, especially
the fact that I was disobedient to my mother, so
that if I died, where would I go? This experience
has made me all my life unusually timid in the
ocean surf, where I have, in vain, tried to learn to
swim. When we stood upon the bank with our
clothes dripping, the colors of the delaine dresses
run together, ' and with sunbonnets limp, we cried
lustily. In this condition we were taken in a
wagon to the top of our hill, and set down at
our own door. The men went away without stop-
' See copy of daguerreotype in whicii these, our best frocks,
were wom.

78 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
ping to explain to mother, as they had fulfilled
their duty. Two dripping, weeping children stood
before their mother.
"Who in the world are you?" she asked, not
recognizing us at first.
"I was disobedient, and we got drowned," I
replied, choking. As soon as mother knew us for
her own girlies, she took off our wet clothes and
put us in her nice, big bed with hot water in bottles
at our feet. Mattie recovered soon, but I was
very ill from cold and shock, and only just survived
the terrible experience. For a week I lay between
life and death, threatened with inflammation of the
lungs, as pneumonia was then called.
As I was getting better, my mother's brother
took the opportunity one day to impress upon my
conscience the enormity of my sin. He told me
I was still unregenerate (I was six years old), and
if God in His mercy had not interposed and saved
me, I would be even now beyond the reach of hope.
He solemnly asked me, "Where would you be now,
if you had died in your disobedience?" I think
my reply must have astonished him, for I answered,
"Without, with dogs and whoremongers." The
latter creatures were, to my mind, huge, black
beasts, fearsome and all-devouring. I burst into
tears, and mother, hearing, came quickly to my

MATTIE AND I FALL IN THE WATER 79
aid. She took in the situation. "Brother," she
commanded him, "this is no time to talk to the
poor child about her soul. Besides you had better
leave that to me. You may be sure I shall try
to do my duty when the appropriate time comes."
My uncle left the room and in later years he
and I were the warmest of friends. The incident
illustrates the severe thought of the age, and how
strictly very young children were held to account
for their misdeeds. To this day I can still feel
my mother's soothing kiss as she comforted me,
after my uncle's severe reproof. "As one whom
his mother comforteth, ' ' says one of the tenderest
passages of Scripture, "so will I comfort you, saith
the Lord. " I do not claim that I have drawn
all these incidents from memory. Mother related
many of them to me with more or less amusement,
later in my life.

XVIII

AUNT HANNAH

It was, perhaps, in the summer following our
drowning experience, that mother went away for
a few weeks' much needed rest. Father went
with her, also the baby brother. We two girls
were left in the charge of mother's maiden aimt,
a most excellent woman, conscientious to excess,
but who never had been trained by such as we.
She thought it would be a simple thing, a combin
ation of gentleness and flrmness, to keep us in the
right paths. I would like to know of her change of
views after those six weeks. Dear soul ! She has
long been in her grave. She had beautiful, brown
hair, long and straight, glossy and fine, and she
brushed it slowly and with lingering care every day.
To reinforce her in proper discipline, Mr. Pettin
gill, the "supply," of our church came to board
at our house, where he also could keep an eye on
us. Mr. Pettingill could smile, but most of the
time his thin lips were shut in a firm and set
80

AUNT HANNAH 8i
expression. He wore whiskers, cut close about
his mouth. His eye was steady and piercing, not
good for transgressors to meet. He was not one
to trifle with. One thing I was flrmly resolved
upon, that the time of my mother's absence should
be one of freedom if not license. I organized
Mattie and myself into a hostile camp, and our
guardians must have had to revise their theories
that children were like an open book full of blank
pages which had only to be written in by good
people to make their lives perfect and beautiful,
Arthur Christopher Benson has the theory, that
temperament is formed by heredity at birth and
practically does not change with years. There
will be development and evolution, but not change.
He says, "Personality is a stubborn thing."
"Apart from certain deflnite acquirements, I
cannot see that my character has altered in the
smallest degree since boyhood." He adds, "I
see exactly the same weaknesses, the same pitiful
ambitions, the same faults" which he has learned
better to conceal. And again: "I look around,
and the same phenomenon meets me everywhere.
I do not know any instance among my friends
where I can trace any radical change of character."
He quotes the Latin line, "Sicut erat in principio
et nunc et semper et in sascula SEeculorum. " I am
6

82 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
inclined to agree with that view of the case. I
know that as to myself, I am still quick to make
decisions and to abide by them; still impetuous,
still strongly partisan. I still enjoy life every
day, whatever it may bring me. Life softens and
chastens, but alters neither tendency nor tempera
ment. My friends sum me up by saying I am
optimistic, which may be a fault or a virtue
according to facts.
Certain rules were made for us by Aunt Hannah,
and one of them was that we, Mattie and I, must
sew one hour every afternoon, generally "over and
over," the seam of a sheet, or blocks for a bed-
quilt. Mother's way had been better. She set us
a "stunt," directly after dinner, and if we could
do it quickly the gain was otirs. Aunt Hannah
made it a question of time which was unbearable.
We had to "do" our lessons in the morning to
one of the two guardians. That was enough.
Did Aunt Hannah but leave the room for an
instant, I caught Mattie's hand, threw down
the hated sheet, and rushed outdoors. Some
times the minister, who was on the watch, pur
sued and caught us, when the penalty was flfteen
minutes added to the hour. But once among
the trees, not even he could ferret out our hiding-
place. There was not a tree on the place, except

AUNT HANNAH 83
the nasty, sticky pines, which I did not fearlessly
climb. I could "shinny up" straight or crooked
trunks for ten or fifteen feet, until I reached the
branches where I found a nice seat. Many of these
trees I peopled with fairies and gnomes, or old
woman witches gathered from Julia's tales, and
with these I talked as with friends, meanwhile
rocking and swaying in the wind. My favor
ites were the white birches, of which there were
many on our place, large and with thick foliage.
By sitting in just the spot where I could balance
evenly, I could spring up and down, and enjoy
a delightful "teeter." This rocking represented
traveling, and at such times I visited many places
which I dimly knew through our simple geo
graphy lessons, oftenest New York, by boat or
train, where my aunts and step-grandmother lived,
and whither I greatly longed to go for a visit.
Often I heard or saw Aunt Hannah on a searching
party for me, but if I kept quiet in the tree tops,
she could rarely find me. If she did, I was beyond
her reach, and I would take advantage of the situ
ation by saying, ' ' Mother always lets me swing in
the trees, ' ' upon which she would caution, ' ' Well,
don't fall, child." To this I would scornfully
reply, "Of course not." And I never remember
to have had any real hurt from my arboreal excur-

84 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
sions. But my apron or dress did not always come
off unscathed, or I scratched my arm. To both
I was equally indifferent. One aftemoon I thus
tore and destroyed two aprons. Aunt Hannah
took off the second with an ominous expression of
countenance. She placed me upstairs in an unfur
nished room by myself, and locked the door. It
happened that this was used as a store-room by
my mother, who kept her choicest jams in the
closet. I therefore took my imprisonment with
rare resignation. I took down a glass from the
shelf, knocked off the cover, and proceeded to par
take of the delicious sweetmeat. Absence of
spoons was no hindrance. I had long ago learned
the use of fingers in eating. Aunt Hannah had
tied on a nice, clean, white apron and told me that
I could not go out again before tea. Suddenly I
noticed that my white apron was sadly stained
with the beloved jam. It gave me a little start,
but concluding that the harm was already done,
and recalling the well-known proverb about
being killed for a sheep, I went on and emptied
the glass. Then I licked my hands, and upon my
liberation, went to mother's pincushion, took a
lot of pins and fastened tucks over all the stains.
I thought they were securely hidden, but I was only
a small ostrich with my head in the sand. De-

AUNT HANNAH 85
murely I took my accustomed seat at table by the
side of the minister. He eyed me with suspicion.
Doubtless he thought I looked too sweet and sub
missive, as if I were really chastened by my
afternoon's confinement. He lifted me from my
chair, stood me on the table, and unpinned me, pin
after pin, until the apron stared me in the face
looking like Joseph's coat which had been dipped
in blood. My poor great aunt was horrified, and
together these two drew from me the confession
of my feast. An empty glass upstairs confirmed
the over true tale. I was put to bed with a plain
supper, and sweets of every kind were forbidden
me for a week. They did not know that every
evening I sauntered innocently into the kitchen
where Julia had hidden for me a fine dish of jam
or whatever the family had had. Also cake and a
story were part of my feast. Had the guardians
only laughed at my pranks and not deemed them
punishable sins, we should have been at peace. I
am sure they had little sense of humor, which is
another way of saying they lacked imagination.

XIX
DISCIPLINING AUNT HANNAH
Partly to discipline Aunt Hannah, a few nights
after the jam episode, I suggested to Mattie that
we go to bed with our clothes on. We did so.
Mattie always yielded to my suggestions, dear,
sweet little thing. We lay very stiU, feigning
sleep when the good lady came in to see us as she
considered it her duty to do. I never could learn
to put my clothes in an orderly fashion over a
chair, and part of the effect of these nightly
visits was a rearrangement of our vestments so
that they would not be all wrinkles in the morning.
Aunt Hannah missed the customary sights of heaps
of drawers and aprons. Suddenly she said with
cutting sarcasm, lost on me, however, "What
good children! You must have folded up your
clothes and laid them neatly in the bureau. I do
not see a single article. Why, where can your
shoes be ? " We looked up with drowsy innocence.
"Surely you cannot have forgotten to take them
86

DISCIPLINING AUNT HANNAH 87
off." Then she pulled down the bedclothes
and laid bare the plot in all its turpitude. Under
her reproachful eyes we were obliged to get up, dis
robe, fold, and lay in immaculate order upon our
two chairs, everything of the day's wear, put on
our nightdresses, and get back into bed where we
giggled with delight long after Aunt Hannah
went away.
Whatever I did I confessed to Julia, and she
always laughed with me, and advised me well and
wisely. I generally took her advice, believing as
she said, that the fairies knew much of what was
going on among mortals, and were shocked when
we did wrong, and were pleased when our actions
were right.
Dear Julia! in a few years she grew pale and
weak, and at last, had to leave mother's service
to go and die with her relatives, a victim to
the disease then so prevalent among New England's
country folk, consumption. I was heart-broken
when she left, and so was mother. We all
wept together, mother understanding so well the
reason for her departure. I never again made
an intimate friend of the "hired girl" in mother's
kitchen.

XX
BEARS AND OTHER BEASTIES
My imagination was vivid in those days, and one
picture often came to me which had no real exist
ence, but which filled me with horror. It was a
row of small buildings, amost like chicken houses,
situated far from the road, on the edge of a forest.
The place was intensely lonely, dark, and desolate.
I never saw persons or animals or any living
thing about these houses, but I was sure that
tragic deeds took place behind their silent walls.
I would listen, at night, for screams of victims
which were being tortured or murdered there.
Whether such things were done by men or monsters,
I never knew, but nothing could have persuaded
me to explore. I was always looking for the
reality of my picture, and once, in later years
when I had almost forgotten the nightmare, dur
ing a ride, I saw a row of low houses, each with a
small door and window, probably the homes of
employes in a factory not far off, with a back-
88

BEARS AND OTHER BEASTIES 89
ground of trees. I turned cold with terror,
and the effect lasted long after the ride was
ended. My Kfe was haunted by animals. Some were
real, more were imaginary. Once when my little
sister was sick, I slept on a mattress at the foot
of mother's bed in order to wait upon mother if
she needed help during the night. My father was
away at the time. I was anxious about my sister
and lay awake much of the night listening to her
troubled breathing. On the ceiling I saw a queer,
moving, much exaggerated shadow. Quietly I
climbed around the foot of the bed, so that I could
see the table upon which a small lamp burned. A
pitcher of milk stood on the table, near the bed.
A rat was balancing itself upon the edge of the
pitcher trying to reach the milk. The creature
could not get its mouth down to the milk without
losing its balance and falHng in. After trying
many times, the rat tumed around, dipped its
tail into the milk, then drew the tail through its
mouth. This it did several times, I watching
fascinated. After its appetite was sated, and it
ran away, I arose and emptied the pitcher without
waking mother. In the morning I told the story
to mother who could hardly believe it. But
it was perfectly true. I was wide awake and saw,

90 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
first the queer, huge shadow, then the rat itself.
My sister (this was not Mattie, but one still
younger) recovered.
The real object had no terrors for me. I was
not afraid of rats or mice, or anything I could
see. At times, especially after one of Julia's hair-
raising stories, going to bed was fraught with
frightful fancies. There were bears under the
bed! Smothering ourselves under the sheet, we
heard them growl, and Oh Heavens! felt them
hump up the mattress as they lifted their backs.
After getting into bed, we were not allowed to have
a light in our room and on moonlight nights,
with the blinds wide open, I did not mind the
bears. On dark, and especially stormy nights, our
imaginary beasties caused us to suffer almost
agonies. We felt the bed move up and down, while
cold perspiration covered our bodies. It was a sort
of delicious fear which I treasured even after I had
outgrown the thing. Once when Mattie and I
were picking wild strawberries in the "cows'
pasture," I carefully examining every bush and
wall behind which bears might lurk, we heard the
croaking of frogs close by. The pasture bordered
the mill-pond above the falls, and the banks were
marshy. Mattie and I looked at each other.

BEARS AND OTHER BEASTIES 91
"Bears," whispered I. Dropping baskets and
berries, we fied away home in a panic of terror.
Breathless we told mother of our dreadful experi
ence, adding that we had seen two big, black bears.
Mother put down her work and went with us to
the pasture, telling us on the way that we were
silly children. Holding one of us by each hand,
she led us to the swamp where we could see frogs
swelling their throats and croaking. She made
us stand and look at them. We admitted that
these were our bears. Mother talked with us about
the sin of lying and the disgrace of cowardice.
She told us that not a bear could be found within
a hundred miles of us. Surely mother tried to
make us truthful and brave, but my quick fancy
must have made hers a hard task. Many such
faults belong to the era of childhood, and like
the "leg-ache, " which used to afflict me sorely,
with a wise letting alone, will be, in time, out
grown. Father gave us pigeons and rabbits for pets,
and, of course, we always had a cat and kittens,
also a cunning little pig, whose tragic death in the
fall overshadowed our pleasure in it. Mother
had an aversion to dogs and would not permit us
to own one. When father begged for one such pet,
mother worked a dog on each of a pair of slippers

92 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
for him, adding that she was quite willing to allow
such as those to walk around the house, but no
others. Father appreciated the humor of the gift
and so we did not have a canine pet.

XXI
THEFT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
The story I am about to tell of myself reveals
much that puzzles me in the review. Not that I
cannot trace my mental attitude, but it was
contrary to my character to deceive or steal, and
yet it is a fact that, on this occasion, I did
both with perfect deliberation. It may have
been, in part, the thrill of excitement at being
able successfully to enter into a forbidden land.
For many years, I was sometimes sorely tempted
to disregard early training, conscience, and con
ventional rules, and do something unexpected,
even by myself. I can only explain the feeling
by saying I was as if shackled, impeded by rigid
rules of conduct, and I wanted to jump the fence
and find interesting by-ways, not straying so far
as to get lost, but so as to feel free to do as I wanted
to do and not as I ought. After wandering, some
times only in fancy, in these forbidden lanes, I
would come back contented and be good again.
93

94 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
My mother, wishing something from the store,
sent me to her pocket-book for the necessary
change. A ten-cent piece lay temptingly in the
purse, and I took it and secreted it in my hand.
Mattie went with me. I know the exact spot
where I dropped that dime, stooped and picked it
up, sa3dng, "Oh, Mattie! see here. I have found
ten cents. " Mattie was delighted as always with
my good fortune, and asked to see it several
times. Arriving home, mother was told, and
later, father, the good news. Father suggested
that part of it (such a big sum as it was in those
days!) might go to the missionaries. I demurred
at first, having visions of candy, but soon, perhaps
because it was already burning my hand, I deter
mined to devote the whole amount to this cause
so dear to all our hearts. When I told father, he
was lavish in his praise. He said I would never
regret my generous act. I did not. The Juvenile
Missionary Society soon held its quarterly meet
ing. A returned missionary, who was being enter
tained at our house, was engaged to make the
principal speech of the evening. Father told
him the story of my ten-cent piece, and my rare
self-denial in giving the whole sum to the cause
was commented upon. Benignly the missionary
smiled on me. Caressingly he stroked my curls

THEFT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 95
(pretty poor curls they were, because always blown
about by the wind, and kept out of my eyes by a
round comb which I was forever taking out and
putting back) while he said I was a dear, good
child, and he hoped God would call me to be a
missionary myself, when I was older. I professed
myself ready to go then and there if the call should
come. When the good man arose in meeting
which was held in the church to accommodate the
large numbers which usually came, he told in my
deUghted and blushing presence, the whole tale,
mentioning no names, but indicating rather clearly
by looks in my direction that dear, unselfish little
girl. The other girls looked at me with envy.
Could dimes have been scattered over the streets
of our town the missionary box would have been
well filled. I tried to look unconscious, but inwardly
swelled with pride. My story is not finished.
The missionary took my dime, made it the text of
many other speeches in other churches, and putting
it up at auction, raised much money. After the
bidding the coin was returned to the missionary
who used it in like manner still further. Lastly
it was sent to The Dayspring, a children's mission
ary magazine which had a wide circulation in those
days. The story was published, names being
withheld, and all children's societies were asked to

96 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
bid for it. A large sum of money was thus raised,
and some missionary finally received the dime and
stopped its benevolent travels. In the proud
consciousness of my service to the cause of mis
sions, it is evident why, neither then, nor for long
afterwards could I tell the truth as to how I came
by the money. When I did confess, in after years
to my mother, it was not with any sense of sin,
but rather as if I had been "smart." But some
thing in the experience implanted in me a horror of
the meanness and cowardice of deceit and theft,
so that it would have been impossible in all my
after Ufe to have cheated even a car driver of a
nickel. I had not heard of "tainted money,"
and I even wondered if God would not be grateful
to me for my involuntary services, although I
promised Him I would not do the same again.
The Dayspring long ago ceased its lurid exist
ence. I recall, distinctly, its pictures of the
Juggernaut running over prostrate men and
women, of people hanging from the awful thing
fastened high with hooks in their backs, of widows
burning on their husbands' pyres (piles I called
them), of babies thrown to crocodiles, great
reptiles which crawled on the banks of rivers with
their mouths wide open, and other pleasant cus
toms of the benighted heathen. These people, in

THEFT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 97
the pictures were black, and it was long before I
could see a negro man or woman without a shudder.
India, especially, was hopelessly bad and cruel.
My father had one sentence in his morning prayers
which I followed with fervor. As he prayed for the
heathen, he expressed thanks that we were born
and brought up in this favored Christian land.

XXII
FAMILY LIFE
While, as a child, I cared not at all for money for
its own sake, from this time I became an ardent
supporter of the missionary cause and begged
for some way of earning money. We were told
that only by self-denial could we eam money that
would be acceptable to the Lord. By going with
out butter, a real deprivation to me, mother gave
us five cents a week, and many times all of mine
went into the contribution box. Or we might eat
butter once a day and earn three cents a week. On
company occasions we received special dispensa
tion, and ate as much butter as we wished.
Nothing could have been simpler as well as more
nourishing and generous than our table. Milk we
had in abundance from our own cow, always a good
one, generally a Jersey, and often mother churned
a little butter. It was part of my duty to drive
the cow to pasture every moming and go after her
at night. Once a drunken mill-hand caught me
98

FAMILY LIFE 99
at the bars, held me in his arms, and kissed me all
over my face, until I delivered a blow on his nose
which made him release his hold. I went on up
the road, still after the cow which had started
for the "upper bars." There, hiding myself,
I watched till I saw the man go away. It was
early on a winter morning, and my feet almost
froze before I could get home, crying bitterly.
This was the only time in my childhood or girlhood
in which I was frightened by a tramp or mill-hand.
After that I never went alone, and generally one
of our numerous chore-boys or father drove the
cow. It was considered perfectly safe for us to
go anywhere alone. My father tried hard to get
from me a description of the wretch who, even
when drunk, would catch and ill-use a child of
nine or ten years old, but he was not to be found.
I knew that his breath smelt horrible of liquor, but
as to the rest I was vague. I wonder now, that I
was able to take down and put up the pasture bars
at so young an age, but I was large and strong for
my years. The pasture belonged to my father, and
adjoined the cemetery. It was a pretty place,
with the river on one side, large trees and many
flowers growing there.
At ten o'clock we children were given a lunch
eon, generally a glass of mUk and a cooky or a

IGO A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
doughnut. If huckleberries were in season a big
spoonful was dropped into the milk, and these, in
order to prolong the delicious repast, we ate one by
one speared on a long pin.
For dinner, at noon, we often, in summer, had
five or six vegetables picked fresh from our garden,
with a little meat. Our tea, at six, was of warm bis
cuit or plain bread, with honey or some preserved
fruit . Some warm dish was provided as of creamed
codfish, hash or eggs, and cottage cheese. Sun
days we always had cake for tea, made on Satur
day. I was fond of the good things of the woods
and supplemented my meals with sassafras root,
birch bark, wintergreen leaves and berries, flag-
root, wild raspberries, and other small fruits.
Great was the time for huckleberries of which many
grew in fields far and near. We would take our
luncheons and ride two or three miles to the berry
pasture, where we would spend the day and have a
glorious time. At five the wagon would come and
take us home. By that time we would have our
pails full, besides having eaten a quart or two.
GeneraUy an older boy or girl went with us, but
many times I was the eldest of the party, and I felt
my responsibility keenly. I seem always to have
had the care of younger children, and to have been
trusted with our own and those of the neighbors.

Mr. Webb, Missionary from Madras

FAMILY LIFE loi
I drove our horse without any sense of fear from
the time when I was about ten years old. I was
starting for a long drive one morning, and asked
father the way. "Have you a tongue in your
head ? ' ' asked father. ' ' Yes sir, ' ' said I. " WeU,
use it, " was the injunction.
He sent me, once, to the station in Vernon, four
miles away, before the branch railroad extended to
our village. The snow was heavy on the ground,
and I took the sleigh, to meet a missionary and
bring him to our house. The train was late, and
whUe waiting, my horse grew restless, and my
feet became cold. At last he came, poor man,
from India, to whom our severe climate must
have been deadly. I tucked him up with the
buffalo robe and started for home. The horse
went Uke the wind over the frozen, weU-trodden
roads. Very stupidly I missed the right way, and
ran off on a side road where the snow was scarcely
broken. We came near upsetting. The mission
ary's teeth chattered, My flngers were numb,
so that they could scarcely control the horse.
Finally I stopped and said I must inquire my
way at a near-by farmhouse, where I saw a light.
I asked my passenger to hold the reins. He
declined, being in terror of my restless steed. He
went himself, plowing through the snow, obtained

I02 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
the desired information, and regaining my sense
of direction, we drove on. When we dashed up to
the house, about ten o'clock at night, my hands
had lost all power of control, and father had to
come out and unclasp my nearly frozen fingers.
The horse had gone straight to the barn and was
pawing impatiently to be let in.
The missionary and I thawed slowly, and were
none the worse for our cold, night ride.
This man talked with me about going as a mis
sionary to India when I should be old enough, and
from this time I began to consider myself as prom
ised to that field. For Mr. Webb was a dear,
sweet man, and impressed himself and his work
strongly upon me. My mother's sister, Mrs.
Lydia Hale Devan, was the first lady Baptist
missionary to China who died at her post. She
survived the long and terrible voyage in a sailing
vessel of several months, — steamers being then
unknown — only two years, and died away from
her family, after which her husband came to this
country. He had been more in love with his wife
than with the Heathen Chinee, and went to the
foreign field only because Lydia would not marry
him otherwise. It may have been one reason
why our parents were so devoted to the missionary
cause.

Mrs. Lydia Hale Devan, Missionary to China
From an old daguerreotype

XXIII
A CURE FOR WARTS
The cherry season was the best time of the year.
I climbed high into the big trees, sat on the
branches and ate, literally, by the quart. I often
gloried in the number of "stones" that I swal
lowed, appendicitis having no terrors for me. I
was very careful about poisonous fruits, eating
those only which I knew to be safe. Toadstools
I never touched. Julia warned me against them,
and added that the fairies danced on toadstools.
I often examined them with care, for traces
of these tiny revels, and I hoped for a glance
at the wee folk themselves. When I found them
not, I said, "Of course not, for if they danced
in my presence they would not be fairies, since no
mortal eyes have seen fairies. " Julia said, what I
firmly believed, that as soon as I disappeared they
came out and danced on their platform. So I was
careful never to destroy a toadstool.
Toads I thought ugly but interesting, and I often
caught them and held them in my hand. One day
103

104 A DAUGHTER OP THE PURITANS
Julia told me that toads produced warts. I had
three or four of those disfiguring appendages on my
hands and from that time I never touched a toad,
but played with them, keeping them in deep holes
dug in the ground. I had one especially large and
troublesome wart on my forefinger. I had applied
nitrate of silver, and it only made my finger sore,
and the wart black. Going to Julia, as usual with
my difficulties, she directed me to get out of bed
when the moon was full, go into the garden, pick a
bean, rub my warts with it, then bury it wheite no
one should know. I must forget the spot myseU.
I carried out the prescription to the letter. Slip
ping out of bed and softly stealing out of the door,
— my father was stUl up, reading a book, — I went
to the garden, opened a bean-pod, rubbed a bean
vigorously over the warts, and buried it . I forgot
about the occurrence for a few days until Julia
asked where my warts were. To my great sur
prise, not one was to be seen, and my fingers
remained perfectly smooth from that time. They
had all mysteriously disappeared, and for years I
was a firm believer in Julia's remedy. I do not
explain it, but relate it for an absolute fact. Julia
told me at the time to tell no one, as the warts
might come back. She and I were the only
possessors of this deUghtful secret.

A CURE FOR WARTS 105
Was this an illustration of "the influence of mind
over matter"? The curious thing about it was
that I had not noticed the absence of the warts
until Julia called my attention to it. I never
knew whether they disappeared gradually or all
at once.
I suffered greatly, in those days like most
children, from chilblains. They were supposed
to be inevitable, and came, perhaps, from wet
snow, our feet not being always properly pro
tected. Mattie and I had high boots, Uke those
which boys wore for winter, and we had rubber
boots for deep snow. Rubber shoes, I cannot re
member that we had. We wore close-fltting hoods
in cold weather, also tippets and mittens knitted
by mother, with good, warm coats. The boys of
those days knew nothing of overcoats. With
caps, tippets, and mittens they braved the coldest
weather. In summer we girls wore sunbonnets
and pantalettes. The latter were buttoned to
underdrawers, white on Sundays, nankeen on
week-days.

XXIV

BEES AND BILLY

My father kept bees, and some of the honey, as
that made in apple-blossom time, was deUcious.
Father was mightily afraid of bees, but often
had to hive the swarms himself. Usually, Mr.
Hurlbut, a neighbor, hived them for us, and he
was an expert. He had no fear, but would thrust
his hand into the mass of crawling things and let
them walk all over his hands and arms with never
a sting. Father would put on a veU, gloves, tie his
trousers over thick boots, and even then would get
badly stung. Many a time I have stayed home
from church to watch a hive which was nearly
ready to swarm, in order to follow the young bees
at a safe distance and see where they alighted.
This would, usually, be upon a low branch of
one of our apple trees. Then, when father came
home, we would spread a sheet upon the ground,
place a clean, empty hive over it, and shake the
branch vigorously. Or we would strike the branch
1 06

BEES AND BILLY 107
heavy blows with an axe. It was great fun to
see the insects drop and run fast into their new
home. I learned about queen bees, and some
times could distinguish them from the other bees,
by their size. I have often stood with father
back of the apiary and watched the busy work
ers making honeycomb. Once our horse, Billy,
grazing near the hives, happened to kick one
of them. Instantly the angry creatures came
flying out, red-hot with thoughts of vengeance.
At first BUly regarded them with mild astonish
ment, then clothing himself with wings swifter
than those of Pegasus, he ran mUes into the
country. He must, actually, have outrun the
bees, for soon they quieted down, and Billy came
home, a sadder and a wiser horse. Never again
could he be induced to go around that side of the
house, and the only time he ran away and smashed
the buggy, was when father attempted, for some
reason, to drive him there. Billy was a remark
able animal. He used to turn in his stall, with his
mouth press down the tongue of the latch of the
stable door, push the door open, and walk into the
yard. Then he would drink from the sunken
half-hogshead, stay awhile, and walk back to his
stall. Father turned the tongue of the latch
about, putting it on the outside. Billy lifted the

io8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
latch and obtained his liberty. After that father
let him do as he pleased. He said so much intelli
gence deserved reward. Billy died at the ripe
old age of about twenty-eight, well cared for until
the last, put on pasture and given no work to do.
Father had other and always good horses. He
loved driving, and I shared in this pleasure. He
and I went many summer days in the buggy, and
winter afternoons in the sleigh. We took in all
the country around, climbing hiUs and stopping
for the views which were fine, thus visiting, when
father had business, or merely for pleasure, EUing
ton, Tolland, Coventry, Bolton, Manchester, and
other towns. Sometimes we carried our lunch and
were gone all day. Often we took the big wagon
and the famUy went on an excursion to Enfield,
where the Shakers served good dinners, or to
Springfield, or even to Hartford for shopping. The
ride around Snipsic Lake was our favorite, and
then we would stop at the small cabin of Sarah,
an old Indian woman, who was credited with more
than worldly wisdom (Julia said that she could
read my very thoughts), leaving her papers and
magazines or something from our garden. She came
to our house sometimes selling dandelion greens or
cowslips, (marsh marigolds), I was rather afraid of
her. There was an old cedar tree on one of our rides,

BEES AND BILLY 109
under which father would stop and take off his hat
with a formal bow, a tribute to its antiquity. He
would then tell us stories of what might have
happened when wUd Indians roved these hills
and valleys. Perhaps in a nearby field there
would be a cow with a board fastened across her
homs. Father would say: "See what an un
comfortable thing it is to have a bad reputation.
That cow is ahnost blinded by the board, and
it is heavy for her to carry around. But she has
a bad reputation, that of jumping fences and
getting into somebody's corn, and so she has
to be punished. Perhaps she is quite cured of
jumping fences now, but nobody knows whether
she is or not, because she has a bad reputation."
It was while driving with father that, very
young, I learned to hold the reins and drive, and
I could harness and saddle a horse while still so
small that I had to stand on a box to reach his
back. When a few years older, in my early teens,
I often rode horseback ten or twelve miles, alone,
before breakfast. Those were delightful excur
sions, when I would get up at four, saddle my own
horse, and ride away with an easy canter, listening
to the early birds, finding flowers which I slid
from my horse to pluck. I would leave the horse
unhitched, and when ready, would spring from

IIO A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
the ground to the saddle. Usually Nellie, a gentle
mare, would wait for me. Once, in pure mis
chief, she walked slowly towards home, leaving me
to follow angry and tired. In those days we wore
a long riding skirt, and it was no easy matter to
walk and hold it out of the dust. When Nellie's
frolicsome mood was over, she stopped and
allowed me to jump on her back. After that she
was fastened when I went after flowers or branches.
On a winter's evening what a comfortable sound
the animals made munching their suppers which
father prepared while I held the lantern! He
always cut the hay, sprinkled it generously with
meal, threw in water, and thoroughly mixed all
with a big fork. Then he shoveled it into the
mangers, the horse and cow stamping and poking
their noses out, impatiently expectant. After
wards we made all tight and locked the barn, pass
ing through a covered way to the house. Father
said he could not sleep if he did not know the
animals were all right. What sweet smells came
from that loft of hay! It was mostly our own,
cut from our pastures. In mild weathef I often
studied my lessons or read a book, hah buried in
the hay.

xxv
A MAY-DAY PARTY
My father was devoted to the happiness of his
children, and among other things for us to play
with, made us a "see-saw." This often had
three or four boys and girls seated at each end and
one brave spirit balancing in the middle by step
ping to one side or the other. We rose and fell
eight or ten feet in the air, and as the heavy board
had a raised back at each end, there was little
danger of our falUng off. If we did I cannot
remember that we ever seriously hurt ourselves.
Our favorite playhouse was the arbor, an eight-
sided structure with broad seats and four wide
entrances. The whole between and over the en
trance spaces, was latticed and formed exceUent
ladders. We used to climb to the lattice above
the entrances whence we walked around the whole
arbor or jumped from the heights. This was a
thrilling thing to do, but I never took a dare from
the boys and many times I jumped from just one

112 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
round higher than Harry Hunt, our neighbor,
who, "stumped" me. My feet stung and my
head throbbed, but doubtless Harry's did too.
It was within this arbor that father arranged
for me a May-day party. We girls used to cele
brate the first day of May by twining baskets
of young willow twigs, filling them with traUing
arbutus which grew plentifuUy, near us, and hang
them during the evening, on the doors of the boys'
houses. The game was to ring the bell and run.
If the boy found the basket (and he was generally
on the alert), he might chase the giver, and if he
caught her it was aUowable to kiss her. She ran,
of course, but frequently got no farther than the
bushes in the yard, where she was Uable to be
caught. This one May-day party remains vivid
in my memory. Father proposed it instead of the
kissing game of which he and mother disapproved.
The prettiest girl among us was chosen to be
our queen. She had blue eyes, tight blonde curls
which were the despair of the rest of us, a soft pink
and white complexion. By means of her beauty
this girl ruled us all, we simply being eager to
do her will. Her discipUne consisted of the fate
ful words, "You mean thing! I wiU never play
with you again as long as I live." One thus
banished from her favor was neglected by the

A MAY-DAY PARTY 113
other girls, and felt alone and unhappy. It is
strange how chUdren adore beauty and submit to
the SpoUed one's whims. I must admit, however,
that Louisa's rule was gentle, for she was as ami
able as she was pretty, and so far as I remember,
just. She had a bright younger sister who played
with us, although she was nearer Mattie's age than
Louisa's and mine. One other girl, tall and com
manding, a brunette, with black, straight hair,
shared the supremacy with Louisa. She had a
stately carriage and was good in her studies which
counted for much. She Uved near me and we
were intimate friends for years. On this occasion,
Annie and I were the maids of honor, our duty
being to walk beside the queen and hold up her
long veU. I, being the hostess, had the right to
choose my place in the pageant. It never occurred
to me to be the queen, because I was neither pretty
nor popular. When I complained to mother that I
was not pretty, she said that I ought to thank God
for that, as it preserved me from many temptations.
I cannot remember that I felt the gratitude which
my mother recommended. My looks were those
of a wide-awake, healthy girl who cared naught for
her complexion, and seldom wore her sunbonnet.
My hair, for a few years allowed to curl, was then
cut and kept short, with mother for the tonsorial

114 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
artist. I always longed for curls and used to make
them out of shavings or dandelion stems, and
stick my round comb full of them, so that when
decorated, I must have looked Uke an Indian. As
to being a favorite, I was too eager to have my
own way to care for the desires of others. As for
being politic, I did not know the meaning of the
word. No, I was not popular in school, nor in
play, and I often sulked about this and went away
by myself. I once overheard father say: "What
Carol wants to do, it is almost impossible to
turn her from. Her mother and I let her do things
of which we do not approve, simply because we
dread the conflict with her will. " The fact was,
dear father could be coaxed to almost any extent,
and mother had to be the disciplinarian. When
she flnally said no, we submitted without further
argument. I used to beg her, "Mother, think
before you say anything. "
The May-day party was a success. After the
ceremony of crowning the queen, accompanied
with music and dialogue, improvised by father,
we walked in procession (there were twenty or
thirty of us) to the foot of the hill, to the "pond, "
just above my father's mUls. In this sheet of
water a small island lay, covered with hazel-nut
bushes, spring flowers, and a few oak trees. To

A MAY-DAY PARTY 115
this island father ferried us with a small boat.
We seated our queen upon a throne of boughs
which father cut for us, and partook of a picnic
luncheon which mother had put up. Then we
played and had a good time. Father often played
with us, assuming a character, as of a soldier or
captain of a ship.

XXVI
THANKSGIVING DAY
I CANNOT remember that Christmas was observed
in our family while I was a chUd. It savored too
much of popery. But the night before the New
Year we hung up our stockings, and found, in the
morning, a few gifts bunching them out, such as a
sUver piece in the toe, an apple, pop-corn and
candy. If such articles were needed, shoes or aprons
were added, and once I had a flne sled, while later
both of us girls had skates. The legend of Santa
Claus, we were told, was a sort of fairy story which
we were cautioned not to believe. We therefore
never watched the chimney for the descent of the
dear old saint with his reindeers. We had an ideal,
open, wood fire-place which would have fitted
beautifully into the tale, and I often wished it were
true. I had a way of making believe, and, men
tally, acting out things which I knew were not
true, and so half satisfying my love of the mar
velous and romantic. A wood fire was one of
Il6

THANKSGIVING DAY 117
father's fads, and nobody could plant the back
log as carefully as he, and cover with ashes so
that it would last all day. In the evenings we
children popped corn and roasted chestnuts among
the ashes, listening to father's stories, meanwhile.
He told us of Washington and Revolutionary times
speaking of the great leader with the utmost
reverence. Once, my parents being away for the evening, I
tried to be useful and covered up the fire with
ashes. Then, to make it look nice, I got out
the summer fire-board, and fitted it carefully into
its place. I took great credit to myself for this,
and was astonished, in the morning, to be told
that I had nearly set the house on fire, my father
and mother coming home just in time to pull away
the blazing board and throw it out of the door.
Had they been an hour later, probably nothing
could have saved the house. Then I had my
first lesson on what makes a fire burn, and I saw
how the board cover had sucked in the air from
below, ignited the slumbering ashes, and started
a fire. Thanksgiving was our day of days. We always
had company or went out to dinner on that day of
royal feasting. There was one family with whom
we united, more often at our house, for mother had

Ii8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
help, while ' ' Cousin Abby ' ' had not. The minister
and his family were generally included among the
guests. Great and exciting preparations were
begun days in advance. I stoned raisins, beat up
eggs, helped to stir the cake and make the mince
and pumpkin pies. We also had EngUsh plum
pudding. On Thanksgiving Day, father took the
sleigh if snow was on the ground, otherwise the
buggy, and drove to some houses of poor families,
leaving a chicken with a bunch of celery and other
vegetables. He had seen to it before that these
people had wood or coal. On these delightful oc
casions, I often went with him to hold the horse
while he delivered the basket. Among other recipi
ents of father's bounty were the inmates of the poor-
house, some of whom he knew personaUy. When
mother made her cranberry jelly, she often made a
big mould for the county's poor, and a pie or a
loaf of cake to help out their Thanksgiving. Ar
rived at home, and having given extra dinners
to the barn animals, we feasted on savory smells
until two o'clock when dinner was served. Of
course father had attended the union service in one
of our village churches, mother and I generally
staying at home in order to prepare the dinner.
Such turkeys for size and tenderness! Father
bought from a farmer who gave us the largest and

THANKSGIVING DAY 119
best he had. It was always perfectly cooked with
just the right "stuffing." Scalloped oysters,
chicken pie and salad, mashed potatoes and other
vegetables, all were put on the table together and
heaped on the plates. Father used to measure
our height and weigh us before and after dinner.
The weighing machine was provided by a store at
the foot of the hill which was open a short time in
the afternoon for a few loungers who, seated upon
barrels, smoked after-dinner pipes. In the evening
we roasted apples before the fire which was roused
to its best, cracked nuts, and played blindman's
buff. Father would try to peep out from under
the handkerchief, when with much laughter we
tied it tighter. A long season of family worship
appropriately fimshed the day, during which I
generally fell asleep and had to be carried to bed.
After a few years donations of fruits and vegetables
were taken to the church, piled around the pulpit
stairs, and given, the best to our minister, the
rest to the village poor.
I find, among the old papers a "program" for
Thanksgiving, written by myself, dated Nov.
25, 1852, "For J. N. Stickney's family. " It reads
thus: (I copy verbatim)
I Arrange Toilet.
2 Barn work, by father.

120 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS

3

Breakfast

4

Singing

family.

5

Family Worship

6

Singing

7

Rehearse music

8
Attend church
9
Dinner
10
Mother's story
II
Duett
Carol and Mattie
12
Song
Father
13
Duett
Father and mother
14
BHnd mans Buff
In this connection I may quote a "toast" of
mother's for the Fourth of July. It iUustrates her
quiet humor. It is written in her fine, delicate
penmanship, almost undecipherable now, the paper
on which it was written being so yellow with age.
There is no date.
The memory of the man
That owned the land
That raised the corn
That fed the goose
That bore the quill
That made the pen
That wrote the Declaration of Independence.
XXVII
FAST DAY
The usual Fast day, in April, proclaimed by the
Governor of Connecticut on the Good Friday of
the Episcopal churches, was a source of comfort
to my soul. The year that I was nine years old, I
announced that I was going to keep Fast day.
Mother said nothing. I refused the breakfast
that was prepared for the children, and after
family prayers, retired to my room to spend the
day in prayer, meditation, and fasting. I stuck to
it for an hour, then the beautiful out-of-doors
called me irresistibly. I remembered that one
could worship anywhere, under a tree as well as
in one's "closet." I closed my Bible and stole
downstairs. At first I walked solemnly about,
then played with the other chUdren, and forgot
about the sacred character of the day. By noon
my appetite was frightful. I threw good resolu
tions to the wind, and ate the comfortable dinner
provided for us. I felt guUty, but mother said that

122 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
I had done very well, and that children were not
expected to keep a fast as it might hurt their
health. She encouraged me to run about and
play all afternoon.
About this time I began to get very religious. I
use this expression advisedly, for I played just as
hard and found just as much enjoyment in life
as before. It was a hymn that first woke me up
about my soul. A charge to keep I have ;
A God to glorify.
A never-dying soul to save
And fit it for the sky.
Letters written when I was eight and nine years
old show evidences of growing piety. Several of
these have been preserved and were found, after
my father's death, in a note-book which he carried
in his coat pocket. The blessed man had treasured
them, worthless pieces of paper, because they were
written by his beloved eldest daughter. I give
them exactly as they were written, spelling,
punctuation, and capital letters. There are few
mistakes in spelling, as children were well drilled in
those days, in Webster's Spelling Book, but of
punctuation I had no idea. I was visiting my
aunts in Staten Island, with mother, when I wrote
to my sister under the date of October 20, 1852.

FAST DAY 123
Dear sister.
My father's letter says that you shall have a few
lines from me and indeed they are a few. I am now at
statem island, and our chestnuts are all gone do you
have many at home. Well save some for I dont
have many here, but I have sweet potatoes and I
should like to bring you a bushel. I suppose you think
of mother and me often, I think of you and sometimes
I am ready to cry aloud and really wish to be at home,
ah happy home, where can be found a place like thee.
I mean to learn the verses of home again when I am
realy in that place for I find they are perfectly true.
sister my happiest hours are in a place where no one is
and think of home sweet home or take a testament and
read of jesus christ and then kneel and pray to him,
and I pray for thee that thou mayest have a new heart.
I think I have obtained that. I often find comfort
from prayer and if you would pray with your whole
heart you would often find comfort when you could
find it nowhere else. But here comes Louisa and says
I must take a walk, so good bye.
After reaching home, I wrote to my cousin
Louisa Hale of Staten Island.
My dear cousin. I believe I have not answered the
letter you sent me a while ago, excuse me for I seem to
like to play and ramble in the fields better than write.
This summer has been unusually pleasant, it has
not been very warm neither cold, but just right, in the
spring however, it was quite cold after mother planted
her seeds not one came up.
I suppose you know that we have a little sister she is
now five months old and weighs 19 pounds. She is

124 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
very heavy healthy and fat My brother is very
wayward fat and healthy but not so fat as his sister.
Mattie is 6 years old, lisps a little and in general is a
good natured girl.
I am the oldest and last. I am very well and would
like to know if you are too. I suppose you go to
school but I dont. Give my love to grandma.
My mother's garden which is referred to in the
above letter was a source of great pleasure to her
and to the many neighbors who received from it
floral gifts. A yeUow Harrison rose grew near the
entrance porch, not far from a sweetbriar rose. A
climbing red rose, boorsault, I believe it was
called, also a queen of the prairie, and a Baltimore
beUe encircled the veranda posts. "Jack ' ' roses and
the old-fashioned blush were scattered here and
there along the top of the terrace. A flower bed
over which mother spent much time with trowel
and small rake extended the whole way along the
terrace. Here were daffodils and clumps of iris,
together with a large variety of annuals, the seeds
of which in this one cold spring failed to come up.
Mignonette, monkshoods, zinnias, marigolds, lark
spurs, columbines, and pinks I distinctly remember.
A flowering almond and a twin honeysuckle were in
another bed at the side of the house which was de
voted to shrubs. Here were also two or three fine
lilacs, including a white and a Persian . In the early

FAST DAY 125
spring tulips came up, yellow and red. Once, with
considerable ceremony, mother stuck a twig of
weeping wiUow into the ground. It grew into a
large tree and was always called mother's willow.
The following is part of a letter written that
same summer, of 1852, to my father who had gone
to New Orleans on business and for his health.
He had had a severe attack of inflammatory
rheumatism. My dear father,
I was very glad that you had such a nice time at
New Orleans we have got 7 little chickens. We took a
walk up Fox hill and saw a good many flowers. We
have got a bossy calf. I went to the concert, (mis
sionary concert) last Sunday and I will tell you the
stories, there was a little girl that went out very
early one beautiful day and saw the dew on the grass
and it looked beautiful and in the afternoon it was all
gone and she asked her father where they were and
he said they had gone up in the clouds, but at evening
he called her to look at her drops, and she saw a rain
bow. A little boy was flying his kite one very dark
evening when his teacher came up and asked him
what he was doing, and he told her he was flying a
kite and the teacher said he could not see any kite but
he felt it pull.
In the fall of that year I began to go to school.
I think the first year the school was held in a house
on the corner, opposite the hotel, upstairs, and

126 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Miss Manning was the teacher. Later a drug
store occupied that building. The brick building
on School Street was then in course of erection
and was ready for occupation the foUowing year.
I do not remember in which school the following
essay was written and read before the school, but
it was in the year 1853, when I was ten years old.
THE PLEASURES OF MAY
May is one of the months of the year and a beautiful
one it is. It has many pleasures some of which I will
name, it has many flowers and children love to pick
them. The grass is generally green and the great oak
trees make a beautiful shade, the lambs also are
gamboling and playing. We hear and see birds, some
are blue, some red and some all colors it is a beautiful
sight to see flowers peeping through the garden fences.
There is a great variety of colors and they look more
lively than if they were all of one color. Sometimes
we have a beautiful shower and then a rainbow then
the flowers look fresh, the grass looks greener and the
trees hang with shining drops, the spring of water
gives us beautiful drinks which refresh us. Ought
we not to be thankful for so many pleasures ? I think
so. Let us all try to do good since God does so mucb
to make us happy.

XXVIII
DEATH OF MY LITTLE SISTER
My first really great affliction came with the
death of my little sister Lizzie, when I was nearly
nine years old. She was a winsome, happy little
cherub, sweet of face, dainty and fairy-like in
her ways, and she gladdened us with her presence
for sixteen months. On a Saturday which I
well remember, she was running and playing out
of doors, the picture of health, while I watched
her from a window where I sat sewing. The
foUowing day she sickened, and in the night of
Wednesday, mother called me from my bed to
see my sister for the last time. I had loved her so,
and mother thought it well thus early, to impress
my mind with serious things. Cholera infantum
had wrecked this little life. In the sitting-room
my father sat, holding the baby on a pillow in his
lap. Tears were falling down his face. Mother
was sUently crying. The doctor, our warm,
personal friend, was leaning his elbow on the man-
127

128 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
tel, his head turned away, and he too was weeping.
Only the baby was still and calm, and the room was
very quiet. Father said : ' ' Take a last look at your
little sister, for God is caUing her to Himself, and
the angel messenger is already here." I looked
at the ceUing to see the angel messenger, but he
was invisible. I do not think I cried. I was too
frightened and awe-struck. I had known my
baby was very ill, but had not thought she would
really leave us. And now, she took no notice
of me who could always bring a smile to her face.
Soon mother led me away although I begged to
stay. In my own room I fell upon my knees and
prayed passionately that God would caU his
messenger back and let Lizzie get weU. Then
comforted, I got into bed and slept. Waking
early in the morning, the house was dreadfuUy
still, and with foreboding, I crept downstairs.
Lying in her crib was the marble-like form of my
little sister. With a scream I feU unconscious
to the floor. I remember nothing of what followed .
Mother told me afterward, that I was iU in bed
for some days, and did not know of the funeral.
When at last, my strength came back, I arose
and went about listless and uninterested. The
truth was, that not only was I terribly stricken
with the loss of my darling, but that God had not

DEATH OF MY LITTLE SISTER 129
heard my prayer and I no longer believed in what
was called "the power of prayer." There must
come a time in the Ufe of every thinking and
observing person, — it came early to me — when we
realize that the world is governed by fixed laws,
even in matters of life and death, and that our
selfish and puny petitions have no effect upon the
natural result. It is fortunate that we cannot turn
the Almighty's blessed order into confusion. It is
unfortunate that right views, consistent with the
dignity of the Ruler of the Universe, and the habit
of prayer, cannot be given to children, so that they
shall not be surprised into distrust, when the
sharp lessons of experience are learned. That
view of the New Testament teaching which says
that every prayer shall be answered, if only prayed
fervently enough and with many repetitions, is
pernicious. Prayer is communion between the
heart of the great Unseen Spirit and our souls.
It is not mainly comprised of requests, which often
are childish and superstitious. Prayer is the get
ting acquainted with God.
When mother discovered my state of mind, she
talked gently with me about the grief shared by us
both, about the sin of rebellion against God's will,
and the necessity of perfect resignation to that
will. She said that some day we would under-

I30 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
stand all His ways which were dark to us now. It
brought us very near to each other. GraduaUy I
came to feel as she wished me to. All this hap
pened before I united with the church, and was,
perhaps, more than anything else, a factor in the
intense reUgious experience which I shall attempt
to describe in the following pages.

XXIX
UNITING WITH THE CHURCH
In the spring after Lizzie's death, unknown to
mother, I called upon our pastor, told him of my
longing to be a Christian, and asked him to pray
with me. He did so, and he said that if my par
ents were wiUing I might come into the church.
They, however, wished me to wait a year, rightly
thinking that I was too young to understand the
real meaning of the step I thought I was ready to
take. Perhaps too, they discovered in my reli
gious aspirations a sense of the importance I might
assume in being a conspicuous example of early
piety. I think that, quite unconsciously, such a
motive may have influenced me, especially as I
recall that I told father I was sorry I had been
baptized in infancy, as I would prefer to be now
immersed. I wanted to be thorough. One thing
that they did not discover was, that somehow,
within the "fold, " I felt that I would be safer than
if I remained longer without, and this thought
131

132 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
influenced me strongly. I waited a year, however,
and then was permitted to have my wish. The
next May, before I had completed my eleventh
year, I walked up the church aisle alone, and
responded audibly to the questions asked, "in the
sight of God, angels, and men." I did not feel
timid or reluctant, because I had worked myself
up into a state of exaltation which made me
oblivious of the congregation.
Before meeting with the committee, father asked
me to write a consecration of my whole life to God,
adding a prayer that I might keep my church vows.
He left me in a room alone to do this. I had no
more idea what to write than a baby, but immedi
ately there was the temptation to put on paper
something very flne. Seeing Doddridge's Rise and
Progress in the book-case, I opened it and found
two consecrations for young converts. The first
was much too long. So I copied the second, alter
ing here and there a word as I could without chang
ing the sense. I had not intended to pass this off
as my own composition, but when father took it for
that I let it stand. Seeing Doddridge lying on the
table, he said: "I see that you have found help in
this. You could not do better." He turned
to the two consecrations, and made me read mine
whUe he compared it with first the one, then the

UNITING WITH THE CHURCH 133
other. I said that I had partly copied the shorter
one because it expressed my feelings better than
anything I could have have written myself. He
agreed that I would do well to live up to those
words. I think he secretly admired my cleverness
in finding a way out of a situation that he had made
too hard for me. Father showed it to the minis
ter, adding that I had taken it mostly from the
Rise and Progress. I was rather uncomfortable
about this act, and felt that it was not appropriate
to my union with the church, and soon after my
admission destroyed my consecration.
The committee before whom I went to be
examined for fitness for the step I was about to
take, consisted of the minister, father, another
deacon, and two other men whom I have for
gotten. It was an ordeal which, I think, the
committee found more embarrassing than I.
Deacon Johnson asked me to relate the story of
my conversion. I was confused and answered
that I did not know when I was converted. My
pastor endorsed this and added that it was the
best kind of conversion when a child did not
know when her religious life began; that I was,
in fact, one of the Lord's little ones consecrated
to God's service before my birth, who, by means
of godly training and early developed conscien-

134 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
tiousness could point to no moment of my life
when my own will had not been in complete ac
cord with the Heavenly Father's. A few questions
about what was in the church manual (which
I had been instructed carefully to read), and I
was admitted. For a time after this, I went
about very serious and partly absorbed. I lec
tured my schoolmates about their duty, but soon
the barrier of church membership between them
and me melted away in the play of recesses and
holidays, and my natural vivacity reasserted
itself in the healthy processes of growth and
play.

xxx
RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS
In trying to analyze my religious state at this
time, if a child of ten years can be said to have a
religious state, I find my conceptions due, mainly,
to the teaching of the day, which tended to culti
vate the introspective faculty, and which con
stantly emphasized personal responsibility. A
religion of fear and a rigid sense of duty domin
ated inclination and even emotion. One could
not help sinning and all sin would be found out in
the next world if not in this. Faith was the only
thing that counted and faith was so difficult to un
derstand. It seemed to be a voluntary act, yet
was said to be God's gift. Our sins prevented us
from exercising it. If it could be worked out like a
problem in arithmetic, I would have been willing
to take infinite pains to find the answer. I once
asked father what faith was, and he tried to explain.
I had read in a Sunday-school book of a girl who
asked her father that question and he took her
135

136 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
to the top of the cellar stairs while he went to the
bottom. He then called upon her to jump. "It
is aU dark," she said; "I don't dare to jump."
"Jump, my daughter," he commanded, and she
gathered up her courage and jumped. He caught
her in his arms and then told her that hers was an
act of faith. I hoped that my father would illus
trate, in some such thrUling manner, faith, to me.
I was no wiser after his verbal definition, although
surely that was not his fault.
Father gave me for a daily motto, the verse,
"Thou God seest me." This became so vivid
that, often in the midst of my romps and plays, I
would suddenly think of that great eye fixed upon
me, and would cease my play, go off by myseh
and ask myself in much disquiet, whether I had
done or said any wrong thing. I remembered
the prisoner who was placed in a cell with a
hole in it through which an eye always looked.
He was made insane by the awful punishment. In
the Ten Commandments which I learned early and
often repeated, it was said that God was ' ' a jealous
God, visiting the sins of the fathers upon the chil
dren unto the third and fourth generation." I
asked my mother if I had to be punished for my
grandparents' sins. She said, in my case, I had
such good grandparents on both father's and

RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS 137
mother's sides that I need not be troubled. My
own shortcomings were enough for me to look
out for. She added that parents and grandparents
ought to be especially careful not to sin, as she had
no doubt their descendants suffered from such
sins. If a man got drunk they might also want
to drink; or if he stole and was put in jail not only
would his family suffer for want of his support,
but they also might become thieves, since children
had a tendency to grow up like their parents.
This was my first lesson in heredity.
Of course I was told that we should love God,
and that "perfect love casteth out fear." After
a time, not discovering much love in my heart
for God, I began to doubt my acceptance at the
' ' throne of grace, ' ' and wished someone would
speak to me about my soul. During the vacations
of our pastor, those who came to fill the vacancy
stayed at our house. I often walked to Sunday
evening meeting with our guest, the minister, and
hoped he would become my confessor. One of
them came near filling that office to me. He
began, "My dear child," — now it is coming,
I thought delightedly, only how these ministers
' ' dear child ' ' you. The question came, ' ' Have you
ever thought about your soul's salvation ? ' ' With
out premeditation I answered, "Oh yes, I joined

138 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
the church last spring." Callously the minister
said: "Oh, I am so glad! How lovely it is to
see our lambs coming so early into the fold. The
church needs them. They will be saved many
temptations which would beset them if they
waited untU late. And if all would thus come
the future of the church would be insured." I
was angry. He ought to have said: "That is not
the question, my child. Many church members
have no right to be there, having never experi
enced the true love of God. Is your heart right ?
Are you among the redeemed who are saved by
the precious blood of Christ?" That was what
the minister in the Sunday-school book said to the
little girl, also a church member, and she burst
into tears, which I was ready to do, and said,
as I would have said, ' ' Oh, sir, I am afraid I have
no right to be in the church, for my first love has
grown cold, and I have no comfort in prayer or
reading the Bible," After that, he would have
talked comfortingly to me, and assured me that a
lively view of my sins was necessary to a beUever
whose first virtue should be humUity, and that he
was sure that I must be a true child of God.
But nobody talked to me and I stumbled along
as best I could.

XXXI
MEDICAL PRACTICE
Since my infancy I had been troubled with
enlarged tonsils which, at times, threatened to
suffocate me. According to the medical practice
of the day, blisters were produced on my neck by
the application of a red ointment, also leeches were
placed over the swollen parts to suck the blood.
I well remember the worm-like things, from whose
bodies, after they fell off, gorged, the doctor
pressed out the blood, putting them in a bottle
of water for future use. It seems to me we re
covered from our ailments and kept well in spite
of the professors of medicine, rather than with
their help. Blood-letting had not gone out of
practice. I once held the basin while my mother
was bled. Mother praised me, saying that she
fainted when she was called upon for that service.
As I never fainted in all my life, I sometimes
wished I could accomplish that act, gracefully of
course, when it would have been appropriate to the
139

140, A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
occasion. If there is one thing more than another
for which we should be most thankful to-day, it is
for the advance made in practice of medicine,
surgery, and general sanitation. Disease germs
had not been discovered then, neither had anti
septic surgery come into use. Dentistry and
all minor operations were performed without
alleviation of pain, although only a few years
later "laughing gas" was given by a lecturer to
my class in natural philosophy in Wheaton Semi
nary to those members who cared to try it. I did
so and danced slowly around the platform to the
great amusement of other class members. And I
seem to remember that chloroform was occasion
ally used in major operations. Of that I am not
quite sure.
From a letter written to my father in August,
1852, I take this extract:
I am glad to tell you that both your children are
better, so you need not come home to-night; I am
about as well and nothing but the leech bites look
bad; yesterday Mattie was some better, to-day she is
better: the doctor still comes to see us and I took a
ride with him yesterday about as far as two miles on a
road I never saw before.
We received your letter and had a little curiosity
that you should write so soon.
Mother told me not to write a long letter because she

MEDICAL PRACTICE 141
should not, I must therefore draw my words to a
close by saying that the children send their love, and
as soon as you open it be careful for out will pop four
kisses and smack you four times each, you must
know that I made half the love and sent one kiss.
Your affectionate chicken (as you sometimes call
me). Among the letters of this time which have been
preserved is one from mother to father. In it she
tells of her struggles to convert her maids from
the Roman Catholic faith. The feeling then of
Protestants against CathoUcs was intense. I am
sure my mother thought that the souls of her
maids were committed to her care while they were
with her, to be saved or lost as she did her duty
by them. The letter says:
I The priest came yesterday and last night the girls
went to confession, and after they came back I had a
long talk with them on the subject, in which they were
completely used up, and I think have had their
thoughts set in a new train. I hope it may do them
some good. But I am sure nothing but the Spirit of
God can fathom and enlighten such ignorance. I can
pray for them and sometimes I feel that is all I can do.
Mother insisted that her maids should come to
family prayers, but as this interfered with their
breakfast hour, sometimes she compromised by
making the rule applicable only on Sunday morn-

142 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
ings. She was taking her maid to church with her
one Sunday when the priest came up the hill,
grasped the poor thing who had no voice in the
matter, by the arm, and marched her down the
hill to his own church. That morning he gave
out notice that no one in his parish should live in
service with Mrs. Stickney, and for some time
after, mother was obliged to obtain her maids
from her own denomination. The maid in ques
tion was taken to the priest's house and her
clothes were sent for. She never came back
to us.

XXXII
VISIT TO new YORK
The summer of 1853 was a memorable one for
me, it being the time of my first long visit to New
York. My aunts and step-grandmother had
moved from Staten Island to 31st Street, New
York City. A letter written to father in May of
that year, just before the visit, says :
The scarlet fever is round the town and I have
had it, but I am well enough to go to school this morn
ing. ... I suppose you would like to know how I get
along with the piano I have learned all perfect that I
was practising when you went away and half of a
waltz. Mattie and I take turns sleeping with mother
now you are gone and like it very well.
The grass is growing very fast and the birds are
beginning to sing and everything is so pleasant that I
think recess is the best part of school, the gooseberrys
are leaved out finely, and so are the currants, and Mrs
Roses cherries are blossomed.
This letter is signed Caroline. About this
time I felt that a more dignified name than Carol
143

144 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
(I was nearly ten years old), would suit me better.
Later, in my teens, I called myself Lina, but that
name never took very well in the family, and father
compromised with Carrie which has been my fa
miUar name since. In a long correspondence with
one of my schoolmates who moved to Hartford,
I called myself Jacob, while she was Ruth.
The principal reason why I went to New York
was that my throat remained diseased, and I
was taken to a surgeon who, with an instrument
like a pair of scissors, cut off the tonsils and put
them into a bottle of brandy where they swelled
like a sponge and appeared most formidable.
I took no ansesthetic, and sat quiet while first
one, then the other, was cut. I weU remember
how sore my throat was for some days after,
but the trouble was cured. Dentistry was also an
object of the visit, and was well done by Doctor
Hawes on, I think. Spring Street. After that,
at the invitation of my aunts, I was left for a
three months' visit. Mother's youngest haU-
sister was only ten years older than I, and she
considered herself responsible for much of my
upbringing. In my thoughts she figured as the
personification of the world of culture and fashion,
in short of dashing young ladyhood. I often
wished I could get rid of my country manners, and

VISIT TO NEW YORK 145
be stylish, like her. At the beginning of this visit,
she made for me a plaid, green siUc dress, the most
beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had, also, a
new parasol, and, to crown all, a pair of gray kid
gloves. Oh the pleasant smell of those first kid
gloves! To this day I love gray kids, and their
scent carries me back to a proud little girl who
walked the streets of the great city or rode in the
"bus" to the Battery and back quite alone, dressed
in green silk and perfectly gloved. As my aunt
was studying the piano under a German professor,
it was thought well for me to have a few lessons
from the same teacher. He smelt of boot-blacking
and knocked my knuckles with a lead pencil. Once
I ran from the room and absolutely refused to
take another lesson. My father continued to be my
only teacher for many years, and surely a daughter
might have had a worse. For whatever I did, it
seemed wonderful to him and he predicted a fine
musical future for me. Among other delights of
this visit to New York was a girls' gymnasium, of
which I became a member and where I performed
wonderful stunts of jumping and climbing. My
springboard jump was considered a quite star per
formance, being equaled by none other of the class.
And I climbed high to the ceiling on all sorts of
curious ladders, coming down swinging underneath.

146 A DAUGHTER OP THE PURITANS
holding on by my hands alone. My free life at
home had made me an expert in climbing, also at
swinging on paraUel bars, and my muscles were
well developed.
There were some matters about which I did not
need to blush before my city relatives. Our speech
at home was correct, as our parents were very care
ful of their own conversation, allowing no slang or
ungrammatical talk. Certain common expressions,
as "guess" for "think," "fix" for "arrange," and
' ' you know, ' ' disgusted father. He would say, ' ' No,
I do not know, and if I did, you would not need to
tell me." Father was something of a phUosopher,
and many of his sayings occur to me now and then.
When we complained of the weather or circum
stances generally, he would say, ' ' Let us be thankful
that it is no worse with us than it is. " When we said
that we did not mean to do certain wrong things,
he would say, ' ' Did you mean not to do it ? " If we
pleaded lack of time, he would tell us : ' You have
all the time there is; the President of the United
States has no more." Father was a great reader
and mother had had a girls' seminary education.
We children had no excuse for being lax in our
speech or careless in our writing. Father said that
mother was ' ' a natural bom speller, ' ' and there was
no need to refer to a dictionary when she was near.

XXXIII
the high SCHOOL
The school which I now attended, became an
important part of my life. In the new high school,
I was admitted to the youngest class. I sat with
other small children in the front row of desks.
These were double and we could choose our seat-
mates. Back of me sat about one hundred and
fifty boys and girls, graduated in age and acquire
ments to the senior class of which I stood much in
awe and who occupied the last rows of desks.
One of our principals had a projecting front
tooth. His name was Mr. Cannon. A paper
was written by the seniors and read every Saturday
moming. Among the jokes was this, "A tooth
from the mouth of a cannon. " This was the occa
sion of a dreadful scene. When the offended
principal inquired who had perpetrated this piece
of maUcious fun, a boy in the rear of the room
stood and confessed. Mr. Cannon dragged him by
his coat collar to the front, tore off the boy's coat,
147

148 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and began to chastise him furiously. Other boys
sprang to the rescue and there was a free-for-all
fight, in which the master was knocked to the floor
and well pounded. We small children looked on
much frightened. School was dismissed and Mr.
Cannon departed with clothes torn and nose bleed
ing. He soon left town, the assistant taking his
place for a short time. It was an era in which
whipping for smaU offenses, even failures in recita
tions, was the prevalent mode of punishment. The
master often had to prove his physical superiority
by overcoming a mob of boys before he could estab
lish successful discipline. I have seen boys made to
stand on one foot for a stated time, while every
time the culprit dropped his other foot to the floor
he felt the teacher's whip. The dunce cap was in
use in my day, and a stupid boy was made to
wear it, kicking his heels in a corner.
Mr. Cannon was succeeded by a very popular
principal, Mr. Strong, kind, gentlemanly, and
helpful. When the boys liked the teacher there
was nothing they would not do to help him in his
discipline. I was once sent to the principal's
private room, I think, for whispering. I was
much frightened, but Mr. Strong was very kind
and only said that I must be a good girl and obey
the rules, and set a right example, for, he said, we

THE HIGH SCHOOL 149
all, even so young a child as I, had influence for
good or ill. I promised and was liberated. Once
the sweet lady assistant kept me after school and
talked with me for a few minutes while I continued
obdurate and sulky. Finally she burst into tears
as she said, "Why don't you help me instead
of making it hard for me?" I put my arms around
her neck and wept with her as I promised to be a
model of good behavior. And I kept my promise
so well that she used to smile at me and caU me her
little assistant. This teacher was Miss GilfiUan, a
dear, sweet woman, incapable of a harsh word, and
much too gentle for us half -tamed youngsters.
One of my letters to my father, dated June, 1852,
ended with the startling announcement :
I have heard said there is going to be a caravan
to day behind the tavern, and that Mr Strong has
paid 10 dollars for the four schools to march down
and stay from 4 in the afternoon till 6, folks say there
is to be one rhinoceros.
No wonder Mr. Strong was popular.
After Mr. Strong, Mr. Turner came, an excel
lent man who held the position as long as I re
mained in the school. He was rather slow, and
anything but brilliant, but, on the whole, was liked
by his pupils. In his morning prayer (schools
were opened with reading of Scripture and prayer

ISO A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
in those days), he used often to say, "We are
prone to do evil as the sparks are prone to fly
upward. " It was a puzzle to me for a long time,
what prone meant, as to my mind it suggested,
lying down. He would petition that "we might
come to our last day on earth Uke a shock of corn
fully ripe for the grave." To my mind a shock
was appropriate to death, but why corn should be
"ripe for the grave, " I could not imagine. When
the committee came in to examine us, always an
exciting time, Mr. Turner would write upon the
black-board for us to parse, this sentence, "A man
of straw was prostrated." We had this so many
times that we, naturally, became expert in its an
alysis. " 'Man' is the subject; 'was prostrated' is
the predicate. 'A man of straw' is the logical sub
ject. 'Man' is limited by the indefinite article 'a'
and by the phrase, 'of straw, ' ' ' etc. I always had
a mental picture of the wretched creature lying on
the ground. While this teacher was writing on the
blackboard, he would tell us that he had eyes in
the back of his head, and that no mischief could
escape his notice simply because his back was
turned to us. I fully believed this, and sought for
the eyes hidden in the mass of reddish hair which
clustered around his head. For, suddenly, he
would turn around and catch the sceptical boy ?t

THE HIGH SCHOOL 151
some mischief. A punishment would invariably
follow, and not always a light one.
It seemed as if a teacher's especial duty was to
surprise a pupil in whispering, — the cardinal sin, —
or other misdemeanor, and punish him for it.
There was a sort of rivalry between teacher and
scholar as to how many rules could be broken
by the one without discovery by the other.
After I was married, my husband and I taught
in the Mt. Auburn Young Ladies' School, near
Cincinnati, and I was given an intermediate
grade where four classes were seated for study and
work. I had no rules except that my recitations
must not be disturbed. Nobody could have had a
quieter room of seventy-five girls, or a pleasanter,
happier set of pupUs.
But boys are said to be harder to manage than
girls. I have taught both and think not. The
business of a teacher is to teach, and nearly all
children, even the very young, can acquire loyalty
to the ideals of the school and be given a reasona
ble amount of liberty. But a method without
rules and punishment, would have been accounted
madness in my day.
In winter the boys used to draw the girls to the
Rockville school on their sleds. Great was the
rivalry among us girls to have as our devoted

152 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
swain, the boy with the largest and swiftest sled.
For some years George Henry Lewis had what I
considered the finest sled with smooth, bright
runners. He lived among the hills two miles east
of us and had far to come. He would often call for
me, tuck me up on the sled, and draw me to school.
Our sessions were two, the first lasting from nine
till twelve, the second from one till four. One
recess of fifteen minutes broke each session, giving
us time to eat the big apples which formed an im
portant part of the curriculum. In winter if we
were detained, it was dark before we reached our
homes. The fun was great on stormy days when
but few scholars were present and the regularity of
class work was suspended. Then we would cuddle
around the stove, dry our boots and talk with
each other, all rules being off for the day. Once
the boys put red pepper on the stove and drove
us all home again. I was seldom absent or tardy,
the latter being an especial disgrace. Heavy snow
storms and deep drifts did not deter me. During
morning devotions, doors were locked and late
comers had to stand, shivering, in the cold cloak
rooms until all were admitted, a shame-faced lot.
We did good work in this school which I attended
untU my fifteenth year. Arithmetic was my
favorite study, compound fractions, and partial

THE HIGH SCHOOL 153
payments being especially delightful. When a
difficult problem was given out, several of us were
allowed to sit together in one of the small side-
rooms, and compare results. We were thorough
believers in co-education. An occasional lunch
eon on watermelon or cheese and crackers did not
hinder our pencils from fiying as we considered
the intricacies of clock problems; foxes chased
by hounds in which the fox always had a good
start, but fell a victim in the end ; fields of curious
shapes surrounded by fences of which we had to
compute the cost including labor; boxes of haU-
inch wood very complicated in the corners, of
which we had to estimate the amount of lumber
required; also carpets of stated widths, whose
lengths and cost we had to find, when fitted to
oddly shaped rooms,- — all these and many others,
ingenious and puzzling, were found in Greenleaf s
Arithmetic, and in the "Teacher's Book without
Answers." Our finest mathematicians were two of the boys,
Herbert James and Fenelon McCollum, but some
of the girls, although slower, were almost as accu
rate. Of one of these boys the story with regard to
his powers of concentration was proudly told that
once, when he was solving a problem, a thunder-
shower passed over the country without his know-

154 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
ledge. Both these old friends are still living
successful, busy lives. Besides arithmetic we
studied grammar according to the old methods,
and geography with large wall maps over which
we traced with pointers, while we repeated in a
sing-song tone of voice, the names of the bays,
lakes, rivers, and mountains of the world. Reading
and writing were given a prominent place, and our
copy-books taught us nuggets of wisdom while
we shaped the letters according to the Spencerian
standard. Thus we learned that "Honesty is
the best Policy" and "The Good, the Virtuous,
and the True alone are Happy." A blot was
unpardonable. Spelling, in which we often had contests, two
of the best spellers choosing sides and spelUng
each other down, was thoroughly taught. Com
positions were written and read after being criti
cized, and the boys "spoke pieces" gesturing
according to the sweeps of the arm pictured in
Lovell's Young Speaker.
No languages were taught, and as father wished
me to learn Latin, I took lessons from our minister.
In the modern sense of the word, this was not
a graded school, but we accompUshed good
results, and enjoyed more fun than the pupUs do in
a more strictly classified school. When it was left

THE HIGH SCHOOL 155
to the pupils to determine whether we should have
a Saturday holiday, we voted to continue the
morning session, thus forcing the poor teachers
to be on duty half the day. We compromised by
allowing "Miscellaneous Exercises" to be given
on that day, and we admitted visitors to hear our
compositions and dialogues. Recess was half an
hour long, and we might be dismissed a little
early. Further concessions we refused to make.
In one dialogue which was called "When the Cat's
asleep the Mice will Play," I was selected to be
the teacher of a school. I wore spectacles and a
big cap, and, of course, I was armed with a whip.
In the course of the play I fell asleep, a fact which
was announced by loud snores. The pupils re
presented the mice and performed antics which
were astonishing. The teacher suddenly awoke
and brandishing the whip, quickly restored order.
My success in this was so pronounced that I con
cluded I had much histrionic ability, which, later,
I hoped to prove on the stage of some wicked
theatre. The very word theatre was spoken with
bated breath, since it stood for the worst wiles of
Satan. But I determined that if ever I should be
where there was a theatre, and I could go unob
served, I would have a seat in some dark comer
and see this forbidden thing.

XXXIV
INFLUENCE OF REVOLUTIONARY TIMES
While at this school, we were not so far removed,
in time, from the Revolutionary War, but that its
incidents figured largely in our reading books and
school songs. One verse of the latter I remember,
with the tune.
Oh take your taxes home, King George,
The tyrant's rule is o'er.
We love our cup of tea full well.
But we love our freedom more.
Then overboard it goes, my boys,
Where darkling waters roar;
We love our cup of tea full well.
But we love our freedom more.
Some of the titles of our reading-book selections
were, "Our Native Land"; "You Cannot Conquer
America," by Eari Chatham; "The War Song":
"Battle of Bunker HUl"; "Strike for Liberty";
"Adams and Jefferson" ; " Glory of Washington" ;
and "The FUght of the Muskogee Indian." There
156

REVOLUTIONARY TIMES 157
were many others of the same character, selections
which, I fancy, in the cultivation, not only of pa
triotism, but of good literary style, would compare
well with the selections foimd in school readers
to-day. To us Washington was the greatest of men, and
he figured largely in our elders' conversation. To
him we owed our freedom from the "tyrant. " We
did not love the English people very well, but the
French and Lafayette were clothed with romance.
I have been in houses where the grandfather was
still living, who had fought in the war, and who
pointed with pride to old muskets and powder-
horns which had seen service against the English
soldiers ; but which then hung harmless against the
wall. And was there ever an old, moss-grown
well, deep and dark, in country farm-yards, at
which Washington has not drunk?
My mother had an old table made of solid cherry,
which belonged to Revolutionary times. It was
given to her grandmother at that lady's marriage,
and was the table at which my mother and her
grandmother ate their meals when my mother
lived with her. The legend about this table,
related by mother, as told by her grandmother,
was, that once some valuable town papers (the
town was Coventry, Ct.) were brought to Mrs.

158 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Hale with the request that she should hide them
from the redcoats. She placed them in the drawer
of the table, spread the cloth, and arranged the
dishes for the meal in progress of preparation.
WhUe she and her husband were eating, the
soldiers came and demanded permission to search
the house. "Gentlemen," said the courtly lady,
"search the house if you must, but you will par
don us if we do not accompany you, but continue
eating our supper." The papers were kept safe
until the war was over. It is more than probable
that Nathan Hale, the glorious spy, has sat at this
table. The staunch old piece of furniture is now
among my most cherished possessions.
I was so fond of teaching that, when very young,
I kept an imaginary school by entering a Ust of
made-up names in a book, and when I had time,
by "playing school. " I would call the classes out,
going through with the lessons and carefuUy mark
ing perfect or imperfect. I kept the attendance
daUy for a year or so, asking Annie why Fannie
was absent, or why Lucinda was tardy. Some
times I would forget to keep school until after I had
gone to bed. Then I would softly arise, so as not
to wake Mattie, mark the attendance of my
scholars, and announce a holiday as reward for
good behavior.

REVOLUTIONARY TIMES 159
When I was fourteen years old, father, who was
the school committee, gave me a real Uttle school
to teach of about twenty small children, an over
flow from the large intermediate department.
The only thing I distinctly recall about this
was an experience with a Uttle German boy. He
refused to do something that I required (I have
forgotten what), and I kept him after school,
telling him that neither he nor I would go home
until he had complied with my wishes. He sat
stolidly in his little chair. Six o'clock came and
father entered to see what was the matter. When
I stated the case, he offered to bring me supper.
I refused. The nine o'clock bell struck (the
mUls rang their bells nine times at that hour) , and
the boy and I had sat long in darkness and silence.
Then my little rebel said, "Well, if I must, I
must." The conflict was over and we both went
home. A good, hot supper was awaiting me,
with mother's sympathy, while father said I could
not have done otherwise. The school existed
for one term only. I received forty dollars as my
reward, my first proud earnings.

xxxv
EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL
I HAVE come across a "joumal," kept in the
years 1853 and 1854, in an old cast-off account-
book of my father's. He had used the first
pages in 1831, a date which appears on the cover.
As my writing was done with lead pencil, it is much
faded, and at times almost unreadable. Some
extracts from this endeavor to put my feeUngs on
paper wiU show my efforts to be religious. Every
good young man or woman about whom one read,
kept a journal or diary, and made of it a most
intimate friend. When these good young people
died their lives and journals were pubUshed, and
thus a type was formed of what a truly pious
person must be. I remember that it was quite a
task to keep this daily record when my Ufe was
uneventful, but I stuck to it and tried to be sincere.
I give some of the extracts exactly as they were
written, without apologizing for their apparent
priggishness and insincerity. They are a true
160

EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL i6i
picture of the girl of those times. I was eleven
years old when these reviews of sermons and my
own comments were written, with occasional
records of my doings.
To-day school commenced. I went. I cannot
describe it. I study Grammer, Geography and Arith
metic. Our minister came to dinner.
Wednesday. Went to school. The second day is
not much to do and I wrote a letter. Mr Rice, (the
minister), says he shall give his lecture on the Isle
of Wight next week. Went to meeting. Mr Rice
made some interesting remarks about doing good.
He urged us very much to do good.
Saturday. November Sth. School did not keep
at all, and I found plenty of work to do at home.
Went to singing school in the evening with Annie, and
as it rained very hard we had a great time getting
home. In the fall of this year it was decided that mother
should go to a doctor living in Fair Haven, in search
of rest and health. From her girlhood mother had
suffered much from nervous headaches. These
headaches were growing worse. How the dear
soul kept about her daily duties with her forehead
creased with pain, I do not know. She never
complained and could always smile. When she
was fairly disabled she would go to her darkened

i62 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
room and remain in bed for hours, or even a whole
day. At those times we children had to be quiet,
for "mother had a headache." I think her stay
for three months with the physician benefited
her and that the pain was not so severe after her
return. But the trouble was never whoUy relieved
untu her death in 1885. When mother left us I
wrote in my journal :
Nov. 1 2th. To-day mother went and we are left
alone, father went to Hartford with her. I can
hardly be reconciled to the parting, and when we were
singing at worship "Father whatere of earthly bliss"
etc. I could not enter into the spirit of that beautiful
hymn, however if God will restore her to health it will
pay for all. Mr Rice gave a lecture this evening on
the Isle of Wight. It was very interesting describing
the natural beauties of it which must be beautiful
and giving a short history of "Little Jane the Dairy
man's Daughter," tracts by L. Richmond.
Nov. 13th. Second day without mother. I am
housekeeper. I hope we shall get along and trust we
shall. Father thought I had better not go to meeting
and so I lost my great day for that it is and every week
I need something to sustain me like this.
Nov. 15th. Mr Allen from Hartford had the sing
ing school in the schoolhouse this afternoon. After
that Mr Turner gave us some problems on the board
and then we had a race home. Another singing school
this evening.

EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL 163
Dec. 1st. It looks really like winter. The walking
is not very good, but rather hard work getting to
school. Mother is getting along very well. Went to
hear Dr. Bethune lecture on Epidemics. He spoke
very well but rather lengthy, i yi. hours long.
Dec. 3rd. To-day the weather was so bad that we
took our dinners and nearly all the school staid at noon.
We read compositions to-day. mine was on the fading
leaf, all of them were very good. One was "Life is
short and my composition is short too. "
Jan. 6th. The Lord's Day. Yes it is indeed the
Lord's Day, and it is a source of rejoicing to me that it
is so, that it is not our own but the Lord's and I should
not do anything inconsistent with that, but should
strive to spend the whole time in the delightful exer
cises of God's worship. How nice it seems to me
this morning to go to church and see our minister
in the pulpit. He preached upon Isaiah 53:11. He
shall see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied.
Mr Rice said that the suffering of Christ was his
travail and he would think it all worth while when
he sees the results. I need not say that the sermon
was good for my soul, for my dear journal you cer
tainly know that what Mr Rice says is that. The
sacrament of the Lord's Supper was held in our church
this afternoon, and I have striven to prepare myself for
it. God grant that I did not eat and drink unworthily
thus bringing judgment upon myself, and that it
was in a right frame of spirit that I went to the table
of my Lord. My soul is refreshed and strengthened
and I feel enabled once more to press on to the duties
of the week. The communion season is a blessed

1 64 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
one to all believers and it does help us on in the
christian warfare much more than others would think.
It comes so seldom that we prize it the more.
This from a child of eleven years ! I remember
that I was given a set of questions to ask myseh, in
order to prove my worthiness to go to the Com
munion table. I have not a copy of these ques
tions, but I must have answered them in a manner
satisfactory to myself, else I would not have
dared to go.
A month later I find this written in my journal.
Can I not learn from a few golden clouds that appear
in the west, that as the dark clouds pass away and leave
the beautiful clouds, so all my trials and afflictions
bring out the virtues of religion; and may the dark
clouds pass away and leave everything bright. I will
learn to think more of Christ and less of the world.
he is my strength and on him would I rest for he is
my anchor as well in the great storm as in the great
calm. And may God give me the will and I shall
find the way to glorify him. May this be my motto
that whether I eat or drink, or whatever I do, it may be
all to the glory of God. And as Mr Rice says, may
the glorious rest be mine which he hath promised to
his followers. There is a thing that troubles me very
much, that is sin, and well it might, for I am con
stantly pained by seeing myself fall so far short of the
command Be ye perfect even as your father in heaven
is perfect. But I am comforted by the thought that
if I faithfully resist the devil here, in my glorious

EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL 165
rest this most melancholy evil will trouble me no more.
There the strife will cease and all will be peace, peace,
a heavenly peace. Oh how delightful. I will strive
to attain this glorious end.
The world, like the flesh and the devil, stood
vaguely for evil, for that which was hostile to
"growth in grace. " It was aU to be resisted and
put away. ,
Here are other choice extracts :
I do not feel very well and I suppose I write as I
feel. Went out to the barn and laid down on the hay
and ate oats like a horse, and it felt far better than
lying on the sofa.
I have decided this week to see as many of the schol
ars in our class and inquire why they do not attend
better. There were only two present yesterday and
I do not understand it !
Witnessed a most glorious sunset this evening.
The sun was almost a ball of fire and the horizon was
very dark so that as it dropped slowly behind the
hills it presented a very singular appearance. Above
there were red clouds and still farther up long distant
golden clouds some sirrus, some nimbus, etc. still
further up were wreathy white clouds, and in the east,
north and as far as could be seen was one dark cloud
ready to drop rain.
Mr Rice's sermon this morning was on Brotherly
Love. First he said what is brotherly love, it is not
philanthropy for that is really pity and extends
to all men however vile they may be, while brotherly
love extends only to christians, to those only who are

1 66 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
followers of our God. And whether black or white,
congregationalists or Arminians, if they be true
christians it is our duty to love them because they are
christians and in a measure like Christ. What is the
measure of brotherly love was his next remark, and the
answer is given in the text as I have loved you. Who
can measure the love that left the joys of heaven and
came upon this earth, suffered immeasurable things
and died a cruel death for us and is continually
watching over us with tender solicitude. And we
are required to love our brethren like that it is a love
higher than heaven, deeper than hell, and as lasting as
eternity. This love will lead us to perform many
acts of kindness such as visiting them when in sickness
or in prison and to be faithful in reproving them when
necessary. Repentance is lasting and endures to eternal life.
Some of the benefits of a broken and crushed heart
are, first the willingness to hear the doctrines of the
cross preached about. That soul is very humble and
takes sides with God against himself.
Another good comes from a contrite and crushed
heart it is the great peace and happiness which attends
it, he has God for his friend and what has he to fear
he has no fear of the world to come and consequently
none of death while the opposite feelings make us
unhappy and afraid of God's wrath.
AU my chUdhood through, I was terribly afraid
of death. By such words as the above in my
journal, I tried to deceive myseh into believing
I had no such fear. I meant to be so good that

EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL 167
God would be forced to give me a long life, or an
easy death should that come.
Mr Rice addressed the children of the Sunday
School and told them of the New England primer
and said that in the days of our grandfathers and
grandmothers there were only thirteen books adapted
at all for children published and the New England
Primer was the only religious book. That now there
were four thousand published all for youth. He said
that as we were so much more privileged than they
surely we should make good use of our privileges, for
unto whom much is given much shall be required
and if we neglect to get all the good we can we shall
be beaten with many stripes.
Here is a picture of the God common in the
preaching of those days which might well make
old and young alike to tremble. Where was the
Father of Love as revealed by Christ?
' The doom to which the sinner goes is most dreadful.
Not only God's wrath but the fierceness of his wrath
shall be poured upon him. They will be shut up in
black despair through all eternity. The fierceness of
God's wrath is dreadful beyond comprehension. That
roaring lion which goes about the world seeking whom
he may devour stands ready to seize him as soon as
God gives permission. And he declares that when
their calamities come up to him he will laugh at them.
When we think of the length of their punishment it is
still more dreadful when ages of years have passed
away they will still say in despair this is only an atom

1 68 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
of what is to come there is still the same round to go
through of awful remorse. Oh what a warning to the
impenitent and if they slight it they will be subject to
a fury of a God which is inconceivably dreadful. I
wish that all who are yet far from God could have
heard that sermon they could not help at least think
ing. Mr Rice was very impressive in his delivery.
May that sermon do much good and cause many to
stop and tremble before going further. Mr Rice
said that God is the adversary of the impenitent
and if he does not reconcile with him quickly the time
may be very short and he will be summoned to trial.
This day has been a feast of fat things to my soul.

XXXVI
BIBLICAL INSTRUCTION
My apology for bringing to Ught these foolish
writings in a chUdish diary is that they open up a
picture of the past, when God's wrath and eternal
punishment were the favorite and lurid themes
of the pulpit. To a daughter of the Puritans
who heard these words solemnly endorsed at home,
(my father required us on Sunday afternoons or
evenings to repeat as much as we could remember
of the sermons we had heard during the day, with
comments of his own), these awful characteriza
tions of the Divine Father could make ' ' a feast of
fat things for her soul. " Of course I did not know
what I was writing. I know that I felt outside
the circle of those wicked unbelievers (usually
spoken of as "the impenitent"), but doubtless
there was a delicious thrill in my heart over the
possible danger to a good child. For, after all,
nothing in the future was absolutely sure.
I am aware of the danger of clothing my early
169

170 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
reminiscences with subtle motives and psychologi
cal intentions which did not exist at the time. I do
not claim that they did exist, only that I thought
they did. The proof is in the joumal. The
quotations I have made from the old account-book
are literal copies and less unbeUevable than some
others which I might have chosen. I wrote with
utter seriousness and sincerity what I thought was
pious and appropriate. In my own immature
fashion I was trying to solve the age-long problems
of sin, forgiveness, the relations of God to man,
and how best to please Him. In other respects
I was an ordinary chUd, faulty enough, but, in
the main, amiable and obedient to authority.
Our minister, Mr. Rice, (I am giving his true
name), was a sincere and able pastor of our
church for about five years. His preaching was
prompted by a sense of duty. He loved chUdren
and was helpful to them. He was a constant
visitor in the schools and offered prizes for improve
ment in reading and composition. How well I
recall him! He was tall, with stooping shoulders,
angular and somewhat awkward in his movements,
near-sighted so that he often failed to recognize
his friends even when wearing strong glasses. His
nose was large, and the spectacles rested in a sort
of natural niche between his eyes. His forehead

BIBLICAL INSTRUCTION 171
was high, his hair rather thin and worn somewhat
long. His complexion was as clear as a girl's.
When his broad mouth smiled his expression was
apostolic. He often came to our house, stayed to
tea (part of his pastoral duty in those days),
and led the faimily devotions before going home.
There was a Mrs. Rice, but she seldom went out
and I cannot recall her. One tall daughter, a
little younger than myself, used to visit me and we
walked together. She was too serious to romp,
being a minister's daughter. We would make
daisy chains or links of pine needles, or we would
hunt for birds' nests. Mary Rice knew more about
birds than I did.
One spring I learned and recited to Mr. Rice, in
a class of girls, the Gospel of Luke. Those of us
who finished the task received a Bible. I also
learned and recited several chapters of St. John's
Gospel. Many of these, as the fifteenth of Luke
and the fourteenth of John I can still repeat. I
was quick at memorizing and nearly as quick in
forgetting. Consequently my school lessons never
troubled me, but examinations were my dread.
One entry in my journal says I had too little to do
in school, and therefore asked to join the class in
physiology. One of the earliest tasks which my father set for

172 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
us was to learn the names of the books of the Bible
in their order. He said it was disgraceful not to be
able to turn at once to Hosea, for example, or Amos
or First Corinthians. It was a Sunday game to
see which of us, including mother, could first
find a given chapter and verse which father would
name. At the morning family worship (never
omitted for any reason whatever) , we read the Bible
consecutively, from beginning to end, every member
of the circle reading two verses. We never skipped
a verse, not even the jaw-breaking lists of names,
the laws of Leviticus or the wretched stories found
in parts of the ' 'Word of God. ' ' I learned, also, the
names of the judges, pointing to the fingers of each
hand and the features of my face. Thus, Othniel,
Ehud, Deborah, Shamgar, Gideon, belonged to the
fingers of the left hand. Abimelech, Tola, Jair,
Jephthah, Ibzan, were counted off on the fingers
of the right hand. Elon, Abdon, belonged to mouth
and nose, Samson to hair, Eli and Samuel to eye
and ear. To this day I could scarcely repeat
without mistake the names of the judges unasso
ciated with fingers and features. With each one of
the judges, we also learnt some interesting fact, as
that Jair had thirty sons who rode on thirty ass's
colts, and had thirty cities. Jair and thirty seemed
synonymous. We could repeat the names of the

BIBLICAL INSTRUCTION 173
kings of Judah and Israel, and tell which were good
and which evil. We could give the generations,
beginning with Adam, Seth, Enos, Canaan, etc.,
to Abraham and thence to David. It was the age
of the Old Testament, and the stories therein
became as famiUar as the history of Rome is to
children to-day. My father was especially fond of
Elijah and Elisha. He said they ranked with the
grandest of the world's heroes. He did not
believe the tale of the two bears which kiUed the
children who mocked Elisha. He said no good
man would revenge himself on children. There
might have been bears in the country at that
time, and they might have eaten some children,
but not at the prophet's bidding.
He admitted that not all the Bible stories were trust
worthy history. Higher criticism was unknown, but
father was eminently sensible and thought a natural
explanation might be found for the fall of the walls
of Jericho, and for some, at least, of the plagues of
Egypt. It was his opinion that no unnecessary
miracle was ever worked when the same result
could have been obtained by natural means.
If children are not made familiar with the
ancient Jewish writings when young, they will,
probably, never know a literature, which, whether
divinely inspired or not, is profoundly interesting

174 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and important. The systematic teaching must
be given by father or mother. Sunday-schools
come short of regular instruction, from the nature
of the case, as they can consider only a few verses
of Scripture once a week. Young children never
faU to be interested in Old Testament stories, when
the application is made subordinate to the his
tory. For example, thorough work on Genesis
would take a year, but after such study the pupils
could tell the incidents in their own words, would
know the customs of the household, the nomadic
life of the tent, the importance of weUs in settling
countries, the geography of Palestine and Egypt,
the legends of the founding of important cities
and nations, methods of warfare, and the history
including the call of Abraham, his noble character
as "the friend of God," and the origin and first
growth of the Hebrew people.
While I considered, when a child, my father's
Sunday afternoons in the light of bores, especially
when he added to the Bible lesson a chapter
of Baxter's The Saint's Everlasting Rest, yet I
thankfully remember that our memories were
stored with Biblical literature at a time when it
was interesting and even amusing. These lessons
of father's took the place of the second church
service after that was abolished.

XXXVII
MORE OF THE JOURNAL
Sept. 30th, 1854. There is a northeast storm
raging and I am afraid it will prove disastrous on
water. Mr Lathrop fell from a wagon and bruised
his arm dreadfully besides breaking it. They had
hoped he would not lose his arm, but now it has all
mortified and to-day it was amputated.
Oct 2nd. This morning there was quite a hard
frost. Mattie and I went to call on Mrs Martin.
We feasted on grapes and had a good farmer's dinner
which was very nice. I found a large thorn, nearly a
foot long. Mother and I went to prayermeeting. It
was very good although only a few were present.
Once a week I go where my faith is strengthened. It
lasts from one Thursday to another and then I go and
get helped and succored.
Oct. 3. Poor Mr Lathrop. His friends are afraid
he cannot live. He is insane and in a bad condition.
,Oct. 6. Mr Lathrop died yesterday morning 2j^.
He was buried this morning at ten oclock. Father
went. 175

176 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Oct. 9th. Miss Rogers came to see us and we
walked to the Pine grove. She was as much pleased
as I was and we had a pleasant time. We found
a great many kinds of brake and other green leaves.
I am crocheing a collar and work mostly on it now.
Mr Simms baby is dead. It is well for he would
always have been a suffering infant had he lived.
Finished Dred, Mrs Stowe's book. I like it very
well but not as well as her other one.
Oct 22. The jack 0 lanterns are in their prime now.
We have a good number which we hang on the trees
and astonish the natives or passers by.
At the meeting to-night Mr Rice chose for a subject
the Holy Spirit and explained it to me very plainly.
Dr. Risley spoke of the comfort of the Spirit and
father of the scriptures being written by him.
To-day I have a cold and had to stay in the house.
While mother is away I am housekeeper. Mr Rice
remarked to me that I had taken the yoke upon me
early. I said it was no yoke, and certainly it is a very
pleasant one.
I am very happy to-day for God has answered
my prayers and forgiven my sins and said go in
peace. I believed he would answer my prayer and
he has not disappointed me. He never appeared so
lovely, so holy, so full of mercy as now. Oh the
blessed thought that Christ is my shepard and I one
of his lambs. Though I have wandered far from the
fold he has graciously received me back again to his
love and favor. I have consecrated myself anew to

MORE OF THE JOURNAL 177
God. Henceforth all my life, all my talents are to be
devoted to the cause of Christ. May I be the humble
but happy instrument of winning some soul to Christ.
this is to be my aim. Mr Rice gave me two tracts,
one entitled " Marks of true Repentance. " the other
"To those commencing a Christian Life." I have
read them with a great deal of pleasure.
Mr Rice said we must regulate our conduct as
becometh the gospel of Christ and some of the things
we should practice are Consistency Steadfastness and
Self Denial. I must remember all this and try to do
all things to the glory of God.
This afternoon it was a very powerful sermon upon
Where sin abounded grace did much more abound.
The subject was John Bunyan and he showed forth
very strikingly the fact of sin abounding but grace
superabounded. He has visited his grave and learned
considerable about him in his travels. He encouraged
all men to flee to Christ for there was probably few
men equalling in wickedness John Bunyan.
The sermon this morning was upon run speak to
that young man. Zechariah 2. 4. he urged the impor
tance of speaking to the impenitent youth, especially
young men. He said that all the young and old rich
and poor had an influence over some heart.
In the afternoon father went with Mrs Rose while
Mattie and I walked to the graveyard. They went to
select a suitable spot for our lot and we children hunted
for flowers, found quite a pretty bouquet and when
father went home we took a walk in the cows pasture
found a new path which we explored till we came into
open grounds. At the evening meeting Mr Rice gave
some of the brethren portions of the world to report
about at the monthly concert.

178 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
The spot selected for "our lot" was in the
most beautiful part of the grove bordering the
cemetery, at the edge of a hill which descended
steeply to the mill-pond. The hill was thickly
covered with trees. Birds sang in this quiet
spot, squirrels ran about, flowers that love the stiU
woods grew and blossomed, little ants and bees
made homes along the banks. Here both my
parents are buried, and four Uttle mounds mark
the graves of four of mother's babies.
This was a beautiful evening and I enjoyed it by
staying out of doors and looking at the stars.
Father was very unwell he ate too many cherries
probably and was tired. Did not go out of the house
at all. I spent the day sewing reading picking peas
raspberries etc. I have read considerable of Hiawatha
and like it very much.
Elizabeth Holmes called on me this morning. She
is the one I got to go to the Sunday School. She hurt
herself in the mill and could not work. We sung
songs together though not very pretty for our voices
do not cord together very well. She is a queer girl
and I do not know her yet well enough to express
an opinion. In the evening I played backgammon
and watered the flowers.
Who should come in to see us but my aunt Charlotte.
After breakfast we walked down to the post office.
Coming back we stopped at the paint shop and
got some paint mixed. She is making some beautiful

MORE OP THE JOURNAL 179
vases, they are glass with some pictures pasted on them
and then painted blue all over. They are most
beautiful. About ten o'clock I found some birdsnests and
climbed up in the tree to see them, and saw two eggs
in each, one of the nests belonged to a robin and one
to a blue jay.
When I came home to-day Annie Brady was here.
We sewed a little and studied our lessons for tomorrow.
she took tea with us. After that we raked up pines
and made a bond fire and made two heaps which we
shall light Monday.
This moming we had a most terrible exhibition of
the power of God. We have had a thunderstorm the
most awfully grand I ever witnessed it seems to me.
Though I am not afraid of the lightning still I felt a
little timid when I saw the whole heavens enveloped
in a sheet of lightning and after that a deafening roar,
and all the time the rain came down in torrents so as
very much to injure the ground everywhere. The
water was in the valley so deep we could hardly get
about. The wall at fathers mill (I do not know
for what it is used) fell away and is a real heap of
ruins now.
These extracts from my joumal could be extended
indefinitely. In reading the faded writing what
strikes me most is that nearly every one men
tioned has passed over. It is an inventory of the
dead. Father, mother, minister, teachers, Sun
day-school mates, most of my school- and play
mates, aU are gone, many long since. As we grow

i8o A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
older, many and pass to other homes, the friends
of chUdhood are lost sight of. Upon my father's
death in 1 893, the dear home was sold and strangers
live there. I have felt no desire to return and look
upon the changes. So many ghostly figures would
wander through the rooms ! Echoes of my mother's
voice would sound from her bedroom. I could see
my father sitting at his desk. The old orchard
of forty or fifty trees, every one of which was
planted and affectionately watched by my father,
in which birds built their nests and bees swarmed,
must be too old for bearing, and perhaps has been
cut down. I knew as well as father did which
tree bore astrachans, which golden sweets, which
greenings, pippins, russets, and "spitzes." Under
some of them I had my broken bits of crockery
and glass with which I played "keep house."
On the low branches I used to sit and read.
There were plum and pear trees, also fine grape
vines trained along the south wall of the big ter
race. But it was of the apple orchard that my
father was the proudest, and it stored our cellar
fuU of barrels of splendid fruit through the winter,
until the spring brought again the soft pink buds
and fragrant blossoms of the trees. Is there any
sight more beautiful than an apple orchard in
full bloom near the last of May? Our "Evening

MORE OF THE JOURNAL i8i
Side" was at that time glorified with its great
bouquets of fragrant fiowers.
A trolley line runs now at the foot of our hill, and
the big chestnut trees which grew on the steep
bank are gone. The miUs are multiplied and are
filled with alien workers. The splendid waterfall
which used to drive the big wheels of my father's
mills is now only a small stream trickling over the
rocks where once you could not stand without
being drenched with spray. The fearsome, dark
grove which we named Jimmy Bell's Park, where I
often picked the mayfiower (trailing arbutus), is
now seamed with crossing and recrossing paths
made by the ' ' hands ' ' going home from and return
ing to their work. In my young days working in
the mUls did not declass anybody. Some of my
friends worked for a longer or shorter time in the
silk or thread, paper or envelope factory to earn a
winter coat and hat. When they returned to
school they were welcomed on equal terms with the
rest of us. I once begged father to let me earn a
little money for myself in that way, but he was
firm in refusing, saying he thought he could take
care of me a little longer. Nobody in our town
was very poor or very rich. We were, perhaps, as
well off as most of our neighbors, but until I was
thirteen or fourteen years old, two dresses a year

i82 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
were my allowance, made with tucks for increased
length in future seasons. Mother often wore a
calico dress to church, for, she said, church was
no place in which to display outward adornment,
and everything which distracted from serious
things, one's or one's neighbors' attentions, was
wrong.

XXXVIII
MY YOUNGEST SISTER
When I was ten or eleven years old, one of my
schoolmates, Mary Post, died, of consumption. I
was very fond of her, and often visited her through
her prolonged illness. It was dreadful to see
her waste away, but she was always cheerful, and
untU the very last would smile her greeting and
say it was aU right and she was wUling to go. As
we had often ridden horseback together, as a
parting present she gave me her riding whip. I
have kept it to this day. This girl's death sad
dened the whole school, and for weeks we talked
in low tones and spoke of the mystery of death
and of what the hereafter might be.
Soon after this, mother had her eighth and last
baby which she put into my arms as God's great
gift to herself and me. I was eleven years old. I
joyfully took this little, new sister to my love, and
became almost a second mother to her. I was
allowed to bathe and dress her, mother sitting by,
183

1 84 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
as soon as the nurse had left us. I often slept with
her and was never unwilling to warm her bottle of
milk in the night. I took her out in her carriage,
and felt as much pride in her growth and develop
ment as if she had been my own child. The love
of this sister became one of the strongest passions
of my early years. Twice her life was in great
danger as she sat in my lap, but by holding her
close in my arms, she escaped injury. Once, it was
in winter, when snow was on the ground, — ^Jane
might have been a little over one year old, — several
of us children, neighbors' as well as our own four,
fiUed our old sleigh which a big boy, friend and
neighbor, guided down the hill, he himself sitting
on a sled between the shafts which he held as he
steered. Twice the dangerous descent was safely
made. With shouts of laughter all hands drew the
sleigh to the top of the hill ready for another slide.
By this time more children had been attracted,
and they crowded in, some standing on the run
ners, clinging to the ends of the seats. Mother
and a friend watched from the veranda, appre
hensive, yet unwilling to put an end to the fun.
Half-way down the hill a pine branch fell from an
overhanging tree, across the roadway. I saw it
and felt that it meant, perhaps death, to some
of us. The sled struck the branch, swerved to

MY YOUNGEST SISTER 185
one side, threw our steerer off his sled, and with
sickening speed we shot down the icy hill. Instead
of making the roadturn, we pitched over an em
bankment at the foot of the hill, an almost per
pendicular fall of ten feet or more. We were brought
up with a fearful shock against a tree. The de
moralization of the occupants of the sleigh was com
plete. They were huddled together, some thrown
over the dashboard which was broken, all more or
less bruised. Without thought, I gathered my sister
into my arms and took the crash in full with my
own body. Jane was not hurt, and she laughed
thinking it was in the game. Of course I was
badly bruised, but no bones were broken, and the
marvel was that no one was killed, not even the
boy under the sleigh. He was the first one to
speak, and with a weak voice asked if all were safe.
I, being the eldest, answered "Yes, how is it with
you ? ' ' We concluded that Providence had watched
over us and almost miraculously preserved us.
Another time father was driving, my baby
sister and I sitting beside him. Jane was in my
lap, when the horse became frightened, ran, and
threw the buggy down a bank, overturning it and
pinning us underneath. The horse disengaged
itself from the harness and flew down the road.
Neighbors quickly came to the spot and helped to

1 86 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
right the buggy and bring it back to the road.
The horse also was overtaken, and my father,
with pale face, hitched him again to the buggy,
tying up the broken harness. He drove on say
ing it would never do to let the beast think he
had conquered, or he could never again be driven
with safety. But I walked home with Jane. She
was not in the least hurt, while I was bruised and
shaken. For I had clasped her close within my
arms, anxious only for her safety.
On neither of these occasions was there time for
deUberation on my part. It was pure loving in
stinct that made me so try to protect the baby
whom God had given me that not a scratch was
found upon her. This was not, in any especial
sense, to my credit. I hope, but do not know, if
I had had time to consider, whether I should have
acted in the same manner.

My Sister Jane, Aged Five

XXXIX
ATTEMPT TO FRIGHTEN ME
During the summer of my thirteenth year, I was
again left as housekeeper with my little brother
to care for. Mother and father went away for a
visit in 'Bangor, Maine, where father's parents
lived, taking Mattie and Jane.
We had had, during the winter, a young man to
work around the house and barn. He was named
Matthew. He had reddish hair, and I delighted to
put him into a rage by calUng him "carrot-head"
and similar foolish names. Once I doubled his
under sheet in the middle, turning over the bottom
to look like the top sheet. Naturally, when he
tried to get into bed there was difficulty.
Another time I scattered hickory nuts under his
under sheet. For these and similar insults we
were sworn foes. When one morning, he caught
up a stick of wood from the kitchen wood-box
and flung it at my head, missing me by an inch,
father dismissed him, although both he and mother
187

1 88 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
told me that I was greatly to blame. I mention
this in the light of what occurred during my par
ents' absence, for although I had no proof, I always
suspected Matthew to be the actor in a curious
attempt to frighten me.
I was sitting alone, in our living-room, one
evening, after dark, when I heard a noise at
the blinds of the bay window which opened to
the floor. Looking towards the window I was
startled to see a face peering in. The slats of
the blinds were being slowly turned up and down
by a visible hand.
After the first feeling of fright I arose from my
chair, and going leisurely to the window, said,
"You coward," closed and locked the window
and drew down the shade. In like manner I
fastened and darkened all the windows in the
room and locked the hall door. After that stones
were rolled along the veranda and low whistles
were heard. The maid came in, with a pale face,
to sit with me. I pretended absolute unconcern.
This sort of persecution was kept up for several
nights, until I went to the store at the foot of the
hill, and persuaded a young man clerk who was
employed there to come to me early in the even
ings, and sleep in the house. The noises then
ceased. I wonder if I should be as brave to-day.

ATTEMPT TO FRIGHTEN ME 189
under like circumstances. In those days I scarcely
knew the meaning of fear and never lost my
self-control. It was during this absence of my mother's that,
with the help in cutting and fitting, of a friend in
the village, I made two dresses, and two complete
sets of underwear for myself. Machine sewing
was unknown in those days, and my work was all
done by hand. I was quite proud of my achieve
ment and earned warm praise from mother when
she retumed.

THE SCHOOLGIRL: ONE YEAR IN BANGOR, MAINE;
AFTERWARDS IN NORTON, MASSACHUSETTS

191

Carol A. Stickney, Aged Sixteen

XL
THE YEAR IN BANGOR, WITH MY UNCLE
In my sixteenth year my parents thought it
best to send me away to school. I had grown so
fast I was tall and slender, with stooping should
ers. A change of climate was recommended by
the doctor. Two of my father's brothers and his
parents lived in Bangor, Maine. Thither I was
sent. Why so severe a climate should have been
chosen for a delicate person is not to be explained,
unless it was that I could live with and receive the
care of an uncle and aunt, second only to that of
my own parents. I was sent to attend the Girls'
High School. I was received most cordially by my
uncle Thomas Stickney, my father's next younger
brother, and during the year in which I was a mem
ber of his family I was treated like a daughter.
This, too, when I must have been wilful and trying
at times. There was a small cousin, five years old,
whom I often put to bed and took care of when
my aunt was away. Charles was generally docile
13 193

194 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and easily managed, especiaUy when I told him a
story. JuUa Congden 's tales still remained in my
memory and could be drawn upon whenever occa
sion demanded. Once when I was putting my
small cousin to bed, he said for his prayer, " Our
Father who art in Heaven. Amen." Shocked, I
commanded him to say the whole prayer correctly.
I could not induce him. He answered me, "I'm
sleepy and God knows the rest anyway." At the
end of the year I went home and was not allowed
to return. This was a grief to me, for I had made
friends among the girls, and was very fond of my
teachers. I found out later, that an attachment on
my part, was feared by my uncle, for the principal,
a man twice my age. I certainly did Uke him
very much, but if he cared for me more than any
of my classmates, he never showed partiality or
relaxed, in the least, his severe discipline, and the
exactions of class work. But near the end of the
winter, at some evening gathering, perhaps a
church sociable, we ate "phUopena" together, as
was the custom of the day. "I got it on him,"
and he gave me a ring with a tiny diamond in it.
On the under side, "Mizpah" was marked. This
was taken to be full of meaning. (The small dia
mond, with several others and a central ruby,
later, made a stick-pin for my daughter.) There-

Thomas Gage Stickney
My Uncle with whom I lived a year in Bangor, Me.

YEAR IN BANGOR, WITH MY UNCLE 195
fore the association was broken up. When I went
home I expected to come back, and Mr. Shepard
asked me to write to him. I did and received a
friendly answer. This I showed to my father, and
he put an immediate stop to the correspondence,
making other arrangements for my education.
It seems to me strange that my memory is not
so keen concerning the events of this year in
Bangor, as with regard to the earlier years of my
chUdhood. I remember feeling pleasure in my
school with its competent teachers, its dear girls,
its orderly grading and perfect discipline. I recall
that the examinations in school were approached
with nervous dread, but were successfully carried
through. I enjoyed the chemistry class especially,
notwithstanding the fact that I once spilled sul
phuric acid (I think it was) on my dress and burned
several holes in the front breadth. The life in my
uncle's family was enjoyable, with rather more
freedom of action than I had had at home. I
taught in the infant class in the Sunday school,
attended prayermeetings with my uncle, and en
tered into all the church activities, such as socia
bles and fairs which interested my aunt. In winter
there were huge snowstorms when the snow was
taken from the sidewalks and heaped in the streets
as high as my head, and the cold was often intense.

196 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
I had two serious Ulnesses through which my aunt
cared for me like a dear mother, and once I had
a sore finger, a " run around," which the doctor
made light of, but from which I suffered much
pain for two or three weeks. In school I read
nearly three books of VirgU, had my first introduc
tion to the French language, worked on higher
arithmetic, algebra, and chemistry, besides study
ing EngUsh history and composition, during that
one year.
I was often with my grandparents, sometimes
taking my midday meal there, as their home was
much nearer the school than that of my uncle
Thomas. I was very fond of my grandmother
who always reminded me, in her face and charac
ter) of my beloved father.
My grandfather was a large man of whom I stood
in awe. He smoked a pipe and snored during his
after-dinner nap, at which grandmother and I
were mightUy amused. He was exceedingly kind
to me, not for my own sake, I used to think, but
because I was "John's child." He was a singer,
possessing a heavy bass voice. I often went to his
church. Baptist in denomination, whose preacher
was Mr. Caldwell, for the express purpose of stand
ing beside him during the singing of the hymns
and mingling my small voice with his strong bass.

YEAR IN BANGOR, WITH MY UNCLE 197
I have discovered a journal kept almost daily
during the first part of my stay in Bangor, from
which I shall give some extracts. They show
the same religious fervor as the earlier one, from
which I have already quoted. I still aspired
to be a missionary. WhUe I was sincere in this, I
was not such an enthusiast as mother's younger
sister, Lydia Devan, already referred to, who went
as a missionary to China. Mother told me she
used to sit by an open window in winter and walk
upon the sunny side of the street in summer in
order to become acclimated to either Greenland
or India as the Lord should call her. I have an old
Chinese vase, neither pretty nor valuable, but
much prized by me, because mother cared for it as
the only relic of her sister's missionary life. It was
sent to mother from China.

XLI
THE BANGOR HIGH SCHOOL
The journey to Bangor was taken with inter
missions, first by stage to Vernon, thence by train
to Providence, where we changed for Boston.
There my grandparents met us and took charge
of me, my father returning home. From Boston
the trip to Bangor was made in the steamer
Daniel Webster.
Extracts from my journal written in 1859:
May 2nd, 1859. It is high time for me to commence
an account of my daily life, and after reviewing a
little from the time I left home, I will keep a minute
journal. Monday morning, April 17th was very
fine, and my ride with father upon the stage top was
refreshing as well as pleasant. We took cars at Ver
non and proceeded to Providence. Here we were
obliged to wait some hours before we could proceed
further. To pass time we made a call, and were very
kindly received. At six we arrived in B.' and found
Grandfather and Grandmother waiting to receive us.
Then went to Great uncle Paul's and gave them all a
surprise. They seemed glad to see us and tried to
make our stay pleasant. . . . Wednesday Father, grand-
' Boston. 198

THE BANGOR HIGH SCHOOL 199
mother and I went to Brighton. Made a delightful
call on Mr Rice (our former minister). Thursday
Father left for home. What a trial for me. I shed
a few tears but then was cheerful. . . .
Friday evening we went to Portland and there took
the Daniel Webster for Bangor. Slept well on the
trip, being entirely free from sickness. Saturday,
we arrived early and found uncle Thomas waiting. I
was greeted kindly all around, and spent the day
unpacking and arranging my clothes.
Monday morning at eight o'clock, I went to the
of&ce of Lawyer Humphrey and was examined by
him and Mr Stetson for admission to the High School.
I was admitted, but as school did not keep on May
Day,^ I spent the day in sewing, practising and taking
a ride. I drew a book from the library, called Daisy
Chain. Tuesday May 3rd. This morning I went to school
for the first time. Was introduced to Mr Shepard,
the teacher, and am fairly well impressed with him.
Made acquaintance with a number of the girls, and
they tried to make it interesting to me. I have
entered the second year, and now am to study Algebra,
VirgU, French and Nat. Phil.
Wednesday May 4th. A very warm day. Went
to school in the morning, and felt a little bit home
sick at recess, for no one noticed me scarcely. I sup
pose I must make first advances in acquaintances.
Thursday. I attended school as usual and found
things much pleasanter.
' Sunday was first day of May, but the holiday for the school
was Monday.

200 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Saturday. Mr Howard visited the school and
excited great commotion. Compositions were read,
some good. Hot day.
Monday. Attended school in the morning, but not
in the afternoon as I was excused having no recitations.
But best of all I had a nice long letter from home,
containing Jennie Pember's likeness and a number
of other little things which were very acceptable.
May God keep every one of them at home in health
and joy till I am restored to them again.
Thursday. In school all day, and recited Latin
and Philosophy. Louise Hincks (my aunt's sister),
spent the night with me, and in the evening I attended
a concert with her and her beau, E. Godfrey. Retired
at io>^ o'clock.
Friday, 13th May. Nothing particular has occurred
all day. My seat in school-room was occupied all day.
I have decided to add Astronomy to my studies.
Monday i6th. As I awoke this morning this verse
of Scripture flashed upon me, "Awake to righteous
ness etc. " It is a warning that I sleep, and have not
action enough in my soul. This week I "must sin
not. " I must work for others, for some have not the
knowledge of God, and this is spoken to my shame.
Tuesday. I went to school to-day and recited cor
rectly a long and hard dreaded Latin lesson, which
was the chief event of the day.
Another of my aunt's sisters, Josephine Hincks,
was a frequent caller at our house. She was en-

THE BANGOR HIGH SCHOOL 201
gaged to George Shepherd, the son of Dr. Shepherd,
President, (I think) of the Bangor Theological
Seminary and rightly accounted one of the great
preachers of the day. He is often mentioned in
my joumal as having done me good by his earnest
sermons. The references to George can do no
harm after so many years. It was a matter of
much interest to me, the conduct of this engaged
couple.
Friday loth June. In the evening it rained, but we
were all determined to go to a concert given by
Madame Biscacianti. Uncle provided a hack and we
rode. Josie had some misgivings about going as she
was engaged for the evening to George Shepherd.
Considering the rain however, she decided to go, and
offended her beloved mortally, I fear. I don't know
but it will break up the engagement, but hope not.
The concert was perfectly splendid, and that is a tame
word. The lady was elegantly dressed and sang most
charmingly. She is considered superior to Jenny Lind.
Mr. Evans played the piano with a truly master hand
and her husband with one other gentleman filled up
with the violincello and basso singing. The singers
were invariably applauded and made to repeat eight
times. Four bouquets were thrown and Madame
Zimmerman ran to the stage, spread down a carpet,
and covered it with what appeared to be white and
red roses, but on closer examination were only holly
hocks and snowballs. I never expect to attend so good
a concert again, and feel myself greatly favored in
being allowed to hear the sweet little warbler.

202 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Wednesday 22 d. Since the last date I have been
quite sick with the scarlet fever, ^ but to-day I feel
much better. Last Friday I awoke with a sore throat.
Went to school however. Saturday my throat had
much increased in soreness and I found it almost
impossible to swallow. Towards night I began to
grow uneasy and long for a mother's sympathy and
care. I went to school in the a.m. but with the
greatest difficulty, being sick all the time. Sunday my
throat fairly alarmed me and I feared it would ulcerate.
Did not attend church and in the evening I found
myself covered with a little, fine rash. Uncle sent for
the doctor a homeopathic physician and he pronounced
it scarlet fever and laid me under a strict rule of living
for two weeks perhaps. Monday I did not feel well
and kept the recumbent position all day and lived on
dry bread toasted and gruel. Tuesday was my sickest
day and I was weak and good for nothing. Got up
and dressed however about ten and used the lounge.
Found the diet rather hard, but am glad I can get
along so well. To-day a friend sent me in a beautiful
vase of flowers. Dr. has just been in and says I must
not use my eyes, so I suppose I must stop writing.
But be not anxious my dear journal. I am doing well
and should feel very much favored at suffering so
little. Dr. has extended my diet to some strawberries.
Oh won't they taste good ? I must be contented to be
unwell a few days longer, then I hope to be bright and
healthy again.
I have given this quotation from my joumal to
show the different way in which contagious dis-
' As I had had this disease when a child, this illness would
seem to prove that one is not immune after one attack.

THE BANGOR HIGH SCHOOL 203
eases were regarded in that day, as compared with
the precautions taken now. Then there was no
quarantine, no isolation of the patient, no careful
diet (what physician would to-day allow straw
berries to be eaten during the first week of Ul
ness?), no disinfection of the room after recovery.
I was in school after the fever had begun, and
the doctor was not called until the "little, fine
rash" had made its appearance. Germs had not
assumed their position of importance then. My
aunt was my only nurse, and I was placed in the
guest room on account of the comfortable bed
which it contained. I do not remember whether
my young cousin was allowed to come into the
room, but I am sure no one contracted the malady
from me.

XLII
EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL
On the thirtieth of June, during the summer
vacation, my journal says :
To-night I ventured forth to a strawberry festival,
in the chapel of the Bangor Seminary. The hall was
beautifully furnished, and the strawberries and other
provisions were in great abundance. I find it the best
way to get acquainted, for the introductions I sus
tained were more, I should think, than all the rest
during my previous stay. There were some beautiful
bouquets, and I feeling generous, bought one and
gave it to Mr Shepard, (the school principal) whom
I saw and talked with some time He did look finely
to-night and Josie said he was even handsome, and
she almost fell in love with him.
Thursday, July 7th. J. Hincks almost mortally
offended her lover by not being at home just when he
called. We hurried but he reached the house first,
and started back when we met him, and after a great
deal of coaxing, (more than I would have given him in
her situation) brought him back. He was quite angry
about it however, and was hardly polite even to me.
0 dear ! if that is the way girls have to be treated, even
204

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL 205
before the marriage, I believe I shall be tempted to
keep clear of it. Jos knew Shepherd was going, so
we walked up to his house and found him just gone.
Even when we told him that, he said, "humph, that
makes no difference, you promised to be at home, and
if you wanted to walk with me, you should have come
earlier. " Now if that doesn't "beat all, " and verifies
Mr. Hincks saying, that "in former times boys used to
run after the girls, but now if the boys would stay at
home, the other sex would be after them very soon,
coaxing them and entreating them. " Not I, I reckon.
Thursday 14th. To-day I have perfectly reveled in
country life, and enjoyed it right well. Phebe, (one
of my aunt's sisters) and I went strawberrying, in the
country, and picked three quarts of beautiful large
ones. It is some fun to pick them when they are so
thick, and I found them truly so. In the evening we
went in the river bathing. We put on dresses, but
cut a comical figure enough when we came out. After
nine o'clock I started for home, that being the earliest
I could make George Shepherd leave his darling, and
he was to escort me home. I tried all I could, but did
not succeed in reaching home before ten.
My uncle was insistent about my being in the
house before ten. My aunt's home where I
spent this delightful day was in Brewer, two or
three miles from Bangor, across the river. As
there was much visiting between the two homes I
often enjoyed the country life of the Hincks
family.

2o6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Tuesday, July 1 9th. I took dinner and supper with
Grandpa, and went to Norembega in the evening to
hear a fugitive from Kentucky, from the law which
was after him for assisting a runaway slave, which
however, he denies. It was very interesting, & the
subject how much do we owe to earthly laws when
they conflict with heavenly.
Sunday 24th. To-day was very cold and uncom
fortable. As I went into church this morning, I
noticed people standing in groups and talking together
and it seemed as if something was wrong. Still my
curiosity was not relieved until I had seated myself
and my uncle came in asking me if I knew about
George Shepherd. I said no, then he told me he died
the preceding night in his sleep. I was shocked indeed
and it was some moments before I could believe it.
It certainly is one of the most wonderful and mysteri
ous providences I ever knew. I have since heard all
the particulars which I will write here. George went
to Winthrop on Saturday, to preach, and appeared in
good spirits. When there he spent a very pleasant day
visiting, in the aftemoon and to tea, and retumed to
Mr Benson's house where he was stopping, at nine
o'clock. He retired at half past nine, wound his watch,
took out his brush and comb, and prepared every
thing for a speedy dressing in the moming. Not
coming down to breakfast, his room was entered
and George Shepherd was there only in his body.
His soul had flown to higher regions. The shock
is great and every one is in wonder and almost fear
from it.
Being quite intimate with Josephine, I have known
George also very well. He has been in a measure, free

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL 207
with me, and in ways like this has manifested a more
than passing acquaintance. With Jos in his lap, his
arm around her in the most affectionate manner, he
has two or three times asked me to come into the
room and pass judgment on their position, appealing
in a light way to my admiration. Then too, in the
evening of the fourth of July, I was with him all the
evening, and both of us felt as free as brother and
sister; indeed when he died I felt as if I had lost a
brother, and most sincerely do I sympathize with the
sorrowing family, and poor Jos. I immediately wrote
the sad tidings to my home, and I hope I shall take
this solemn lesson to my heart and learn that which
was intended in the warning. Should I, as we trust
George now is, be in that bright world above so that
absent from the body I should be present with the
Lord ? Would my hope stand such a test as that ? I
think I may call Jesus mine, God my father, and
heaven my home, and if so death is welcome when it
pleases it to come. How wretched I should be had I
not this confidence, and oh how dreadful when death
overtakes in that condition. Yet I think I may say
"I know that my Redeemer liveth," and at the last
day he will claim me for his own. Oh my Saviour
desert me not on my deathbed, and let not my hope
prove a delusion, but take me to thine own blessed
arms, and permit me to dwell with thee and see thee
face to face.
I cannot tell at this distance of time how much
of this expression of my religious feeling was sincere
and unaffected. The stilted writing was due
not only to the shock of George Shepherd's death.

208 A^DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
but to the common way of looking at such "provi
dences, " as solemn warnings to the living. I liked
George Shepherd for his own sake as well as for his
intimate relation to my aunt's sister. His sudden
death brought the appalling thought of my own
death very close, and I tried to comfort myself
with the thought of my own preparedness. At any
rate such was the fashion then of journals.
Monday 25th. To-day the body of George Shepherd
was brought home, and said to be as natural as life.
Josie came in feeling her sorrow most acutely. He
must have died without a struggle, as the bedclothes
were as smooth as if they had never been disturbed.
His countenance was very calm, appearing more like
sleep than death.
Saturday 30th. I read some in the life of Mrs
Smith, the missionary to Beirut, and found myself
asking the question so often coming to me of myself
being a missionary. It is dreadful to leave all friends
so, and be an exile from his country, but unless we
forsake houses and lands, parents and sisters, brothers
and friends, we cannot be the disciples of Jesus. I
think if it be God's will I am ready to devote myself
to the life of a missionary, and when I consecrated
myself to his service, I am sure I did not restrict
myself to my own country. No, indeed. That were
no consecration at all, and if thou call me Lord, to
foreign lands I am ready.
Mother writes a beautiful letter to Mrs. Shepherd, as
full of sympathy as her kind heart prompts.

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL 209
Thursday 4th Aug. Josie came up to-day, more
like herself than I have seen her since he died. Auntie,
Josie and I went to Mount Hope and my poor friend
was deeply affected by the sight of George's new-made
grave. The cemetery is quite a nice one and has
many beautiful monuments and some tombs.
Sunday 7th. To-day I have accepted the invitation
to help Kitty Foster take charge of the infant class.
This was the first of my teaching in Sunday-
school. For forty years I remained in that service
teaching at different times all grades of pupils,
young and old. It was always a pleasure to me,
and I never failed in interesting my classes, be
cause I was always interested myself.
Monday, Aug. Sth. The family all went off this
morning to a picnic with several other families. I was
left alone again to myself. But I always enjoy being
alone and in reading, writing, etc. I spent a pleasant
time. Wednesday loth. This morning I arose early, at
five o'clock, & helped auntie spread some bread and
pack things for the excursion. At half past seven we
went to the boat and sailed. There was a tow-boat
and ship tied together, and both were comfortably
full. I began making acquaintances fast and all were
in high spirits and full of glee. At 11 >^ we arrived
at our destination, Fort Point, opened dinner baskets
and made our picnic. We had a nice clam chowder
in which fish was very scarce, and the tables were
14

210 A DAUGHTER OP THE PURITANS
plentifully provided with good things. At two we
sailed again and stopped at Fort Knox. This we
went all over, and truly it is a splendid fort and worthy
of Maine. I cannot describe it, but it is very large,
about half finished, and aU of soHd stone. We passed
through some winding and mysterious passages,
perfectly dark, and it made me shudder to think of
being left there alone. Mr. Haskins piloted me around
and we went up the most dangerous places, and
scrambled about in just the manner to suit me. Again
we took the vessel and arrived home at half past six, all
very much pleased with the day. I had a beautiful
letter from father to close up with, written in Union
City, Mich, where I was born. He spoke of George
Shepherd & I cannot help referring to him here at
times. I missed him in the excursion and Josie who
would not go without him.
Monday 15th. Sarah, Josie and I took a ride in
the evening, the most beautiful of all portions of the
day. Sarah getting tired we dropped her at the door,
and wishing for a gentleman, we invited Dick Stone,
(familiarly called) to drive us and we took a most
lovely drive. We were gone most too long though, and
frightened uncle Thomas into a headache.
I remember this ride which was taken without
my uncle's knowledge. The carriage was standing
at the door, and he was intending to use it himseU.
Upon the impulse of the moment Josie and I
jumped in, minus hats and coats, intending only to
go around the block. Josie was experiencing a

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL 211
reaction from her weeks of mourning, and was in
high spirits. We went on and on into the country,
in bright moonlight, nor could I, who was getting
anxious and worried, persuade her to turn home
until we were miles from the house on State Street.
Dick Stone, of course, was wUUng to enjoy the fun.
It was well after midnight when we drove a per
spiring horse to the door, and found my uncle
pacing back and forth, nervous and excited. It
was the only time I ever saw him really angry.
After scolding us roundly, he forbade either of us
to touch the reins of his horse without his permis
sion. My uncle was a lover of horses, and always
drove a fine animal. This wild ride was not con
ducive either to the well being of the horse, or the
comfort of its owner. The short account given
in my journal amuses me. It was a blameworthy
act, but I would not exonerate myself, although I
was helpless to alter the situation.
Wednesday 17th. A picnic was the order to-day
and in a double carriage Jos, uncle and aunt, Charley
and I went to Pushaw where we met the others,
consisting with ourselves of 21 & embarked. Sailed
to an island and spread a bountiful repast. Then re
entered the boat and fished awhile. Another sail
till we landed and it being quite dark, we prepared
a supper and had a second picnic on the grass. We
arrived home a little past nine.

212 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Saturday, August 20th, 1859. To-day I completed
my sixteenth year. I felt a little homesick, it being
my first birthday spent away from home, and hereto
fore it has been celebrated by a little present from all,
and kisses and good wishes, above all, my mother's
conversations urging me to review the past year and
live better in the future. O I wish I heeded more
those counsels, and loved my Savior and was in
short, a better christian and more active in Christ's
service. I hope I have made some little advance in the
past year, and at least have overcome my doubts, and
feel more humbled about my acceptance and pardon.
That would be my worst sin, as God has given
me proof that I am his and he is mine! If I am
spared another twelvemonth I have consecrated
myself wholly and fully to every work my Savior
gives me to do. He is my master and I know no
will of my own. Jesus help me and curb and even
break my will if it plays me false in my service to
thee. Saturday 27th. This morning although the skies
dropped water in great abundance, Jos and I gathered
up our clothes, took an umbrella and trudged home.
(I had spent the night in the Brewer home.) A mile
and a half in a drenching rain will wet a person more
or less, and we were obliged to change clothing. I
find I have not lost my old fondness for ventur
ing forth in rain, and it is all fun and no trouble
at all. Mrs. Harris, (who lived next door), has
her brother visiting her. He is a fine looking
fellow in my opinion yet that does not tell me how
good he is, and I could not judge on so slight an
acquaintance.

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL 213
Monday 29th. Hurrah for school. Yes, I am
quite ready to go again, and this winter Carrie must
learn something. Mr. Shepard pleasant as ever, the
girls all cordial in their greetings, and indeed a very
good beginning. My studies are to be Latin, French
and Chemistry. Jos took tea and I walked over with
her. Tuesday 30th. School again to-day and very
pleasant. I walked from Brewer before school and
tired myself some. Had a letter from mother and
soon I may expect father.
Monday, 5th Sept. Went to school and studied
hard. Wednesday 7th. Last night had a letter from
home, "all hands." It was pleasant indeed, and all
the children are well. To-day I answered it. Went to
Mr. Wilder's singing school for about half an hour.
Then called upon Ellen Fisher, a girl with the merriest
disposition I ever saw, I think.
Thursday Sth. Attended school all day and walked
over to Brewer afterward.
Friday 9th. Went to the usual schoolhouse, and
studied till I was very tired.
Sunday nth. Uncle was sick from an attack of
headache from an attack of yesterday of great severity.
Aunty not well, and I delegated (represented?) the
family all day at church. Charlie accompanied me in
A.M. Prof. Shepherd preached all day.

214 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Tuesday 13th. Sarah Harris expected her soon to
be husband to-day and she waited nervous enough
until too late, to expect him more.
Wednesday 14th. Dr. Smith made his appearance
greatly to Sarah's dehght. We all went in and got a
good view of the fiance, and saw how homely he was.
A great nose and spectacles are his chief characteristics,
unless I except his extreme nervousness and what I
should call a light catarrh. He arrived too late to
come up last night on account of the rain, but this
morning he appeared at ten o'clock, all gloved and
tipped with fashion. She may have him but save me
from the old bachelor.
Saturday 24th. The choir were to meet here for
rehearsal, but owing to the rain only four came. I had
to play, uncle being sick, and we had a nice social
evening. Four umbrellas were left standing in the
hall, near the door, and were stolen after Jos had
opened the door to let in a little air. It was only a
little more than ajar, yet they were taken and someone
in the parlor all the time. A carpet-bag had been left
standing there and auntie had the impulse strike her
and without any reason to assign, took it to another
place where the rascals could not see it. That is what
I call providential and the hand of God in a very small
event yet very plainly seen.
It is evident that to my mind, umbreUas were
not so worthy of providential care and interposi
tion as carpet bags.

XLIII
A SCHOOL incident
My journal does not extend beyond the first
of November of the year 1859. If kept later
in another book, it is lost. My father's visit
about that time, a matter of supreme interest
to me, the Musical Convention in the chorus of
which he and I sang, the daily events of school,
visits and excursions, Sundays' sermons were the
record of an uneventful Ufe.
One distressing incident happened to me during
the winter. The Latin class to which I belonged,
was studying Virgil. It was comprised of thirty
or more girls, so large that it was impossible for
each one to recite more than once or twice a week.
I had so good a record I was often passed by. On
one occasion (I had been called upon the preced
ing day), I concluded it was safe for me to omit
the preparation of the lesson for that day. It was
a whim that led me to take the risk, partly because
it was a risk, although I had also been pressed for
215

2i6 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
time. We took our seats on the front settees
and were reciting when three gentlemen, members
of some educational or examining board, entered.
They were seated on the platform with due cere
mony, and the recitation went on. The girl who
was up was making poor work of our much-abused
Virgil, and rather sharply she was ordered to take
her seat. Another girl was called and another.
Both translated badly. They were frightened by
the visitors who were paying close attention to the
class work. With a sigh of relief, Mr. Shepard
called on me. "Miss Stickney, begin at the first
line and give us the whole lesson in a free trans
lation, " were the fateful words I heard. My
heart was in my mouth as I answered, "Not
prepared." ' ' Miss Stickney, stand. ' ' I stood. ' ' Proceed, "
came the order. Since I dared not disobey, I
stammered something. The page looked black,
and the words were run together. Soon, flounder
ing badly in deep waters, I sank into my seat.
The pained, angry look on my teacher's face
warned me. We never sat until we were signaled
to do so. I rose again and said, "I am not pre
pared, Mr. Shepard. ' '
With a quiet, "I will speak to you after school, "
I was left to my humiUation, and the recitation

A SCHOOL INCIDENT 217
went on. But the lesson was ruined. All the
girls were frightened and soon the class was
dismissed. As I waited after school, and the room was
cleared of teachers and scholars, Mr. Shepard
called me to him. The interview was short but
decisive, somewhat upon these lines.
Mr. Shepard said, ahnost roughly, "What was
the matter with you this afternoon?"
"I was not prepared, " was my answer.
"So you said, but why were you not pre
pared ? ' '
I did not answer. "Are you not feeling well?"
came more kindly.
I would not lie. "I am feeling perfectly well,"
I said. "What explanation can you give?"
"Not any, except —except that I did not think
I would be called upon. "
"Miss Stickney, this is most surprising, most
unexpected. It is not like you. I thought I
could always depend on you. "
"It seems you cannot," I said. "The unexpected
will sometimes happen, ' ' I added with an at
tempt to be jocose. But I was miserable, and my
eyes were filled with unshed tears held back for
very pride.

2i8 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
"Do you realize that your failure demoralized
the whole class?"
As I remained sUent, he continued, "I am to
understand then, that you have no explanation to
give of your absolute failure to prepare to-day's
lesson; that you deliberately came to the class
without having looked at the book? "
I could only assent. After a pause he said:
"See that this never happens again. If there is
good reason for your not having studied the lesson,
come to me before the class recitation and get
excused. But do not think you wUl escape without
punishment. Within a week, you will hand to me
a composition on the subject, ' Nothing succeeds
like Success.'"
"Why, Mr. Shepard," I pleaded, "that is beyond
my power to do."
"It is imperative, " he said. "I will give you
a fuU week, but it must be done, in addition to
perfect recitations in all your classes."
Well I remember how I struggled with that com
position. I sat up late nights and rose early morn
ings, and the result was the most miserable trash
about Napoleon and George Washington. Besides,
I was called upon every day of that week to read
the translation of the full lesson, in Virgil, a penalty
so evident that all the girls were much amused.

A SCHOOL INCIDENT 219
When, timidly and shamefacedly, I handed my
poor effort to my teacher, he smiled in the kindest
manner, and said: "The incident is closed, Miss
Stickney." Then and not tUl then did the hardness in my
heart give way, as, with many tears, I said, ' ' I am
sorry, Mr. Shepard."
"I know you are," said he. "So am I, but
remember the incident is closed. "
I never again gave that teacher nor any other, a
poorly prepared recitation. I understood that it
was a point of honor, each day to do my best, and
that anything short of that was disrespectful to
the instructor.
I heard years later, that Mr. Shepard enlisted
in the Civil War, on the side of the North, and was
kUled in service. I do not know whether that
was the truth. I do know that no better man, no
more tactful gentleman ever filled the office of
principal in a girls' high school. In this instance,
the fact that my penalty for failure in duty was
prolonged over a week's time, by the struggle with
the composition on what was for me an impossible
subject, taught me that poor work as a student
would not and could not be tolerated. The severity
of my punishment impressed not only me, but the
whole class who leamed in some way about it, so

220 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
that from that time, the recitations in the Virgil
class reached a high water mark.
One of my greatly loved teachers. Miss Helen
Thurston, went afterwards as a missionary to
China, but did not reach her port. The vessel on
which she sailed was never heard from.
At the end of a year, most delightful in every
way, in Bangor, all the pleasant intimacies with
teachers and classmates were broken off, and I
have seen few of those dear people since. What
their history has been and how many are still living
I do not know. Fanny Foster, Laura Farnham,
Mary Thurston, a delicate girl, sister of the teacher,
who fell ill and died, early in her life, of consump
tion, Emma Littlefield, Amanda WUson,-^I give
their real names here, and could add others, — all
were dearly loved, but passed out of my life. My
grandparents, aunts, and uncles are gone, my
cousins have moved away. My cousin Charles
has died, and none of our family lives now, in
Bangor.

XLIV
ENTRANCE INTO WHEATON SEMINARY
I SPENT most of the next year at home, recruit
ing in health, for I was far from strong. The
doctor, in order to straighten my shoulders,
made me walk ten minutes at a time with the
dictionary on my head, and he ordered an out-of-
door life. I was given a patch of ground just
below the terraces, to make into a fiower garden.
As mother was an enthusiast about fiowers, she
helped me to lay out the beds, make borders,
and plant seeds. Naturally the garden was a
success. I rode horseback on pleasant days, and
spent hours in my pine grove. I tried to keep
up some study and read a little French and Latin,
but interruptions were frequent and I found my
mind getting fallow and undisciplined. Early
the following spring, I announced that I was
going to school, was going to take a regular course
of study and be graduated. I asked my father
to send me to Vassar whose brilliant history had

222 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
just begun, but he did not approve of college for
girls. It tended to make them mannish and un
ladylike. The first one knew, our daughters
wotdd be walking with canes and smoking cigars.
Poor father! Could he have seen the advanced,
the modern girl I
I chose Wheaton Seminary, where some of our
RockvUle girls had been. At that time it stood
side by side with Mt. Holyoke in its reputation for
the higher education of girls, and in Wheaton,
differing in that respect from Mt. Holyoke, the
students were not obliged to do any of the house
work. That appealed strongly to me, to whom all
domestic work was a bore, only to be undertaken
when one's mother was Ul, or the maid of all work
was absent.
Wheaton Seminary, now Wheaton CoUege, was
situated in the pretty, quiet viUage of Norton,
Massachusetts. A more perfect spot for study
could not have been found. Mrs. Wheaton, then
living, kept close watch of the interests of the
school, and often contributed generously of her
funds, when money was needed. For although the
expenses of pupils were small, board being two
dollars and a hah a week, and tuition eight dollars
a term, yet the table was exceUent and lectures
and entertainments were provided from Boston

WHEATON SEMINARY 223
and Providence, making it often necessary to
eke out the slender income. Thither I was
sent, and enjoyed one delightful term.
For the first, and I believe, the last time in my
life, upon my entrance into Wheaton Seminary,
I experienced homesickness, real nostalgia. I felt
awkward and shy, not knowing any of the girls
or teachers. And I was unable to hide my feeling
of strangeness and aloneness, when I saw the
meetings of girls who had been in the school
before, and who rushed into each other's arms
with joyful greetings.
The second morning after my arrival, I was in
the crowd of students in the Seminary Hall,
waiting for the nine o'clock bell to ring, when one
bright, jolly girl brought in the mail. She read
off the names of fortunate recipients of home
messages when she came to a letter for me. I
could recognize my mother's fine handwriting on
the envelope, and knew that she had sent an early
love letter to me, expecting it to reach me in the
very beginning of school Ufe. "Where's Miss
Carrie Stick — Stick — Stick-in-the-mud? " I reached
for the letter. The girl, laughing, held it above
my reach, and I jumped for it. This provoked
joy from all the rest. "Well, you're a new one,
aren't you?" said the teaser. "Haven't had the

224 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
honor of meeting you yet." She bowed low, and
presented me to aU the others, saying, ' ' Girls, this
is Miss Stick-in-the-mud. "
AU my sense of humor vanished. I felt as if I
had committed a crime. My mother had also
been hurt, insulted. Slowly I went to my room.
I was alone at first, my roommate not arriving
untU later. I shut and locked the door, threw
myseU on the bed, face downward, and cried with a
breaking heart until I was worn out. I wanted
mother, just mother. I must go to her. I deter
mined to pack my smaU trunk, steal unobserved
out of the house, and start for home. I spent aU
morning in this miserable manner, sobbing and
packing. I paid no heed to the dinner bell. No
one missed me, and at that thought I cried the
more. At last one of the older girls did miss me
and knocked at my door. UnwUlingly I opened it.
She understood the situation. "What's this?
Packing for home? You're homesick. Miss Stick
ney. But that's no matter. Lots of girls are that
way, and they cry their eyes out just as you have
been doing. Let's unpack and brave it out."
Tears came again, but I permitted this comforter
to take my clothes out of the trunk and lay them
in the drawers. Then she caught me in her arms,
drew us both down into the rocking-chair, and

^^arnrn..

m ^

Uif^^'.-'

<^^^

KJ^>H

m^^ 1

B'^^

>- 1

li^^'''

'#''

'^-^^

Mrs. Caroline C. Metcalf, Principal of Wheaton Seminary for
Twenty-five Years

WHEATON SEMINARY 225
kissed me. She told me of funny happenings in the
school and made me laugh. The crisis was passed.
I went to supper and had a good appetite. After
a night's sleep I felt better and then work began,
the best panacea for a troubled heart.
Whether Mrs. Metcalf heard of this incident
I do not know, but very soon a different arrange
ment was made for the distribution of the mail.
The letters were placed on a certain table and
each girl went for her own. In those days we were
required to leave our letters open for censorship,
before mailing. No male correspondents were
aUowed unless express permission was obtained
from parents.
Homesickness is a real affliction, and one who
has experienced its desolation will feel sorry for the
poor little heart which is mourning for mother.
Mrs. CaroUne C. Metcalf, the principal, was
eminently fitted for her position. She was quick
and decided, peremptory but kind, helpful to
those who had come there for work, unsparing in
her sarcasm towards those who were negligent or
indifferent. She had her eye on everybody, and
if girls got together after retiring bell had struck,
and made never so little noise, a quick, nervous
knock would be heard at the door, and "Young
ladies, why are you not in your own rooms?"

226 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
would cause a hurried breaking up of the party.
Mrs. MetcaU's success was due, beyond aU other
things, to her selection of her teachers. If one
was found incompetent, she stayed only one term.
Those who were in the school when I was there,
were the best to be found in aU the country, who
taught, not for money but for the sake of in
fluence. Their salaries were ridiculously small.
These women had a tremendous influence for
good over the young girls committed to their
care. Lucy Larcom, then in her prime, taught
English Literature and Composition. What an
inspiration it was to sit in her classes and hear
her talk about the men who had made the Utera
ture of our language the best in the world! She
was a poet, and her face often glowed with the
fervor of her thought. She had little patience
with dull or uninterested members of the class,
but to one who cared as she did about her sub
jects, she would give of the whole riches of her
knowledge, as to an intimate friend. I often
went to her room after school hours, and in the
evenings, and sat on a little stool at her feet, en
raptured with her conversation and her personality.
She was never trivial, although possessing a strong
sense of humor which made her eyes twinkle while
she laughed till she shook. Her voice was low and

Miss Lucy Larcom, Teacher of English in Wheaton Seminary

Miss Cutler
House Mother

WHEATON SEMINARY 227
sweet, and she talked in a poetical way, often
mystical, always spiritual, of the loftiest subjects.
Her religious trust was deep, vital, abiding. To
me she was the ideal of an inspired prophetess.
Next to my mother, I owe to this strong, sweet
woman, the inspiration of my own life. When she
took a room out of the Seminary, in order to be
quieter, and her former room was given to me, I
always felt that the angel of her presence was with
me, making even the furniture different from that
of any other place in the house. Miss Larcom's
face rises before my mind this minute, the most
beautiful I ever knew, glowing with her soul's fire,
kindly helpful. She was a friend of Whittier,
and had letters from him which she treasured. One
dared not even think an unworthy thought in her
presence. Then there was Miss Cutler, later Mrs. Harrison.
She was practical, a little stiff perhaps, but kind
ness itself. One went to her i£ one felt homesick
or blue. She made us put on our rubbers in damp,
and an extra wrap in cold, weather. She was
comfortable, homelike, and came to us in sickness
or if we were in trouble. I do not remember
whether she taught any classes, but as a sort of
housemother, she was invaluable.
Miss Windsor was tall, dark-eyed, dreamy.

228 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
strikingly handsome, and, I fancy, of a passionate
and romantic nature. I studied Botany with her
and under her enthusiastic leadership, acquired
a great love for flowers. Many of the girls adored
this wonderful woman, and thronged to her room
after study hours. I am sure she was easUy a
perfect disciplinarian, getting work from her
classes because it was she herself who required it.
Miss Cole was the admirable teacher of Mathe
matics. She was quiet and rather cold. No one
worshiped her, but no one neglected her recitations.
Her displeasure was not pleasant to endure.
When the recitation went badly her small foot
went tap, tap, under the table. No girl could keep
her self -composure with the tapping of that foot,
but would usuaUy give the matter up and sit down.
Dullness was unpardonable. I enjoyed my review
of Higher Arithmetic and Algebra under Miss
Cole, and wiUingly worked my best.
It was with her that we used to arise at four
o'clock and go into the fields and woods to learn
the songs of the birds. It seemed to me there
was nothing in the field of nature which she did
not know. Birds, their nests and their habits,
insects, mosses, lichens, trees, all these were mat
ters of intimate knowledge with her.
I studied Geometry with sweet Sarah Paine,

Miss Maria Mellus
Teacher of Drawing

WHEATON SEMINARY 229
one of the younger teachers, faithful, conscientious,
competent. She was not long for this world, and
I think her delicate health prevented her from
coming back after my first year. We were
supposed not to refer to the book, the first six
books of Plajrfair's Euclid, in our study, but to
work out the problems and theorems ourselves.
The figures were drawn on the blackboard, and we
copied them and the theorems into our notebooks.
I taught the next class in Geometry, and so well
had I mastered my subject, I taught from memory,
seldom, if ever, referring to the text-book.
Miss Mellus, teacher of drawing, and Miss Carter,
Miss Larcom's successor, loved each other with
that soul devotion which unmarried women some
times feel for one another. After a time, they
lived in a cottage of their own, and came to their
classes from outside. Their end was tragic. Miss
MeUus becoming nearly blind, and both dying
from the same lingering, painful, dreadful disease,
meeting death bravely, almost defiantly, in the
little cottage.

XLV
CONTEST WITH MY PARENTS
After my first term, during the summer vaca
tion, to my dismay, my father and mother decided
against my return to Wheaton Seminary, and
father entered my name for the Normal School in
New Britain. The only reason they gave was
that they wanted me nearer home, in case I should
become ill and need mother's attention. This
seemed to me entirely inadequate, as I saw no
likelihood of my health failing. For some reason
I had a poor opinion of the State Normal School,
probably from prejudice and not from a knowledge
of facts. I had made my plans, with Mrs. Met-
calf's cooperation, for the continuation of my
course, and I simply could not be disappointed.
I besought my father to change his decision, but
to no purpose. Mother, too, was inexorable, but
referred the final result to father. It was the first
time he had been hard and cold with me and
indifferent to my desires. When I was assured
230

CONTEST WITH MY PARENTS 231
that no essential objection in my father's mind
barred the way to Wheaton, I determined to go
thither. About two weeks before the fall term
began, I went to father and asked him for fifteen
doUars. He gave it to me without a word. I went
to Hartford and bought material for two dresses,
also a hat. Mother refused to help me with the
sewing. I therefore went to a friend and spent the
days with her, she cutting and basting as I sewed.
During this time the family relations were strained.
On the morning of the day of my departure, all
of my simple preparations were finished, and my
small trunk was packed. WhUe waiting for the
stage which was to take me to Vemon, I went to
father who was seated at his desk in his office.
"Father, I want $75," I said. He handed me
his pocket-book. I took from it the amount which
I had specified, said good-bye, receiving no re
sponse, then went to mother for her parting kiss
which she refused (the first and only time), and
entered the stage. Until then I had kept my
courage up, but once started, I burst into tears
and had a good cry. Over and over I said to
myself, "I am right, they are wrong." Drying
my tears at length, I went bravely on, and took
up my school duties. I wrote home regiUarly for
three or four weeks before one answer came. Then,

232 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
gradually those dear people took me back into
their affection and things were as before.
Upon the night of my graduation day, two
years after, father and I were walking together
under the grand old Wheaton elms. Back and
forth we promenaded, I proud to have with me so
splendid a man on this occasion all important to
me. He had been present at our exercises, at
the concert in which I had played on one instru
ment, the primo of a duet on two pianos (selec
tions from Norma), besides a solo; had heard my
essay on "The Everlasting HiUs" ending with the
valedictory, prepared under Miss Larcom's direc
tion and tied with a blue ribbon, and had seen the
scholarship register, in which my record was
a perfect mark in every study. The graduation
exercises of those days were very different from
the elaborate functions of to-day. Every girl of the
graduation class had to read an essay, before the
audience composed of trustees and friends, an
ordeal which daunted the bravest soul.
My father said: " My daughter, I know how you
have struggled to make the most of your time and
opportunities during these two years, in order to
save me expense, making up many of the studies
and completing a four years' course in this Umited
time, and I want to say to you that your choice of

CONTEST WITH MY PARENTS 233
Wheaton was right and mine for you was wrong.
This is the better school, and more fitted for you,
and I can see that you have here developed a strong
religious and intellectual character. The teachers
are fine. I don't know how you could be so sure
of your course in opposition to your mother's and
my wish, but I am glad to see you a graduate of
Wheaton, and I congratulate you on your un
doubted success."
That was my father. He would own his mistakes
when convinced that he was wrong. Indeed his
love and care for me are interwoven with every
part of my being. All the same, it must have
been trying, at the time, to have a daughter who
knew her own mind so thoroughly.
It is worth while to consider how this determined
difference with and rebellion against the wishes
of my parents was consistent with my usual
conscientious character. For at that time, my
conduct was guided by a keen sense of right and
wrong. I knew that obedience to parents was
commanded in the Bible and was in itself the law
of the family, especially while I was being sup
ported by my father. The simple fact was that
we, my parents and I, were all concerned to procure
for me, at small expense, the best education
possible. I knew better than they (so I reasoned,)

234 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
where my best development could be obtained.
I wished a thorough education and was ready for
hard work. My one term at Wheaton had satis
fied me that there was no better place for the
acquirement of a woman's education; at any rate
it was the place for me. I suffered, not from the
thought that I was doing wrong, but because I
had pained my father and mother, and had seemed
ungrateful for all their goodness to me.
Father's friendship for Mr. David N. Camp,
Mr. Charles Northend, and others connected with
the Normal School in New Britain, influenced
him, I very well knew, in his wish that I should go
thither. In mother's case she wished me to come
home at the end of every week, as I could easUy
do in an hour or two of traveling. This I knew
would be detrimental to my success, as habits of
study would be interrupted at home. I must have
the solid term for work.
I never regretted my decision, and it was a
solitary instance of deliberate rebeUion against my
parents' wishes. One of the sweetest memories of
my life is of that evening walk among the trees of
Wheaton, when my father approved of my course.

XLVI
THE RELIGIOUS ATMOSPHERE OF WHEATON
SEMINARY
After the fine inteUectual training which we
received at Wheaton, the principal feature of the
school was its intensely religious atmosphere.
This, of course, appealed to me. Half-hours, one
for each roommate to be alone in her room, were
rung moming and evening for private devotion.
We were urged to spend this time in reading the
Bible and prayer. I fear these duties were often
hurried through, so as to have time for a last hasty
glance at a lesson, but the infiuence of such a
custom was felt in a quickening of conscience.
Every Friday evening Deacon King came from
Providence and held a prayer-meeting, after which
he talked privately with those who wished to
become Christians. He was an excellent and
devoted man. Attendance at these meetings was
not compulsory, but was, generally, large. "Con
versions" were frequent. Upon entering, I had
235

236 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
told Mrs. Metcalf of my intention to become a
missionary. She advised me to practice work of a
missionary character while I was a student. The
care of the youngest class in school was given me,
and it was my duty to ascertain the spiritual state
of each girl (about forty in all), and report to
Deacon King. Every Wednesday evening I held
a prayer-meeting (this was in my senior year),
especiaUy for those girls. I taught them also in
Bible class on Sundays. Consequently many of
them came to me in a most intimate way with
their spiritual difficulties. The one idea then was
that we must "win souls for Christ," if we were
really His followers. I wUl give one instance of the
sort of work which I undertook.
A new student who puzzled and troubled me,
because she seemed so unapproachable, cold, and
haughty, entered one of the younger classes in the
fall of 1861. Eliza asked no favors from any one,
and from choice avoided other girls so that she
literaUy had no friends. She was perfect in her
recitations, dressed well, seemed contented, and
was, evidently, from a good famUy. I watched her
for a long time, then determined to take up her
case. One afternoon I asked her to walk with me.
Greatly surprised, for she always walked alone,
she hesitated, then consented. We were required,

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE AT WHEATON 237
if well, to walk every pleasant afternoon, and many
friendships were cemented in the beautiful, quiet,
and safe paths which led through the woods, fields,
and gentle roads of Norton. As we walked, I asked
Eliza about her home and famUy. Her parents
were not living, and she could not remember her
mother. How my heart went out to her, thinking
of my own mother and father 1 An uncle was her
guardian, and he had sent her to Wheaton, she
thought, to get her out of the way. I asked her
why she did not come to my prayer-meeting. She
frankly said that she had no interest in reUgious
matters. She said, further, to my horror, that she
had never sinned, and had no need of a Savior.
She had always been truthful, obedient to her
uncle, and had done what she considered her duty.
Had I any fault to find with her as a student? I
had none. "But," I said to her, "you have
faUed to keep the most important commandment
of all, the first and greatest." This startled her
and she asked what that commandment could be.
I quoted the verse, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy soul, heart, and mind." "Have
you done that?" I said. She had never thought
of that, and she wondered if it were possible to
keep such a commandment. I told her that it was
not, but we must try, and that our whole being

238 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
must be fiUed with a desire thus to love our Maker.
I saw that I had made an impression on Eliza, and
I asked as an especial favor that she would come to
my Bible class the next Sunday. She promised,
came, and seemed interested. I handed her a note
as she went out asking her to walk with me again.
But before the day came for our walk, I felt that
I could not wait. I then wrote another note
which I passed under her door, on the afternoon
of the Wednesday evening prayer-meeting. I
asked her to be present if she had made up her
mind to try to keep the greatest of the command
ments. She was there, evidently under the stress
of much emotion. I whispered to her to go to the
small music room where we both often practised,
and where I would soon come. I found her crying
bitterly. She wept, she said, because she was the
greatest of sinners, having broken the greatest of
the commandments, whUe she caUed herseU with
out sin. " Conviction of sin ' ' was most thoroughly
iUustrated. We both fell on our knees and prayed
while we wept. Eliza clung to me. At last she
was quieted, and we sat arm in arm upon the sofa,
while we talked, literally, for hours. I was per
mitted the exercise of much discretion in the time
of retiring, being a pupil-teacher. I quoted the
verse, "He is faithful and just to forgive." She

RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE AT WHEATON 239
believed the promise, and asked me if I thought
she was worthy to work for God. I assured her
that in no other way could she show her sincerity.
From that day Eliza was wonderfuUy transformed.
She was approachable, friendly, pathetically
humble. She was ardently attached to me and
never passed me without a smUe of sweet under
standing. We had many walks together and her
conversation was almost wholly of what God
had done for her and what she wished to do for
Him. Eliza remained with us until the close of the
summer term, then went to her uncle's home. She
expected to come back, but died, suddenly, a
month or so after reaching home.
NaturaUy, such work as this which strongly
interested me, encroached upon my time for study.
It was only by working early and late, by keeping
my lamp burning long after the house was silent
and dark, that I accomplished my school tasks.
For my piano practice I was accustomed to rise at
four and spend two hours before breakfast in the
Seminary hall, where the dormitories could not be
disturbed, practicing on the grand piano. Mr.
Fuller, from Providence, was a very good teacher.
GeneraUy he was satisfied with my progress. If
not, some sarcastic remark would make me

240 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
feel most uncomfortable. He laid for me a fine
foundation on the piano, which, later, I built
further upon, during nearly two years' study in
Leipsic.

Mr. Fuller, Teacher of Music in Wheaton Seminary

XLVII
SANCTIFICATION AND HOLINESS
The reUgious movement which I am about
to describe, and which went like a fire through
New England, including in a mighty revival.
Christian people, some now living may be able to
remember, along with the intensity of emotion
with which it was attended. It was called a second
conversion or sanctification. Those who attained
to this state became holy, like God Himself, and
lived without sin. Justification was experienced
in the first conversion, but that was a low ideal
for a Christian who should aspire to a sinless state,
a habit of holiness. This was the highest ex
perience of a soul, either in heaven or on earth.
Whoever attained would be under the especial
care of the Holy Spirit whose guardianship would
be like a protecting armor of holiness, making sin
impossible. This blessed uplift could be obtained
by faith alone. God would answer prayer, even
the prayer for holiness. If one believed that one
i6 241

242 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
came into that blessed state, one was already there.
It was a region of perfect purity and peace. No
trouble could disturb this peace which lifted the
soul above affliction or bereavement. The desire
for sanctification shook our school to its center.
For days teachers and pupils strove mightily for it.
Classes were suspended, and prayer-meetings took
their place. Deacon King was with us most of the
time. At all hours of the day, supplication could
be heard as a few gathered together in the small
music and study rooms. We wept, we struggled.
All faces were awe-struck. A solemn hush instead
of the cheerful hum of girls' voices was ever5rwhere.
As one and another emerged from this sorrowful
state and announced with joy that she had be
come sanctified, those who were stUl in darkness
crowded around and asked how she had done it.
The answer was always the same, "I simply
beUeved God's word." With faces shining these
persons went among the others and tried to help
them. Most of the teachers professed "to
have attained," before the scholars. Those to
whom no light was vouchsafed were wholly mis
erable. I was one of the last to believe, and
reach sanctification, but, finally, after a solemn
interview with Deacon King, I came into the
light. After this I was calm and happy, and

SANCTIFICATION AND HOLINESS 243
I told in prayer-meeting that my struggles were
ended. There was a physical as well as psychological
element in this singular experience. One cannot
maintain such intense emotion for long. Some
thing must break. The calm that came from
belief, or "faith, " was, partly, at least, a nervous
reaction, following intense excitement.
If I remember correctly. Miss Larcom and Miss
Cole kept away from this singular revival, but
said nothing to discourage it. Mr. Fuller also
kept silence, but I had the impression that he was
secretly amused, and sceptical.
I wrote home about my wonderful experience,
and urged my parents also to believe and be sancti
fied. My father, while congratulating me, did not
seem to be as enthusiastic as I supposed he would
be. Perhaps the thought of a sinless daughter
was not wholly pleasing. When I next went home,
I determined to do some missionary work with
father and mother. I had a lofty, spiritual air, a
tranquiUity of soul which nothing could disturb,
for I wished to show them what a sanctified person
should be.
One day father and I walked down to the village
together. My conversation was on high and holy
themes. Father remarked about the weather.

244 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
fearing it might rain before he could get in his hay.
I remember my exact words in reply. "My
heavenly Father has sent this weather because it
pleases Him. Therefore it pleases me."
"Oho," said father. "Being satisfied with the
weather is sanctification is it?"
I felt like a pricked toy balloon. I had reproved
my father. Was that not sin? But I could not
sin. I did not even need to guard against it,
because now it was contrary to my nature. But
how silly I must appear to father! Silly and
stupid. Not all at once did I relapse from sanctification,
but very soon I realized that "the old man" was
still there, and I was not only tempted, but gave
way to irritation or sharp words, just as I always
had done. And I recall with some amusement how
relieved I felt to come down from my high estate
where it had been really uncomfortable to keep
myself constantly perched. I was like a chUd
who, after trjdng hard to be good, simply gives it
up and enjoys being naughty. By and by I
fancied that one conversion was enough for me,
and I became normal in my conduct. Mother
and father wisely said little, but they both
suggested that my duty lay in self-forgetfulness, in
ceasing to think about my own state, and in being

SANCTIFICATION AND HOLINESS 245
kind and helpful where help was needed, in trying
to make the world a little better for my being in it.
When I went back to Wheaton, everything was as
usual ; everybody sinned as of yore, and the word
"sanctification" became obsolete.
The Civil War began while I was in Wheaton,
and in the school it produced a mighty commotion,
a wave of patriotism which swept all before it. We
wore buttons and small flags. We spent every
spare moment of our time in making gray fiannel
shirts and knitting woolen socks for the soldiers.
We also pulled lint and rolled bandages. A few
Southern girls dared to wear secession buttons.
We Northerners made their lives a burden to
them. We tore their buttons from their waists,
and shunned the wearers as we would some con
tagious disease. At last Mrs. Metcalf interfered
and took away the buttons from all of us; also
she advised the Southern girls to go home and
not come back. After the next vacation there
were few among us who were not sympathizers
with our union aspirations.
We had a great fiag raising. A fine fiag was
purchased with our united contributions, and was
raised and unfurled with great ceremony. Miss
Larcom composed a poem for the occasion, and
we had speeches from the trustees, in an out-of-

246 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
doors meeting. We sang with all our strength of
voice The Star-Spangled Banner, and we laughed
and we cried as we sang. Most of us had a soldier
friend or relative in the army, from whom we had
exciting letters. I had one such friend, the boy
that used to draw me on his fine sled to the
Rockville school. He survived the war after a
long hospital experience, having received a wound
in the hip which lamed him for life, an honorable
lameness as I thought then and do now. He too
is gone.

XLVIII
MISSIONARY ASPIRATIONS QUENCHED
After my graduation from Wheaton, I remained
at home for the summer. I began seriously to
consider carrying out my plans for becoming a
missionary, and begged my father to propose my
name to the Congregational Board of Missions,
the A.B.C.F.M. He wrote to the Secretary of the
Board, Mr. Treat, and invited him to visit us for
the purpose of examining his daughter. This
gentleman came, being interested, of course, in
my candidacy. I told him I wished to teach in
some such school as that in Beirut, where Miss
Rice and Miss Fiske were then stationed. But
first I would study for a year the language of the
country to which I should be sent, without salary.
My father, indeed, offered to pay my salary, ship
a piano to my home, and send me whatever I
should need for my happiness, of books, music, and
furniture. Mr. Treat stayed with us two or three
days studying me, I have no doubt, then gave his
247

248 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
decision. It was adverse. He said that I was too
delicate in health to enter upon such an arduous
life, of the hardships and requirements of which
I had no suspicion. If I were to go now, I would
either break down or have to be sent home because
of invalidism. They wanted in the work strong
and sturdy women. "Besides," he added, "we
want married women more than single. Even if it
curtails the wife's time to work, the Christian
family planted in the midst of heathenism is worth
more than teaching and preaching." Had I any
thought of being some missionary's wife? I had
not. The conclusion was that if my health became
more settled in the course of a few years, I might
offer myself again. At present it would be a
needless sacrifice of an American girl's life, and Mr.
Treat strongly advised a long rest in my home
which, he said, was a most attractive place.
I was not needed at home, the younger children
being still there, and I intended to find something
to do. In those days teaching was the only lady
like occupation, and my father strongly opposed
even that for me, saying that there was money
enough in the till for us both. But I could not rest.
I knew that I should never present myself for
the missionary field again. The enthusiasm had
suddenly gone out. This then was the end of my

MISSIONARY HOPES QUENCHED 249
aspirations in that direction. The responsibility
was not mine. I felt that the Lord's hand was in
it, and that He wanted me in some other place.
One day two gentlemen drove from New Britain
to see my father. They were Mr. Northend and
Mr. Bartlett, the former one of a school committee,
the latter the principal of the High School of that
city. They were seeking an assistant to the
principal for the school. They had met me at a
"Teachers' Convention," held in Vernon. They
knew of my desire to teach, and came to offer me
the position. There need be no examination, as
they had judged of my competency in my answers
given at the convention to questions proposed by
the leader. I accepted the position and left details
to be arranged with father. I was to receive four
hundred dollars salary, and woidd be instructed in
my duties by the principal when the time came.
I entered upon this work early in September, and
remained for two years engaged in what was
always a delightful task. Mr. Bartlett left after
a year's time to take charge of the Normal School
which held its sessions upstairs in the same
building, and whose principalship was considered
an advance both socially and pecuniarily upon that
of our city high school.
The members of the senior class of the Normal

250 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
School, by teaching classes for practice in the High,
saved the expense of a second assistant for that
school. I never could see any other advantage,
for the Normal pupils were young, always in
experienced, and generally were failures as
regarded discipline. Their classes constantly de
manded supervision from the regular high school
teachers. A substitute teacher has no real author
ity, and youngsters understand that perfectly.
The Intermediate and Primary schools of the
city were held in the same building with the High.
During the morning and aftemoon recesses the
teachers of all the grades were accustomed to
gather before the windows of the Intermediate
which overlooked the yards where the boys and
girls played. Miss Martin, an exceedingly capable
and delightful teacher, had charge of this grade.
She was a good singer, and taught her pupils to
sing sweetly and with expression. I remember
especiaUy the singing by her class of List to the
Mocking Bird.
While we were in session one moming news came
of a terrible battle which was going on, between
the Federals and the Confederates in the Civil
War, in which our side was likely to be defeated.
I think, but am not sure, that this was the Battle
of Gettysburg. Consternation fiUed every heart

MISSIONARY HOPES QUENCHED 251
and fear paled every face. It was with difficulty
that we could conduct our classes. At recess, as
with common impulse, we gathered at Miss Mar
tin's window. We spoke in whispers, and some
were in tears. Mr. Bartlett came into this group of
sorrowful women. In a solemn voice he read the
46th Psalm.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help
in time of trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though
the earth do change and the mountains be shaken into
the heart of the seas. Though the waters thereof roar
and be troubled, though the mountains shake with
the swelling thereof.
(The revised version is wonderfully poetical.) We
were gradually calmed. "Now," said our princi
pal, "let us go about our duties with cheerfulness
and confidence. We will not fear. In the end
Right will triumph." The recess-over bell rang,
and we went to our classes, cheered and strength
ened. Mr. Bartlett was an ideal man for his
position, kind and lovable, with easy and perfect
discipline. It was a blow to the High School
when, at the end of my first year as assistant,
he left us for the Normal. As no principal could
then be engaged for our school, it being late in
the summer, I was asked to assume that posi
tion. I hesitated, for I was far from strong, and

252 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
knew well what the demands upon my physique
would be, but at length agreed to try it for one
term, with an assistant, hoping that by the
beginning of the winter term some man could be
found, suitable for the principalship. It was quite
doubtful whether a woman, and one so young as I,
could manage the big boys who attended part of
the year, returning to work on farms early in
spring. Consequently they were behind in their
studies, wanting in ambition, and were a drag on
the rest of the school. Many of them were nice
country boys, but others were boorish in their
manners, and might easily get the upper hand of a
lady teacher. Some of these pupils were older
than I, and as I saw their heavy boots tramp over
the fioor and their big bodies slouch into their
desk chairs, I was dismayed. Not that any of
them were vicious, but slow and heavy, needing a
man's hand rather than a girl's. For I was just
twenty-one at this time. Mr. Bartlett came to me
from the school above and encouraged me, adding
that if I had any real difficulty I might appeal to
him, as he would gladly help me out. I thanked
him, but knew that in one way or another I should
be equal to my task, and I should ask help of no
person. The first morning of school, I made the
pupils a little speech in which I said that I expected

MISSIONARY HOPES QUENCHED 253
chivalrous, helpful treatment from every gentle
man among them. If I needed help I should hope
to have it from the boys themselves, and when I
asked if all would act as my assistants, every hand
was raised. Classes were arranged and the
beginnings of our session were auspicious. After
a few days I was aware of some mischief on foot,
as there were sly annoyances, which, for a time, I
could trace to no one. Some boy in passing would
rattle the steam pipes, or amused looks would
admonish me that comic pictures were made on a
slate, or a distressed face among the girls would
mean that a rudeness had been offered her in the
class. Knowing the point of honor among students
never to tell tales on each other, I asked no ques
tions, but became alert and watchful. At last I dis
covered the author of all this, and striking my bell
sharply, demanded attention. I asked how many
of the boys would act for me in a matter of dis
cipline. Nearly all, indeed all, of the older boys
rose, and signified their willingness to " fix " the one
who had troubled me. I then called the culprit
to the front, and showed him the array against
him. I asked my assistants to fit the punishment
to the misdemeanor, which I stated in full. One of
my ever staunch friends said: "Just you leave
him to us, Miss Stickney. He will never trouble

254 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
you again." James began to tremble and beg.
He apologized, and said he would obey all the
rules if only I would "call off" the big boys. I
did so, asking for a delay of the penalty, during
good behavior. After that I had no resistance to
my lawful authority, nor the least infraction of
discipline.

XLIX
YELLOW-COVERED LITERATURE
One other, much more serious affair occurred
during my term of office, which I must describe,
as it made me ill. I had been brought up to
have a holy fear of yellow-covered, dime novels.
They represented to me, not only trash, but
positive evil. I recall my father finding such a
book left in the barn, probably by some boy who
had been playing there. He picked it up with a
pair of tongs and put it into the fire. He said he
would not defile his fingers by touching it. When,
therefore, by the purest accident, I discovered
held inside a study book, a dime novel which the
diligent student was reading, while he had every
appearance of studying, I seized the volume and
examined it. The name was enough. It was
Godbold the Hunter, or Gunner or some such thing.
As I looked with surprise and anger at the boy, he
said, defiantly, "I ain't the only one. There's a
club of the whole school, and a circulating library."
With horror in my heart, I called the school to
255

256 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
attention, and told them of my find, and of the
accusation. I said: "I don't want you to teU of
each other, but I do demand that every one of you
who belongs to this so-called club, and who has
read, during school hours, one of these vile books,
to confess it to me, so that I may take your
names. Also every book belonging to the club
must be brought to me. You have until the close
of school to-night, to make your confession, but
after that I shall listen to no one on the subject."
During the noon recess, I noticed small groups
talking together. All through the afternoon, the
books came in, and names were written down. A
few girls were among the number, and nearly all
the boys. Some wanted to explain, but I would not
listen to a word. At last, some seventy-five books
were thus gathered upon my desk. I was shocked
that all this could have gone on under my eyes,
without my suspecting anything wrong. "How
long has this club been in existence?" I asked.
"Oh, two or three years, " was the answer, and
then it was a sort of comfort to me, that Mr.
Bartlett had also been deceived.
As the hour for closing came, I asked if any one
knew of a book which had not yet been handed in.
One of the older pupils arose and said: "You
have every one. Miss Stickney, and a complete

YELLOW-COVERED LITERATURE 257
list of names. We have kept nothing back."
I dismissed the school, and remained alone, long
at my desk, thinking, horrified, ashamed. I
looked into some of the novels, and they were
indeed dreadful. My father's scorn and contempt
rose vividly in my memory. Some of these books
were blasphemous and others were indecent. I
wished father were there to advise me, but I
knew that nobody could help me. It was my
own problem. But how could I discipline practic
ally the whole school?
The darkness came on, and stUl no way opened
before me. I called the janitor, and told him to
consign every volume to the furnace fiames. I
even went to the cellar to see that my commands
were carried out. I watched the fire of the sacri
fice, then noticing that my head was aching
furiously, I went home. I lived in the house of Mr.
Henry Stanley, and found in both Mr. and Mrs.
Stanley at all times, the most helpful and devoted
friends. As they had a daughter in the school,
the story of the day had reached their ears. I went
straight to my room, resisting dear Mrs. Stanley's
appeal that I should try to eat. I could not even
sit at table, so great was the pain in my head and
the ache at my heart. I fell on my knees but
could not even pray. I felt that, somehow, my

258 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
teaching, the good influence which I had striven
to exert, the satisfied feeling that my scholars
were better for my association with them, all had
miserably faUed. My little talks, my individual
efforts, had been mocked. It did not seem to me
that I could ever enter that school again. I woiUd
have written my resignation then and there, and
gone humbly to my mother's home, except that
such action on my part would have been a shirking
of duty, a breaking of my engagement. Instead,
I indulged in a big cry and went to bed. All night
I tossed with discomfort and pain. Towards
morning I knew that I had fever, and was too
weak to rise. Mrs. Stanley came to me, and to
her I told the story of my faUure. She was sym
pathetic and sensible. She would not hear of my
getting up and sent word to the school that I was
Ul. She made me eat a little, then sent for the
doctor who gave me medicine to make me sleep.
For three or four days I stayed in bed, not caring
whether school kept or not. My pupUs who had
heard of my prostration came in numbers to in
quire about me, and to urge me to get well.
Flowers were sent, kind messages were numerous,
and the upshot of the matter was, that when I was
again able to take up my school duties, I found
myself surrounded by anxious and repentant

YELLOW-COVERED LITERATURE 259
friends who promised with great seriousness never
to make Miss Stickney ill again. This promise was
faithfully kept while I was in the school, and a more
devoted, dear set of pupils a teacher never had.
Curiously enough, this circumstance was
followed by a religious revival in my school.
Whether it was because of my earnest words,
drawn out by the "club" and the "circulating
library, " or because the young people's consciences
were awakened, it became a remarkable movement,
including nine tenths of the school. I conducted
girls' prayer-meetings at recess and after school,
whUe the boys met by themselves in similar meet
ings led by one of them who was an earnest Chris
tian worker. This interest extended into the next
term, after the new principal had come. Many
of the boys and girls, upon profession of their faith,
united with the several churches of the city, and
the interest was felt in the churches themselves.
I think the pernicious dime novel is not so much
in evidence to-day as it was in my teaching days
in New Britain. Perhaps its place is taken by the
ten-cent story-papers and magazines which satisfy
in a less reprehensible manner the natural desire
of young people for sensational and adventurous
literature. Possibly also the Movies stand in lieu
of circulating libraries such as that in my school.

THE NEW PRINCIPAL
At the close of that fall term, just before the
Christmas vacation, I was very tired, and knew
that it would be impossible to continue in my
present position. I therefore told the gentleman
of the committee whose duty it was to engage
teachers, that the school could be competently
managed only by a gentleman, and I asked the
privUege of being allowed to slip back into my
old position of assistant.
"Where, in the middle of the school year, can I
find a man for you?" my committee man asked.
I answered, "Go down to Yale CoUege and ask
one of the professors to direct you to a junior class
student who is in need of the money to complete
his education (there are such, I know), and who
will take the school for the remaining six months of
the year, after which, during the summer vacation,
it will be easy to secure a permanent principal. "
This advice was followed to the letter, and the
260

THE NEW PRINCIPAL 261
gentleman who was thus engaged was Mr. John
Kennedy Creevey who became my principal, and
later, my husband. I met him on the twenty-
first of January, 1865, a day always after
wards celebrated by us as an anniversary. The
term of the High School had already begun,
and I had finished the arrangement of our
classes. Mr. Creevey made a wonderfully successful
principal, keeping his position until the close of the
spring term, into the summer of 1865. During
his absence from college, he kept up with his
class studies, passed his examinations, and entered
on his senior year. Before that time, with my
parents' full approval, we were engaged to be
married. As I was far from well, I resigned my
position in the New Britain High School and
remained a year, resting, at home. I had spent
two years in this delightful work of teaching, and
left my pupUs with regret. But it was quite
necessary for me to take life in a less strenuous
fashion if I was to be fitted for wifely duties.
Mr. Creevey was graduated from Yale CoUege
in 1866, and soon after, on the twentieth of August,
my twenty-third birthday, we stood together,
under the arch of clematis which some of my
husband's classmates had twined, and plighted

262 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
our troth, taking those vows upon us which cannot
lightly be loosened.
It was a simple wedding, at which only a few of
our friends and relatives were present, for our
house was not large, and in those days, quiet home
weddings were the rule. Dr. Leonard Bacon
married us, he having been persuaded, in the
absence of our minister, to come to us from Yale
CoUege. Some of my aunts and uncles were
present, as well as my step-grandmother. Rock
vUle and New Britain friends were there, few of
whom are living now. I wore a simple dress of
white organdie muslin, made in the full style of the
day. I had artificial orange blossoms in my veU
and carried a bouquet of white roses bought from
a Hartford florist. The stockings and white kid
slippers which I wore had been worn by my mother
at her wedding. (I had sewed new bottoms to
the feet of the stockings.) The slippers had very
high heels and narrow toes so that I was extremely
uncomfortable whUe I had them on, and slipped
out of the room as soon as possible to don my own
which were also of white kid. Such is the price
paid by comfort to sentiment.
Mother had prepared a bountiful luncheon which
was enjoyed by every one. The marriage cere
mony was at three to accommodate the New

Mrs. Caroline A. S. Creevey
Taken soon after marriage

THE NEW PRINCIPAL 263
Britain guests who came on the half-past two
train. At five, I had changed my dress for a
traveling suit of soft gray, including a pretty hat,
and my husband and I took the train for New
Haven where I met several of "the boys" to whom
I was the class bride. After that we visited my
husband's parents, and then went to Cincinnati
where my husband had an engagement to teach.
After varied experiences in that city (twice I had
the cholera and came near death), where we lived
for the better part of six years, I went to Leipsic
for the purpose of carrying out my long-cherished
desire to study the piano, harmony of music, and
the German language. My husband meanwhile
gave up teaching and fitted himself for the practice
of law. A vigorous correspondence during this
separation demonstrated that ' ' absence makes the
heart grow fonder, " and our reunion after almost
two years remains one of the most joyful days of
my life. We took up our residence in Brooklyn
and Mr. Creevey practiced law in New York.
It is not my purpose to extend these remiris-
cences beyond that wonderful twentieth of August
when we began our intimate life together. Of
course we "lived happily together forever after,"
but we had our share of trials, of bereavements,
sicknesses, pain, struggles, disappointments, joy,

264 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
and success. We treasure .them all in Memory's
golden bowl. It must be a true love between man
and wife to stand the test of life. Sacrifices must
be made by both, but if the years do not bring
out of Cupid's romance a real comradeship, in
which two natures learn perfect sympathy, in
which they become more unselfish, more full of
understanding, more intimate, more appreciative
of the good qualities of each other, then marriage
indeed, is a failure. And no tragedy is more pitiful
than that.

Latest Photograph of Mrs. Creevey

AFTERWORD
It has been said that the only reason for an
autobiography is the introduction into it of famous
persons whom the writer has met, or failing that
the life story must be absolutely true and frank.
In my case, the first excuse does not exist; the
second does. My childhood and girlhood were
passed in a delightful seclusion, in intercourse with
New England's best men and women, far from
city circles of wealth and fashion. And for
that I cannot be too grateful. The religious
atmosphere in which I lived was intense, strongly
dominating character, guided by a "lively con
science." We were sternly taught that what we
wanted was not always the thing most desirable
of attainment. "He that loseth his life shall
gain it" was the spirit of our religion. To gain
even the whole world and thereby lose one's
soul (the phrase meaning deterioration of char
acter) would be a bad exchange. Self-sacrifice
and self-control were early instUled into chUdren's
minds. 265

266 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
Many Christians were superstitious in their de
pendence on the Bible, believing, for instance, that
the fall of Adam and Eve from a holy estate was
responsible for all the sin and misery of the world,
ever since. Charles Darwin had already disturbed
that legend, and my father, whose mind was given
to clear reasoning, followed the theory of evolution
from lower to higher, with great interest. I re
member his saying that reason and the ability to
have faith were both God-given, therefore they
could not clash. Most people did not think at
all in those days, any more than most people
do to-day. They went with the multitude, or
rather with the long-established doctrines of the
Protestant church. The first flutterings of in
dividual flights of right thinking were weak and
painful. Had my father lived thirty years later,
he would cordially have hailed the advance of
science, even when it disturbed old faiths.
Such a life as mine, although uneventful, ought
to be interesting, and, I hope instructive. I have
always had a full life, free from that blase feeling
which comes from not having enough to fill and
round out the days. Time has never hung heavUy
on my hands. And now that I am on the border
land of old age, my principal emotion seems to be
surprise. I do not feel older than when I was really

AFTERWORD 267
young. If this is to be old, I do not dread it. I
would not lose one out of the many years I have
had, nor one of the trials and physical pains which
I have suffered. They did not leave any real scars.
The lines which tell the story of my age are on my
face. But who, at my age, would wish to have a
perfectly smooth face? That would mean dearth
of experiences, a barren record. In the summer of
1913 I went to Norton and was welcomed as a
fifty-year-old graduate of Wheaton Seminary.
The girls looked me over with a sort of curiosity.
Many of them said, "Why, Mrs. Creevey, you
don't look old as if you had been out of college
fifty years. " I said to them, "Dear young girls, it
is true. I am a fifty-year-old graduate. But don't
worry on my account. In some ways I am as
young as you. And I have had time to learn many
lessons that you still must learn and which you will
find hard. " If life has been full of sweetness and
love for us, of interesting family life and warm
friends, every added year only freshens our youth
by bringing immortality nearer, and adding to our
wonderful store of memories. "Surely goodness
and mercy have followed me all the days of my Ufe. ' '
My early struggles with the religion of fear at
length gave way to that of love. The wonder in
my mind, — I don't call it doubt, — whether all

268 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
could be true which I was taught as a child, came
early, and after some years of indecision, in which
I longed to know but could not; in which parts
of the church creed slipped away from my sturdy
belief, I came to rest quietly contented in the_one
only sure foundation of contentment, the assur
ance that a Di'vine Will is behind the laws of the^
universe, arranging the order of development^^
which we call nature, and that this Divine Will ,
also embraces the highest created thing, humanity;
that harmony in nature can come only in con-.
formity to that Will, and that our human lives,
in order to be perfected, must come into true
subjection to that WUl. Patience in suffering
and trust for all that is mysterious has become my
habit of thought.
In my life many of my dear friends have gone
on before. I miss them sorely and cannot bear
to think I may not meet them again in some other
planet, some fairer home where comradeship may
be renewed through memory. But since I cannot
have such absolute assurance, that also is the Will
of God, and I can rest just there, hoping. Also
I wish I might live another life to correct the
mistakes made in this. But nothing really matters
since the Father of Love directs all.
My own experience has taught me not to regard

AFTERWORD 269
those who differ from me as wrong, while I am
right. (This was a rather hard lesson for me to
learn, for as a young person I was exceedingly sure
of myself. Indeed I was much too self-assertive.)
God manifests Himself in many ways. Many
find Him in the glorious tones of a well-played
organ. And it does seem to me that in music is
our highest expression of religion. Others find
Him in Latin masses and processions, in incense
and vested choirs. Some must kneel in prayer,
whUe others bow the head. To some, every word
in the Apostles Creed and the Shorter Catechism
is heavy with truth and beauty. To me these
are not essentials. Christ preached against long
prayers which were uttered to be heard of men.
He left few rules for our guidance, but left us
free to find God as we would. Spiritual worship,
which is essential, consists in drawing near to God
(calling Him what we will, the Great Unknowable,
the Universal Spirit, the Heavenly Father), and
desiring to become like Him. It should be natural
to open the heart to some perfect Being, infinitely
greater than ourselves, whom we may call God.
Those who feel that going to church and observing
days for fasting and prayer are essentials to spirit
ual life and are meritorious in themselves, are
entitled to my respect, although to me Uturgical

270 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
worship has no connection with morality and
spirituality. It is the inner, the invisible life
which counts, and the outward expression of our
devotion may differ in a thousand ways, all of
which may be acceptable to the One whom we
worship. Many women of this day seem to me to be
making sad havoc of their opportunities when they
devote their best efforts to getting away from their
sex, making of themselves a sort of hybrid, a cross
between man and woman, being unable to perform
all the duties of men, and unwiUing to take up the
distinctive work of women. The matter of "votes
for women" appears to me quite incidental and
unimportant, except as it must almost inevitably
be attended by the cheapening excitement of
politics and, perhaps, by family discord. That
which is termed feminism is certainly dishonoring
to the home because it weakens love for and
desire to have chUdren. The "spinster" from
choice, and from a desire to pursue an uninter
rupted career, deliberately casts aside husband,
home, and chUdren, her greatest blessings. She
is opposing the Divine WUl in her creation. It
would have been possible for God to make us all
men, of equal strength and ability, and to provide
for the propagation of the human race in some

AFTERWORD 271
other way. But He has not done so. And evil
will come if we are out of harmony with that
WUl. It is fair to care for the "ego," and pro
vide for its true development. But I do not find
the ego of the first importance. The great
Teacher came not to be ministered unto. Self-
development should make us strong to help the
weak. And for her contentment there should be
a big margin in every woman's life for duties
and pleasures outside of her family cares. UntU
we find the true solution of the "woman ques
tion," unrest and disturbance, violent partisan
ship, waste of time and energy, with frequent
divorces and neglected or unhappy homes, will
continue. I may not be called one of the new women
because I believe certain things, the best of all ages,
which cannot change. The ideals of true woman
hood are as old as Christ who used his wonderful
powers, not for self-betterment and glorification,
but for heaUng and comforting ; and as Paul who
bade us bear one another's burdens. Too great free
dom for self is a form of selfishness and selfishness is
the cardinal sin of our earth. There can be to-day
no higher ideals of duty than were manifested in and
wrought out of the souls of such women as my
mother. Their well-balanced characters cannot be

272 A DAUGHTER OF THE PURITANS
improved upon, even as the age moves on in sci
ence, in medicine, in wealth, in improvement of
social conditions, in all material matters. For the
life of a man consists not in the outward things
which affect him.
As in the beginning of the Christ Ufe the wise
men cast their most precious gifts at the feet of
the child, so must the women of this age do, find
ing their chief glory in being mothers of sons and
daughters, else the Madonna crown wUl no longer
encircle their brows. Perhaps the Puritan idea
that this life is not all we have to live, but that it
is the beginning of an age-long existence, if really
believed, would bring better results for us all than
the materialism and unbelief which so generaUy
prevaU in our day.
To be a daughter of the Puritans is a goodly
heritage.

3 9002 00486 6027 ^

Illllltllltliti H