A Grandmother's Recollections Part 6

"I ought to have told you not to touch the chickens," said the old lady; "for the hen would even sacrifice her life to protect them."

But experience is the best teacher, after all--the lessons thus gained, though more disagreeable, are seldom forgotten; and I never again meddled with the chickens.

This seemed destined, though, to be a day of misfortunes, to which the chicken business was but a slight commencement. The evening was most lovely, and I accompanied Holly, who bad gone to feed the pigs. A fence separated the pen from the rest of the yard; and on this fence it was Holly's usual practice to perch herself and watch the motions of her charges. She looked so comfortable that I determined to follow her example; and having gained the eminence, I looked around in triumph. But oh, how sad to tell! but a few moments elapsed ere I found myself floundering in the mire beneath; while the pigs all rushed towards me as though I had been thrown there for them to make a supper of. Holly was quite convulsed with laughter; but my screams now became terrific; and calling Sylvia, the two extricated me from my unpleasant predicament.

I was truly a pitiable object, but my white dress was the greatest sufferer: while the tears that rolled down my cheeks grew blacker and blacker as they descended. I almost wished myself home again; but Sylvia, between her paroxyms of laughter, told me "not to cry, and they would soon make me look as good as new--any how, missus musn't see me in such a pickle." They fell to sc.r.a.ping and scouring with the greatest zeal, and then placed me before the kitchen fire to dry.

"How the pigs did run!" said Holly; "'spect, Miss Amy, they mistook you for a little broder!"

At this sally Sylvia laughed louder than ever; but perceiving my distress, she observed, in a kind tone: "Never mind, Miss Amy, we can't help laughing, you know--and you'll laugh too, when you git out of this here mess. But we do really feel sorry for you, for you look reel awful; I only hope old missus won't come in and ketch you."

But in a few moments the kind face of Aunt Henshaw looked into the scene of distress which the kitchen had now become, and surprise at my appearance rendered her almost speechless. But she soon recovered herself; and under her direction I was immersed in a tub of water, while my unfortunate clothes were consigned to the same fate. After this ceremony I was advised to go to bed; and thither I accordingly repaired, thinking how forlorn it was to fall into the pig-pen on such a beautiful evening.

The whole household seemed disposed to bear in mind that unfortunate occurrence; when about to fall into mischief, Aunt Henshaw would say in a peculiar tone: "Remember the pig-pen, Amy!" or, when troubling Sylvia, it would be; "I guess you learned that in the pig-pen, Miss Amy;" and even Holly took up the burden of the song, till I heartily wished that she had taken the plunge instead of myself. Before long they all discovered that I was very p.r.o.ne to such sc.r.a.pes; I dropped a very nice hat down the well, which, for fear of its spoiling the water, they spent a great deal of time in fishing up--I fell from the mow, but fortunately sustained no injury; and Sylvia one day caught me skimming off the cream--an amus.e.m.e.nt which I considered very innocent, but she speedily undeceived me.

CHAPTER XII.

Two or three weeks pa.s.sed on very pleasantly, and I began to think it time to write a letter home. I had made but little progress in the art, and letter-writing always appeared to me a great undertaking; but Aunt Henshaw, having one afternoon provided me with pen, ink, and paper, and elevated me nicely with the large Bible and my "Pilgrim's Progress," I sat biting the end of my quill, and pondering over some form of commencement. I had already written "dear mother" at the top; at length I added after considerable reflection:

"I am well, and hope that you are the same. It is very pleasant here. No more at present from

Your affectionate Daughter,

AMY."

Aunt Henshaw p.r.o.nounced this "very well--what was of it;" and Cousin Statia smiled, though I could not well why; but her smiles were so few and far between that they always set me a wondering. The letter was sealed, however, and enclosed in a larger one of Aunt Henshaw's, who probably gave a more detailed account of matters and things than I had given.

In the meantime, I was fast regaining the blooming, hoyden appearance most natural to me; and Aunt Henshaw continued to write glowing accounts of my improvement. In due time my scrawl was answered by a most affectionate letter from mamma, to which was added a postscript by my father; and I began to rise wonderfully in my own estimation, in consequence of having letters addressed entirely to myself. I even undertook to correct Sylvia for speaking ungrammatically, which made her very angry; and she took occasion to observe, that she had not lived so long in the world to be taught grammar by young ladies who fell into pig-pens. One great source of amus.e.m.e.nt at Henshaw's, was to watch Sylvia making cheeses. Sometimes she allowed me to make small ones, which I pressed with geranium leaves; but one day, being a little out of humor, she refused to let me have the rennet unless I could find it.--I searched through the kitchen and everywhere for it, and spent the whole morning in looking, till I almost despaired of finding it; but at length I pushed aside a tub, and there it was. This was one of Sylvia's peculiarities. She was an excellent servant, and having been a long time in the family, Aunt Henshaw allowed her to have pretty much her own way.

Sylvia was not wanting in sense, and often, when the old lady thought she had obtained the better of the dispute, she was, in reality, yielding to the sagacity of the colored woman. Holly was a sort of satellite, and evidently quite in awe of her superior; but Sylvia regarded her as the very quintescence of laziness, and always delighted to set her at some interminable job. It was much more to Holly's taste to look after the cows and pigs, and wander about the premises, than to wash dishes and peel potatoes; but she dared not resist the cook's authority.

One Sunday morning I was left at home, in consequence of not being well, with strict injunctions not to get into mischief; while Aunt Henshaw, Cousin Statia, and Sylvia went to church--the superintendence of the house being placed in Holly's charge. I settled myself by the parlor window with my "Pilgrim's Progress" and pursued the thread of Christian's adventures; while I glanced from time to time on the prospect without, while the hum of the locusts and lowing of the cows came borne upon my ear like pleasant sounds. I laid down my book to read a chapter in the Bible, and was enjoying a very pleasant frame of mind when the tempter came, in the shape of Holly, and beckoned me into the kitchen.

Nothing loath, I followed eagerly; and the colored girl proposed that we should have a small baking. The fire had been carefully put out in the kitchen, and we concluded to make one on bricks in the yard. After puffing and blowing with considerable energy, Holly kindled a flame; and we then concluded to mix up some gingerbread, and bake it in clam-sh.e.l.ls As I heard the monotonous hum of the bees, and remarked the stillness around, while everything seemed to speak of the Sabbath, my conscience reproached me; and I was several times on the point of turning back into the parlor, but I lacked sufficient courage to resist Holly's glowing descriptions of our gingerbread that was to be. The store-room closet was pretty dark, and Holly was obliged to go by guess-work in selecting her materials, but all seemed right; and in triumph we placed several clam-sh.e.l.ls of dough on the fire to bake. We worked very hard to keep up the flames, but the baking progressed slowly; and we dreaded to hear the sound of wheels that announced the return of the church-goers. It was done at last, and we sat down to enjoy the feast. I broke off a piece, and put it in my mouth, expecting to find a delicious morsel, but it had a very queer taste; and I saw that Holly was surveying it with an appearance of the greatest curiosity.

"What is the matter?" said I, "What have you done to it, Holly?"

"Well, I guess I've put in lime instead of flour," she replied.

It was but too true; and just then we heard the sound of wheels, and a vigorous lifting of the great bra.s.s knocker. Holly hurriedly cleared away all signs of our employment, and then opened the door; while I returned to my books, convinced that the poorest time to make gingerbread was on Sunday, and in the dark. But Aunt Henshaw discovered our proceedings through Sylvia, who complained that some one had dropped mola.s.ses in the lime; which she soon traced to Holly, and I was never left home again on Sunday, alone.

"Once," said Aunt Henshaw, when I had, as usual, solicited a story, "there was a report that the British were about to sack New London. The city was a scene of hurry and confusion. Carriages were driving hither and thither, laden with silver plate and other valuables, which the owners were glad to place in the hands of any respectable-looking stranger they met, for safe-keeping. Several pieces were placed in our carriage; among others a handsome silver tankard and half-a-dozen goblets, which were never reclaimed. I have always kept them to this day."

She showed me these articles, which were extremely rich and ma.s.sive, and the old lady always kept them carefully locked in a capacious side-board; never taking them out except to look at.

"Aunt Henshaw, did you ever see a lord?" I inquired.

"Plenty of them," was her reply, "lords were as thick as blackberries during the Revolution."

"How did they look?" said I.

"Very much like other people--and often pretty distressed."

I was then surprised at this information, but I have since learned better; for I have seen the House of Lords in England, and they are, for the most part, a common, uninteresting-looking a.s.sembly.

"There was a Lord Spencer," continued my aunt, "a very wild young man, who was constantly committing some prank or other--though always strictly honorable in repairing any damages he occasioned. He once, for mere sport, shot a fine colt, belonging to an old farmer, as he was quietly grazing in the field. Even his companions remonstrated with him, and endeavored to prevent the mischief; but he laid them a wager that he should not only escape punishment, but that he would even make the old farmer perfectly satisfied with his conduct. They accepted his bet, and anxious to see how he would extricate himself, they accompanied him to the residence of the old farmer.

"That is a very fine colt of yours," began the young lord, "I should like to purchase him."

"He is not for sale," replied the farmer, shortly.

"I suppose not," rejoined the visitor. "But what would you value him at in case any accident happened to him through the carelessness of others?

What sum would pay you for it?"

"A hundred dollars would cover his value," said the farmer, after some consideration, "but has any thing happened to him, that you ask these questions?"

"Yes," replied the lord, "I have unfortunately shot him--and here is two hundred dollars as an equivalent."

Lord Spencer won his wager, for the farmer had made at least a hundred dollars, and being extremely fond of money, he could not regret the loss of his colt. "This is a specimen, Amy, of what lords are; so do not go to forming any exalted notions of them, as of a superior race of beings. It was very cruel in Lord Spencer to shoot the poor animal--but it was honorable in him to make up the farmer's loss, for it doubled the amount of wages he gained; yet to sum up the proceeding, it was wrong--for besides killing an inoffensive animal, it did not belong to him."

Aunt Henshaw seldom failed to point out the right and wrong in her stories, for she feared that I would be carried away with whatever was most dazzling, and thus form erroneous impressions. It is an excellent maxim that "people should be just before they are generous;" and did all bear this in mind while admiring actions that often dazzle with a false glitter, they would a.s.sume a totally different appearance.

Every few days there was an inundation of different cousins who lived but a few miles distant; and then there was so much shaking of great rough hands, as I was presented--so many comments on my appearance, and comparison of each separate feature with each of my parents--that I grew almost afraid to look up under the many eyes that were bent upon me to detect resemblances to the Henshaws, Chesburys, or Farringtons--which last was my mother's maiden name. I became quite tired of telling people when I arrived, how long I intended to stay, and how many brothers and sisters I had. They were all very kind, though, and invited me so politely to come and see them that I quite wanted to go; and Aunt Henshaw promised to return their visits very soon, and bring me with her.

So one fine day we set forth on a visit to Cousin Ben's--a son of the identical Uncle Ben to whose house Cousin Statia walked with her two little brothers, on that cold November night. She pointed out the road as we pa.s.sed, showed me the very place where she had wrapped her own cloak around her brother, the spot where they stopped to rub their hands warm, and a cross-road which they came very near taking. The house was plain, but pleasantly situated; and as we drove up to the door, Cousin Ben, his wife, and two or three children about my own age, came out to meet us. There was very little reserve among these country cousins; and before long, I was on as good terms with my play-mates as though I had known them all my life. We raced out into the fields, and feasted on sugar-pears, which were then just ripe; and I found, to my surprise, that my female cousins were quite as expert at climbing trees as the boys. I began to feel deficient in accomplishments; but I was not sufficiently a hoyden to follow their example, and could only perform the part of an admiring spectator.

A very quiet-looking old horse was grazing near by, and my cousins proposed that we should have a ride. I surveyed the great tall animal with dismay, and was frightened at the idea of being perched on his back; but the boys lifted me up, and five of us were soon mounted, ready for a start. It was our intention to proceed in this triumphant manner to the woods to gather berries; but our proposed conductor evidently disapproved the projected excursion, for, with a sudden kick-up behind, he sent us all five rolling on the gra.s.s. My white frock was the sufferer as usual; and scarcely any evil that has befallen me since, ever affected me more than would the dreaded spot that always appeared in the most conspicuous place whenever I was dressed up. It was always the herald of speedy disgrace, either in the shape of being sent supperless to bed, or deprived of going out next day. Mammy was particularly severe on such occasions; it was provoking to be sure, after taking the pains to dress me nicely, to find all her work spoiled within the next fifteen minutes; but I did think it was not my fault, and wondered how it always happened. My new companions could not understand my distress in consequence of this accident; and with trembling steps I went in to Aunt Henshaw, expecting to be kept by her side for the rest of the day, and never brought out again.

What was my surprise when, after examining the spot, she said, in a tone which sounded like music in my ears: "Well child, you couldn't help it, and it is well you were not hurt. After all, white dresses are poor things for children to play in, and this is only fit for the wash-tub now. But this is not quite so bad as the pig-pen--eh, Amy?"

The color mounted quickly into my face at these last words, and gladly obeying her injunction to "go, play now," I bounded from the room; while Aunt Henshaw, I suppose, enlightened the company as to the meaning of her question, and my evident confusion. Oh, if people did but know the effect of kind words, especially when harshness is expected! I never enjoyed romping so much in all my life as on that afternoon; Aunt Henshaw had p.r.o.nounced my dress "fit only for the wash-tub," and I thought that before it proceeded thither, it might just as well be a little more soiled as not. So we rolled about on the gra.s.s, climbed over fences, and rambled through the woods without fear or restraint. With a light and happy heart I set out on the journey home, congratulating myself that I was not then to encounter the eagle eyes of Mammy.

Aunt Henshaw, though perfectly willing that I should enjoy myself at play, did not approve of my spending my whole time in idleness; and under her superintendence, I felt more disposed to work than I ever had before. With her a.s.sistance I completed several articles of dress for a sister of Sylvia's, who was very poor, and lived in a sort of hovel near by; and the indefatigable Holly having again discovered the kittens in some equally out-of-the-way place, I at last, with a great deal of difficulty, succeeded in manufacturing a warm suit of clothes for the winter wear of the prettiest one. Having equipped the kitten in its new habiliments, I carried it to Aunt Henshaw, as quite a triumph of art; but when I made my appearance, with the two little ears poking out of the bonnet, and the tail quite visible through a hole in the skirt which I had cut for it, Cousin Statia actually indulged in a hearty fit of laughter, while Aunt Henshaw appeared even more amused. She told me that nature had furnished it with a covering quite sufficient to protect it from the cold; but I thought that it must then be a great deal too warm in summer, and had just commenced fanning it, when she explained to me that the fur was a great deal thinner in summer than in winter. This satisfied me; and releasing the astonished kitten from its numerous wrappers, I presented them to Holly, and gave up all idea of furnishing it with a wardrobe.

CHAPTER XIII.

At Aunt Henshaw's, my pa.s.sion for rummaging drawers and boxes of knickknacks was abundantly gratified. The old lady fairly over-flowed with the milk of human kindness, and allowed me to put her things in disorder as often as I chose. There was an alb.u.m quilt, among her possessions, which I never grew tired of admiring. The pieces were all of an octagon shape, arranged in little circles of different colors; and in the centre of each circle was a piece of white muslin, on which was written in tiny characters the name of the person who had made the circle, and two lines of poetry. This alb.u.m quilt was a good many years old; and had been made by the ladies of the neighborhood, as a tribute of respect to Aunt Henshaw, on account of her many acts of bravery and presence of mind during the trying times of the Revolution.

The old lady was never weary of describing the grand quilting, which took place in an old stone barn on the premises; when they all came at one o'clock, and sitting down to work, scarcely spoke a word until six, when the quilt was triumphantly p.r.o.nounced to be completed; and taking it from the frame, they proceeded to arrange a large table, set out with strawberries and cream, dough-nuts, chickens, cider, and almost every incongruous eatable that could be mentioned. Washington was then President, and after drinking his health in cider, coffee, and tea, which last was then a very precious commodity, being served in cups exactly the size of a doll's set, they all in turn related stories or personal anecdotes of the great General, of whom Aunt Henshaw never spoke without the greatest reverence and enthusiasm. He died when I was very young, so that I never saw him; but I have visited his tomb, and his residence at Mount Vernon, and have also seen portraits of him that were p.r.o.nounced to be life-like by those who were intimately acquainted with him.

Aunt Henshaw had actually entertained La Fayette at her house for a whole night, and she showed me the very room he slept in; while Cousin Statia produced an alb.u.m in which he had written his name. I always experienced a burning desire to possess some memento of the distinguished men whose names are woven in the annals of our country; and seating myself at the table with the alb.u.m before me, I spent several hours in trying to copy the ill.u.s.trious autograph. But all my efforts were vain; I could produce nothing like it, and was obliged to return the book to its favored owner.