"O, how pleasant it seems in here!" said Prudy; "when I come in I always
feel just like singing."

"Thee likes my clean fire," said grandma.

"But, grandma," said Dotty, "I should think you'd be lonesome 'thout
anybody but _you_."

"No, my dear; the room is always full."

"Full, grandma?"

"Yes; full of _memories_."

The children looked about; but they only two sunny windows; a table with
books on it, and a pair of gold fishes; a bed with snowy coverlet and
very high pillows; a green and white carpet; a mahogany bureau and
washing-stand; and then the bright fireplace, with a marble mantel, and a
pair of gilt bellows hanging on a brass nail.

It was a very neat and cheerful room; but they could not understand why
there should be any more memories in it than there were in any other part
of the house.

"We old people live very much in the past," said grandma Read. "Prudence,
if thee'll pick up this stitch for me, I will tell thee what I was
thinking of when thee and Alice came in."

So saying, she held out the little red mitten she was knitting, and at
the same time took the spectacles off her nose and offered them to