A Grandmother's Recollections by Ella Rodman
page 87 of 135 (64%)
page 87 of 135 (64%)
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damage, except to turn things topsy turvy. They found nothing to suit
them, till spying a very good coat of Mr. Henshaw's, one of them coolly encased himself in it and they all walked off together." I watched them from the window, and perceiving that they had left the gate open, I called out after them: "Be kind enough to shut the gate, will you? I am afraid the pigs will get in." They stopped a moment, smiled, and then did as I requested. "Ah, Amy," said my aunt in conclusion, "the necessity of the times was a school that taught women far more of the realities of life than they learn now-a-days." Aunt Henshaw fell into a long revery; and a pair of eyes, which had been glimmering near the door for some time, suddenly disappeared, and I heard the retreating footsteps of Holly as she took her way to the kitchen. The little colored girl always kept her eyes and ears open, and never lost an opportunity to gain knowledge of any description. A great deal which she had stealthily learned was communicated to me during my stay; and I am sorry to say that I was more hurt than benefitted by the companionship. Aunt Henshaw, though kind, did not appear to me in the light of a playmate, and Cousin Statia seldom opened her lips--being too industrious to waste time in talking; so that, for want of more suitable company, I descended to the kitchen. The next morning, having obtained Aunt Henshaw's permission, I went out to feed the chickens; and having drawn them near the wood-pile, I confined my favors almost exclusively to a sober-looking hen and five little chickens. When the pan was empty, I conceived that I had well earned the right, and putting my hand down softly, I took up a cunning little thing and hugged it in delight. But a terrible flapping of wings sounded close to my ears--I could scarcely distinguish any thing--and dropping the chicken, I fell across the chopping-log. The old hen rushed |
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