me to take it home. They were all going to Washington to the President's
ball--President Monroe, it was--and the trunk was packing. It was to go
on the big traveling-coach. When I ran up stairs and knocked,--I had
often been there before--she opened the door herself. 'Oh, it's you
Chrissy,' she said in her pleasant way; 'come in child; don't you want
to see something pretty?' And she showed me two elegant brocaded silk
gowns, very narrow and very short-waisted, but stiff enough to stand
alone.'

"She praised my work and said I was a good girl. Then she paid me the
money and tied a little blue silk handkerchief around my neck for a
keepsake. 'There,' she said, in her quick voice, 'you may go.' I did
many other patterns for the family, but poor lady! she never saw me
again. She had an illness and lost her eyesight. She was stone blind for
many years. I have the keepsake yet. It is put away in the hair-trunk."

The sisters were all in full sympathy, as usual. Thus I sat and listened
scores of times, making a pretence of wanting a pattern,--anything to
get Miss Chrissy story-telling.

In the centennial year I found "The Pears" much shaken from their even
tenor. The relic-hunters had penetrated their omnium gatherum and
offered fabulous sums for the quaint old bits they found there. One of
them declared he must and would have these wonders for the New England
Kitchen. But the sisters were outraged. Adroitly I managed to hint a
desire to see those treasures inestimable, and then for the first time I
moved from my accustomed seat, and they moved from theirs. The magnitude
of their wrongs would admit of nothing like routine or monotony. The
chairs were pushed back, and I saw five tall, slim figures standing
erect, in straight black gowns, white kerchiefs and spotless caps. They