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Walter Harland - Or, Memories of the Past by H. S. (Harriet S.) Caswell
page 38 of 137 (27%)
Weeks and days succeeded each other in rapid succession, till mellow
autumn with its many glories was upon the earth. It had been a very busy
season, and long since Uncle Nathan's capacious barns had been filled to
overflowing with their treasures of fragrant hay and golden grain. The
corn-house was filled with its yellow harvest, and the potatoes were
heaped high in the cellar. Each different sort had its separate bin, and
my memory is not sufficiently retentive to mention the numerous kinds of
potatoes by their proper name which I that autumn assisted in stowing
away in the old cellar; and potatoes were not the only good things to be
found there when the harvest was completed. The apples were of almost as
many different sorts as the potatoes, and their flavor was very tempting
to the fruit-loving appetite, and their red cheeks were just discernible
by the dim light, which came faintly through the narrow cellar-windows.
Large quantities of almost every species of garden vegetable were stowed
away, each in their respective place. The cattle and sheep had been
driven from the far-off pastures to enjoy for a season the "fall-feed,"
of the meadows. The bright-hued autumn leaves were cast to the ground by
every breeze which floated by; the migratory birds were beginning their
flight southward, while on every hand were visible indications of the
approach of winter. I had done my best during the busy season to render
myself useful, and by this time had become quite an important member of
the household, so much so that I one day heard uncle Nathan wonder "how
he ever got along without me." He had often hired boys before, but a
hired boy who merely works for wages is often very different from one
whose services are prompted by affection and gratitude. Aunt Lucinda
still seemed rather to distrust me and, although she said nothing,
I was too sharp-sighted to be ignorant of the scrutinizing watch she
maintained over my conduct. I did not, as many boys of my age would have
done, allow myself to cherish any resentment toward my aunt, on the
contrary I did every thing in my power to gain her goodwill; I never
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