as grown people ate and would be very nice for us. So we fell to and
devoured the whole, and I recollect being somewhat disappointed in the
odd sweetish taste, and thinking that onions were not so nice as I had
supposed. Then mother's serene face appeared at the nursery door and
we all ran towards her, telling with one voice of our discovery and
achievement. We had found a bag of onions and had eaten them all up.

"Also I remember that there was not even a momentary expression of
impatience, but that she sat down and said, 'My dear children, what
you have done makes mamma very sorry. Those were not onions but roots
of beautiful flowers, and if you had let them alone we should have
next summer in the garden great beautiful red and yellow flowers such
as you never saw.' I remember how drooping and dispirited we all grew
at this picture, and how sadly we regarded the empty paper bag.

"Then I have a recollection of her reading aloud to the children Miss
Edgeworth's 'Frank,' which had just come out, I believe, and was
exciting a good deal of attention among the educational circles of
Litchfield. After that came a time when every one said she was sick,
and I used to be permitted to go once a day into her room, where she
sat bolstered up in bed. I have a vision of a very fair face with a
bright red spot on each cheek and her quiet smile. I remember dreaming
one night that mamma had got well, and of waking with loud transports
of joy that were hushed down by some one who came into the room. My
dream was indeed a true one. She was forever well.

"Then came the funeral. Henry was too little to go. I can see his
golden curls and little black frock as he frolicked in the sun like a
kitten, full of ignorant joy.