the world that it's worth
while being afraid of but sin. You can't be too much afraid of that.
It is a solemn thing to live in the world, especially such times as
these. But there's no good talking. Each one must learn for himself;
and it seems as though folks would need to live one life, just to teach
them how to live. I don't suppose there's any thing I could say to you
that would make much difference. Talk don't seem to amount to much, any
way."

"I am sure you must have seen a great deal in your life, Miss Bethia,
and might tell us a great many things to do us good," said Violet, but
she did not speak very enthusiastically, for she was not very fond of
Miss Bethia's good advice any more than her brothers; and little Jessie
got them happily out of the difficulty, by asking:

"What did you use to do when you were a little girl, Aunt Bethia?"

"Pretty much what other little girls did. We lived down in New
Hampshire, then, and what ever made father come away up here for, is
more than I can tell. I had a hard time after we came up here. I
helped father and the boys to clear up our farm. I used to burn brush,
and make sugar, and plant potatoes and corn, and spin and knit. I kept
school twenty-one seasons, off and on. I didn't know much, but a little
went a great way in those days. I used to teach six days in the week,
and make out a full week's spinning or weaving, as well. I was strong
and smart then, and ambitious to make a living and more. After a while,
my brothers moved out West, and I had to stay at home with father and
mother, and pretty soon mother died. I have been on the old place ever
since. It is ten years since father died. I've stayed there alone most
of the time since, and I suppose I shall till my time comes. And
children, I've found out that life don't amount to much, except as it is
spent as a time of preparation--and for the chance it gives you to do
good to your neighbours; and it ain't a great while since I knew that,
only as I heard folks say it. It ain't much I've done of it."

There was nothing said for a minute or two, and then Ned made them all
laugh by asking, gravely:

"Miss Bethia, are you very rich?"

Miss Bethia laughed, too.

"Why, yes; I suppose I may say I am rich. I've got all I shall ever
want to spend, and more, too. I've got all I want, and that's more than
most folks who are called rich can say. And I have earned all I've got.
But it ain't what one has g