o visit her in
her own room, a neat little parlor in the neighborhood, whose
windows looked down a hillside on one hand, under the boughs of an
apple-orchard, where daisies and clover and bobolinks always
abounded in summer time; and on the other faced the street, with a
green yard flanked by one or two shady elms between them and the
street. No nun's cell was ever neater, no bee's cell ever more
compactly and carefully arranged; and to us, familiar with the
confusion of a great family of little ones, there was always something
inviting about its stillness, its perfect order, and the air of
thoughtful repose that breathed over it. She lived there in
perfect independence, doing, as it was her delight to do, every office
of life for herself. She was her own cook, her own parlor and
chamber maid, her own laundress; and very faultless the cooking,
washing, ironing, and care of her premises were. A slice of Aunt
Esther's gingerbread, one of Aunt Esther's cookies, had, we all
believed, certain magical properties such as belonged to no other
mortal mixture. Even a handful of walnuts that were brought from the
depths of her mysterious closet had virtues in our eyes such as no
other walnuts could approach. The little shelf of books that hung
suspended by cords against her wall was sacred in our regard; the
volumes were like no other books; and we supposed that she derived
from them those stores of knowledge on all subjects which she
unconsciously dispensed among us,--for she was always telling us
something of metals, or minerals, or gems, or plants, or animals,
which awakened our curiosity, stimulated our inquiries, and, above
all, led us to wonder where she had learned it all. Even the
slight restrictions which her neat habits imposed on our breezy and
turbulent natures seemed all quite graceful and becoming. It was
right, in our eyes, to cleanse our shoes on scraper and mat with
extra diligence, and then to place a couple of chips under the heels
of our boots when we essayed to dry our feet at her spotless
hearth. We marveled to see our own faces reflected in a thousand
smiles and winks from her bright brass andirons,--such andirons we
thought were seen on earth in no other place,--and a pair of radiant
brass candlesticks, that illustrated the mantelpiece, were viewed
with no less respect.

"Aunt Esther's cat was a model for all cats,--so sleek, so intelligent,
so decorous and well-trained, always occupying exactly her own c