t Thanksgiving time, and she come
over from Skowhegan, where Reuben was settled pastor of his first
church. I shall never forget them two weeks to the last day of my life.
There was deep snow on the ground. I had that chamber there, with the
door opening into the setting-room. Mother and father Bascom kep' out in
the dining-room and kitchen, where the work was going on, and Lovey and
the baby and me had the front part of the house to ourselves, with Jot
coming in on tiptoe, heaping up wood in the fireplace so 't he 'most
roasted us out. He don't forget his chores in time o' sickness.

"I never took so much comfort in all my days. Jot got one of the
Billings girls to come over and help in the housework, so 't I could
lay easy 's long as I wanted to; and I never had such a rest before nor
since. There ain't any heaven in the book o' Revelations that 's any
better than them two weeks was. I used to lay quiet in my good feather
bed, fingering the pattern of my best crochet quilt, and looking at the
fire-light shining on Lovey and the baby. She 'd hardly leave him in the
cradle a minute. When I did n't want him in bed with me, she 'd have
him in her lap. Babies are common enough to most folks, but Lovey was
diff'rent. She 'd never had any experience with children, either, for we
was the youngest in our family; and it wa'n't long before we come near
being the oldest, too, for mother buried seven of us before she went
herself. Anyway, I never saw nobody else look as she done when she held
my baby. I don't mean nothing blasphemious when I say 't was for all the
world like your photograph of Mary, the mother of Jesus.

"The nights come in early, so it was 'most dark at four o'clock.
The little chamber was so peaceful! I could hear Jot rattling the
milk-pails, but I'd draw a deep breath o' comfort, for I knew the milk
would be strained and set away without my stepping foot to the floor.
Lovey used to set by the fire, with a tall candle on the light-stand
behind her, and a little white knit cape over her shoulders. She had the
pinkest cheeks, and the longest eyelashes, and a mouth like a little red
buttonhole; and when she bent over the baby, and sung to him,--though
his ears wa'n't open, I guess for his eyes wa'n't,--the tears o' joy
used to rain down my cheeks. It was pennyrial hymns she used to sing
mostly, and the one I remember best was

"'Daniel's wisdom may I know,
Stephen's faith and spirit show;
John's