warmth: "If the Deacon's
wife has any thing to say to me upon the subject let her come and say
it, the sooner the better, and I'll ask her if she remembers the year
I was appointed as one of the collectors for the Foreign Missionary
Society, and when I called upon her, after she had complained for some
time of hard times and the numerous calls for money, put down her name
for twenty-five cents, and did not even pay that down, and I had to go
a second time for it; if she knows what's for the best she won't give
herself any further trouble as to how we spend our money." On the whole
I presume it was all the better that the Deacon's wife never called to
censure Aunt Lucinda for extravagance in spending money.
CHAPTER XIX.
The second year which I spent at Uncle Nathan's was one which I often
since called to mind as the happiest of my life. The days glided by in
the busy routine of school duties, and my evenings were spent in study
varied by social enjoyment. I was never too busy to respond to grandma's
request that I should leave my lessons or play for an hour and read to
her. I had learned to regard this aged relative with much affection;
even as a child I believe I was of a reflective cast of mind, and
Grandma Adams was the first very old person with whom I had been
intimately associated. And often as I sat by her side and watched the
firelight as it shone upon her silvery hair, and lighted up her
venerable and serene countenance, would I wonder mentally if I would
ever grow as old and feeble and my hair become as white as her's. I
remember one evening when I was indulging in these thoughts the old lady
asked me what I was thinking about that caused me to look so serious? "I
was wondering," replied I, "if I shall live to see as many years, and if
my eyes will become as dim and my air grow white as yours." "My dear
boy," she replied, "I suppose I seem to you like one who has travelled a
long journey. At your age, ten or twenty years seemed to me almost an
endless period of time, but now that I have seen more than eighty years
of life the whole journey seems very short, when taking a backward view
of the path over which I have travelled. It seems but as yesterday
since I was a little mischief-loving school girl, when my only anxiety
was how I could obtain the most play, and get along with the least
study. I used then often to think how glad I would be when my
school-days should be over; but how little did I then
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