. Then the wind would howl and moan through the leafless trees
and the river would beat against the rocks in a most mournful cadence.
To this day I can remember the effect it had on my youthful mind, and
whenever I hear the wind whistling at night, it always recalls, to my
memory my birth place.

My father was a stern, austere man, usually very silent and reserved. I
only remembered seeing him excited once or twice. My mother had died in
my infancy--(I was but fifteen months at the time) and my father's
sister became his housekeeper. I had but one brother a year older than
myself. How well I remember him, a fine noble-hearted boy full of love
and affection. We were neglected by our father and aunt, and left to
get through our childhood's days as best we could. We would wander
together hand in hand by the river side or in the woods, and often cry
ourselves to sleep in each other's arms at our father's want of
affection for us. We enjoyed none of the gayeties, none of the sports
of youth. The chill of our home appeared to follow us wherever we went,
and no matter how brightly the sun shone, it could not dissipate the
chill around our hearts. I never remember seeing my father even smile.
A continual gloom hung over him, and he usually kept himself locked in
his room except at meal times.

This life continued until I was ten years of age, when one day my
father informed me that the next day I was to go to Philadelphia to a
boarding school. At first I was glad to hear it, for any change from
the dull monotony of that solitary house must be an agreeable one to
me. I ran to the garden to tell my brother; but the moment I mentioned
it, Harry threw himself sobbing in my arms.

"Will you leave me, Kate!" he exclaimed, "What will I do when you are
gone, I shall be so lonely--so very lonely without you?"

"But Harry, darling," I returned, "I shall be back again in a few
months, and then I shall have so much to tell you, and we shall have
such nice walks together."

I succeeded in calming him, especially as our father informed him
before the day was over that he too was to go to a boarding school in
the city of Baltimore. That evening we took our last ramble together
before we left home. It was the month of June, and all nature was
decked in her gayest apparel. It was a beautiful moon-light night, and
the hair [sic] was fragrant with the odor of June roses, of which there
were a large number in the garden. We wandered by the si