has been here all the week, making it up.
The buttons are gilt, and cost six dollars a dozen. A good many of the
neighbors have been in to see it. Those who live farther off will have a
chance to-morrow, when he goes to meeting.

* * * * *

_May 22._--Yesterday was the Sabbath, and Frederic wore his coat to
meeting. Aunt Bethiah took extra pains with his ruffles, so as to have
everything correspond. He had on his new boots, with tassels on the
tops, and they shone like glass bottles. He frizzed his front hair
himself. But I had to braid his cue, and tie on the bow. Blue becomes
him, on account of his fairness and his fresh color. I was never struck
before with the resemblance of brother and sister; only she is more
delicate looking.

She will be very proud of him. We all are, but try not to let it be
seen. Mammy is, for all she counselled him to fix his attention on the
discourse, and think only such thoughts as he would like to remember at
the day of judgment. As we walked out of the yard, I caught sight of her
twinkling black eyes over the window-curtain. Such a piece of work too
as she makes getting up out of her chair! How handsome and noble he
looked, fit for an emperor! Dreadful red, though, by the time we got sot
down in meeting; for our pew is a good way up, and his boots squeaked,
and we'd heard that all the singers were going early, to see him come
into meeting, and Lucy sits in the seats.

After sundown took a pleasant walk through the woods, over to the
schoolmaster's boarding-place, to carry back the two last books he lent
me,--the poems of Burns and of Henry Kirke White.

Aunt Bethiah found one of them amongst the hay, when she was hunting for
her setting-hen. She declares that reading is a dreadful waste of time,
and poetry-books are worse than all, and nothing but sing-song.

* * * * *

_May 26._--I wish I knew whether there was any merit in me or not. Most
people can tell, by the manners of others towards them. But I had such a
mean start! No matter how well people treat me, it all, in my
estimation, settles down to one thing,--"Poor'us."

It is either, "I will treat you well _because_ you came out of the
poor-house," or, "I will treat you well _notwithstanding_ you came from
the poor-house." Captain Welles tells me I can make myself just what I
want to be; but Aunt Bethiah says that is dreadful wicked doctrine, and
daddy rather agre