this house for years. The bread is not like ours--it is
unleavened."

Grand'ther carried it into the church after she had cut it with a
sharp knife so that at the touch it would fall apart into square bits.
When the remains were brought back, I went to the closet, where they
were deposited, and took a piece of the bread, eating it reflectively,
to test its solemnizing powers. I felt none, and when Aunt Mercy
boiled the remnants with milk for a pudding, the sacred ideality of
the ceremony I had seen at church was destroyed for me.

Was it a pity that my life was not conducted on Nature's plan, who
shows us the beautiful, while she conceals the interior? We do not see
the roots of her roses, and she hides from us her skeletons.

November passed, with its Thanksgiving--the sole day of all the year
which grand'ther celebrated, by buying a goose for dinner, which goose
was stewed with rye dumplings, that slid over my plate like glass
balls. Sally and Ruth betook themselves to their farm, and hybernated.
December came, and with it a young woman named Caroline, to learn the
tailor's trade. Lively and pretty, she changed our atmosphere.
She broke the silence of the morning by singing the "Star-spangled
Banner," or the "Braes of Balquhither," and disturbed the monotony of
the evenings by making molasses candy, which grand'ther ate, and which
seemed to have a mollifying influence. Grand'ther kept his eye on
Caroline; but his eye had no disturbing effect. She had no perception
of his character; was fearless with him, and went contrary to all his
ideas, and he liked her for it. She even reproved him for keeping such
a long face. Her sewing, which was very bad, tried his patience so,
that if it had not been for her mother, who was a poor widow, he would
have given up the task of teaching her the trade. She said she knew
she couldn't learn it; what was the use of trying? She meant to go
West, and thought she might make a good home-missionary, as she did,
for she married a poor young man, who had forsaken the trade of a
cooper, to study for the ministry, and was helped off to Ohio by
the Society of Home Missions. She came to see me in Surrey ten years
afterward, a gaunt, hollow-eyed woman, of forbidding manners, and an
implacable faith in no rewards or punishments this side of the grave.

I suffered so from the cold that December that I informed mother of
the fact by letter. She wrote back:

"My child, have courage. One of these