r with his "Death of the Flowers" and "God's First
Temples." Some one lent me the "Voices of the Night," the only
collection of Longfellow's verse then issued, I think. The "Footsteps
of Angels" glided at once into my memory, and took possession of a
permanent place there, with its tender melody. "The Last Leaf" and "Old
Ironsides" were favorites with everybody who read poetry at all, but I
do not think we Lowell girls had a volume of Dr. Holmes's poems at that
time.

"The Lady's Book" and "Graham's Magazine" were then the popular
periodicals, and the mill-girls took them. I remember that the
"nuggets" I used to pick out of one or the other of them when I was
quite a child were labeled with the signature of Harriet E. Beecher.
"Father Morris," and "Uncle Tim," and others of the delightful
"May-Flower" snatches first appeared in this way. Irving's
"Sketch-Book" all reading people were supposed to have read, and I
recall the pleasure it was to me when one of my sisters came into
possession of "Knickerbocker's History of New York." It was the first
humorous book, as well as the first history, that I ever cared about.
And I was pleased enough--for I was a little girl when my fondness for
it began--to hear our minister say that he always read Diedrich
Knickerbocker for his tired Monday's recreation.

We were allowed to have books in the cloth-room. The absence of
machinery permitted that privilege. Our superintendent, who was a man
of culture and a Christian gentleman of the Puritan-school, dignified
and reserved, used often to stop at my desk in his daily round to see
what book I was reading. One day it was Mather's "Magnalia," which I
had brought from the public library, with a desire to know something of
the early history of New England. He looked a little surprised at the
archaeological turn my mind had taken, but his only comment was, "A
valuable old book that." It was a satisfaction to have a superintendent
like him, whose granite principles, emphasized by his stately figure
and bearing, made him a tower of strength in the church and in the
community. He kept a silent, kindly, rigid watch over the
corporation-life of which he was the head; and only those of us who
were incidentally admitted to his confidence knew how carefully we were
guarded.

We had occasional glimpses into his own well-ordered home-life, at
social gatherings. His little daughter was in my infant Sabbath-school
class from her fourth to her seven