a
stranger, took me in;" but it was probably necessary to break the
record in this, as in all other forms of human happiness.

Other magazines took their turn--the "Atlantic," I remember--in due
course; but I shared the general awe of this magazine at that time
prevailing in New England, and, having, possibly, more than my share
of personal pride, did not very early venture to intrude my little
risk upon that fearful lottery.

Perhaps this reserve was more natural because "Harper's" published
as fast as I could write; which is not saying much, to be sure, for I
have always been a slow worker. The first story of mine which appeared
in the "Atlantic" was a fictitious narrative of certain psychical
phenomena occurring in Connecticut, and known to me, at first hand,
to be authentic. I have yet to learn that the story attracted any
attention from anybody more disinterested than those few friends
of the sort who, in such cases, are wont to inquire, in tones more
freighted with wonder than admiration: "What! Has she got into the
'_Atlantic_'?"

The "Century" came in turn, when it came into being. To this
delightful magazine I have always been, and always hope to be, a
contributor.

[Illustration: THE HOUSE IN ANDOVER, MASSACHUSETTS, WHERE THE SCHOOL
CALLED "THE NUNNERY" WAS HELD.

From a photograph taken in 1864 by Geo. H. Leek, Lawrence,
Massachusetts.]

I read, with a kind of hopeless envy, histories and legends of people
of our craft who "do not write for money." It must be a pleasant
experience to be able to cultivate so delicate a class of motives for
the privilege of doing one's best to express one's thoughts to people
who care for them. Personally, I have yet to breathe the ether of such
a transcendent sphere. I am proud to say that I have always been a
working-woman, and always had to be; though I ought to add that I am
sure the proposal that my father's allowance to his daughter should
cease, did not come from the father.

When the first little story appeared in "Harper's Magazine," it
occurred to me, with a throb of pleasure greater than I supposed then
that life could hold, that I could take care of myself, and from that
day to this I have done so.

One hesitates a little, even in autobiography, about saying precisely
this. But when I remember the thousands of women who find it too easy
to be dependent on too heavily-weighted and too generous men,
one hesitates no longer to say anything that may help th