St. Landry democrat., 1886-01-16
MISS GOvE'S STORY.
How Eight Children We're Brought VI
by the NeighbOrhood.

was year and a half said the pretty
young school-teacher. She and two
of her oldest girls were having a little
chat together at noon.
'sWhy, who brought you up then9'
asked one Of them wonderingly.
The neighborhood.'
"Why, Miss Cove, what do you
mcan?' cried the girls together.
Just what say; the neighborhood
brought me up, and not only me, but
my two brothers and my five sisters
there were eight of us in all"
"But, how could the neighborhood
bring you up; l never heard of such a
thing
Nor l."
"Well, I'll tell you about it," said
Miss Cove, laughing, Il guess there'll
be time enough. You see, after father
died, mother had pretty hard time to
get along, but she was very smart,
coura geous woman, and she managed
to keep Us all comfortable. She owned
our little house. clear, and, with our
COW and hens and garden, we had
nearly enough to eat. Then she used
to leave the younger children in charge
of the older ones, and go out to do
days work for the neighbors. They
were good, honest, kind-hearted coun-
try people, who make the best neigh
bors in the world. She had a good
faculty about patching and mending,
and making our clothes last, and we
got along very we'll till she took cold
and died, very suddenly, of pneumonia.
Then the outlook was pretty bad.
There we were-eight of us, the oldest
only fourteen, with nothing in the
world but bit of a house, and cow
and a few hens, besides our little
patched garments.
There were no relatives living to do
anything for us; we were all alone. Of
course [ was COO young to remember
anything of this, but tell it as I heard
it afterward. People talked Of sending
us all, except my oldest sister, Annie,
and my Oldest brother, Frank, who.
they thought, might 60 to live in fami-
almshouse. We would be kept there
until we were able to work. [ don't
know how this plan came to be
changed, or which of those blessed,
good neighbors started the one which
was finally adopted.
''My very first recollection of any
thing of the whole matter is centered in
a sweet, pretty young girl, whose name
was Agnes Dean. But l did not know
her by that name at all; | always called
her mamma. That word, to this day,
is always associated in my mind with a
fair, slender young girl, with beautiful
yellow curls hanging down her back,
and the mildest, rosiest, sweetest face.
I can remember walking with her,
holding tight to her hand and looking
up at her. Long before that, they tell
me, she used to drag me about in
little carriage, and rock me and tend
me every minute she could get out of
school. She was my sister Annie's
friend. Poor Annie had everything she
could do to keep the house tidy, and
cook. She had nose wing or mending to
do One of the neighbors looked out for
each of us, and we were well and lastly
clad. Agnes Dean and her mother
made my little things. I can remember
some of them now; they were nicer
than my own poor mother could have
got me, / suppose. There was a little
pink cashmere hood, trimmed with
swansdown, which I had one winter,
and there was an embroidered blue
dress, too. / don't suppose all the
other children Jared quite as daintily as
[, perhaps. was the Youngest, and
that may have made some difference;
then the Deans were well-to-do people.
But all of us had enough. Then, every
week, the neighbors, by twos, took
turns in cooking for us. Each Satur-
day night great patches of cookies and
pies, loaves of bread and big piece of
roast meat, came to our house. They
lasted us over Sunday and far into the
week if we managed prudently, and we
were all well instructed in prudent
management by the neighbors. Per-
haps, on the whole, we received more
lasting benefit from their good advice
than we did from their nice food and
their warm dresses.
Il have heard a good deal about its
being poor plan for children to have
many masters, but it certainly worked
well in our case, and we are none Of us
any the worse for it. I suppose these
neighbors must have been actuated by
so much loving kindness and unselfish
charity that they made wise rules.
They all seemed to agree in them, too;
perhaps they consulted before making
them. One rule, which / remember,
was: three cookies per day, and no
more, for each child. Another was: to
take off our best things and hang them
up nicely in the closets, and put on our
old ones. when we came home from