The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-05-30

and sent in box to my
first little mother
This is the same dress that l wore
hen,-light green calico ground, you
see, with a figure which is cross be-
tween a clover leaf and pansy, in
dark green and yellow, and little
black, peppery dots sprinkled here
and there all over it. Then my
head is cloth, and can't possibly
break; and my hair being painted
on, will never grow gray or drop
out, which is an immense advantage
when you are century old.
You should have seen little Lucy
Porter's face when she first looked at
me! She had wanted doll more
than anything else in the whole
world; and she had never had any pet
but wild kitten, which lived in the
barn, and was dreadfully hard to
catch. Lucy was sedate young
mother, with small, serious face,
dark eyes, and close cropped brown
hair, which wanted to curl. But
Lucy's papa was stern old gentle
man, who did not approve of curls;
and the ringlets as soon as they APP
. peared used to be shipped away with
a long pair of scissors by Madam
Porter, who was Lucy's mamma.
My little mother wore very plain
clothes, not a bit like what girls have
in these days. In winter che wore a
dress of bombazette or Scotch plaid
made with good, stout, plain waist
and skirt, no trimmings, no ruffles,
and no pretty things over the shout
ders. Outside the dress she wore a
bingham "tyer," or apron, very
straight and long and homely. Her
wooden stockings she knit herself, sit
ting up on winter evenings in a
straight backed chair to do just SO
much before she went to bed When
summertime came, she wore her
thick leather shoes without the
stockings. 1t was a great relief to
have the snow go; for, oh, the winter
chilblains! In those days there were
no such things as rubbers; and the
leather boots, though the children
all creased them from a great skillet
of fat in the woodshed, used to get
soaked with slush and frozen. Then
there would be such burning and
aching in the children's tees as
seemed really dreadful.
| used to think Lucy quite pretty,
when she went off on Sundays to
meeting in the old white meeting
house at the foot of the mountain,
her sober face peeping out from
under white cape-bonnet with a
blue ribbon round it. Papa Porter
never allowed dolls to be touched on
Sundays; and / used to lie all day in
my wooden crib. with a tiny patch,
work quilt over me. Every afternoon
she and her sisters had their sewing
lesson; and how carefully they were
taught Every stitch had to be taken
by the threads, and there were long,
long seams to be sewed up, sheets to
be turned and dish towels to be
hemmed and patchwork to sew for
quilts to go on the children's own
beds.
When the sewing time was over
came playtime. There was the cum
ningest corner behind the garden
hedge, where we all played ea,party.
Our set of dishes was real willow
ware china, blue and white; and the
little sisters were so careful that
hardly one of them was broken in my
day. If the girls had not been care
full, I'm afraid the dishes would have
been put away in the cupboard of
The great south parlor, which smelt
OF castor beans and sandalwood and
held things that couldn't be played
with. | remember that cupboard
we'll, for at last 10th dishes and
came to it when the girls grew too
old for us. That was when they be.
gan to be tall and grown up, and