Year: 1861

! was born and brought up in this little
village of Somehow, from which haze never
travelled 30 far as hundred miles. When
| was child, We lived on farm about a
mile from the church, but after my fathers
death, We moved into the little house where
l now live. My father was good man, bu,
he had in some way get into debt and i,
worried him until he died of a broken heart.
My mother was at first much cast down.
but being naturally Of a brave spirit, she soon
rallied. She sold the farm, and took small
house at the foot of Stony Hill and sent my
brother Willy to her brother, in Boston, who
had promised to find situation for him.


Our new house was small, but it had lit
tie garden behind it, and two great elms
| which stood before the door gave it pleas
ant look. 1t was just on the borders Of the
village, and an easy walk from the nesting
house.


AS We found ourselves quite poor after nv
fathers debts were paid, my mother took in
sewing, and We managed to get comfortably
through the first winter. In the spring, Miss
Colby, the school-teacher, was married, and
went away, and my mother urged me to ap-
ply for the school. was only seventeen,
but l was good scholar, and had always
liked study, and she thought | coulG teach AZ
we'll as Miss Colby, for Willy had not learned
half SO much from her, as he did when |
taught him at home. So mother went to the
minister's and spoke to him about it, and he
thought it good plan, and promised to use
his influence for me. In a day or two he
came to tell me that there was meeting of
the selectmen that morning, and | must be
present. | went with him, frightened enough,
but he was very kind, and made me feel at
ease sitter few minutes. Squire Lee asked
me great many questions, the others very
few, and then they said that they were salts
led that | was competent SO the next
Monday morning began life as school
teacher.


At first it was very hard for me, and |
would come home tired out BY degrees,
learned to manage the children, and when
the minister and Squire Lee came to visit
the school, they founG it much more orderly
than in Miss Colby's time, and praised me
for my good discipline. If | had no, been IA
bic to keep the school-room still, should
have given it up in despair, for above all
things | loved quiet. often sat for hours
together Al home, without saying a wo,G
for was not talkative. nor very cheerful
Among the girls of my own age | had no
friends; when with them | was moody and
unsociable, and for this they avoided me.
know now that all this was wrong, and that
cast away some Of the sweetest experiences
Of life in shutting up my heart to those who
might have learned to love me. did not dc
it consciously, for none of those around at
tracted me, and was too unattractive my
self, to induce any Of them to make any grea,
effort to gain my good will, and of this was
sometimes painfully conscious. was not SC
selt-suificient that did not long sometime,
with feeling Of agony for some sympathlz
ing friend, some one who would understand
me intutively, and love me in spite of nv
plain, sad face.


The hard work in the school-room wa.
good for me,f for it kept me from thinking too
much about myself; but soon became ac
customed to it, and it lost its arousins pew
er. After the novelty wore off, and | had &
regular routine of duties, began to sinh
back into myself again, to do my work me
chancally, and to speak and smile less thar
ever. Life seemed to me very drear,
thing.


Now and then, some rebellious boy o.
mischievous girl would raise an uproar il
the school this would excite me, and fo
some time would feel better, but only t.
sink back into my old lethargy again. The
children feared but did not love me. No
that l was severe, but repulsed them will
my indifference. did not try to win then


love, only tried to to teach them as we'll a
| could, not knowing that love is the bes
teacher.


had been teaching about two years whel
Deacon Brownly died. He was good ole


man, who kept the village store, and havin:


no family, had laid by quite sum of money


My mother felt very badly when the old dea


con died, for he had been very kind to her


often when we were sorely pinched, sendin,


US present of provisions, for his old friend


my fathers, sake We heard that he hat
left his store and all his property to his tw


nephews, to BE- divided between them as Ar


thur, the Oldest, thought best If he chos


to take the money, Charles must take tn


store, snd carry on the business, for he wish
ed that kept up; but if Arthur chose tn
store, Charles was to have the money. Thes
two nephews lived in Boston, and We 500
, heard that Arthur Brownly was to take hi
uncle's business, and Charles was to have tn
money. People said that Arthur was yer
foolish. for he might have established muc


more profitable business in Boston with hi
uncle's Legacy; but he had his own reasons
an presently made his appearance in the vi
. lage. He soon became great fayorite wit
s old and young, and all the girls were dt