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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
124
I
listened
to
all
that
was
said
about
it,
very
much
fearing
that
I
should
not
be
permitted
to
do
the
coveted
work.
For
the
feeling
had
already
frequently
come
to
me,
that
I
was
the
one
too
many
in
the
overcrowded
family
nest.
Once,
before
we
left
our
old
home,
I
had
heard
a
neighbor
condoling
with
my
mother
because
there
were
so
many
of
us,
and
her
emphatic
reply
had
been
a
great
relief
to
my
mind:--
"There
is
isn't
one
more
than
I
want.
I
could
not
spare
a
single
one
of
my
children."
But
her
difficulties
were
increasing,
and
I
thought
it
would
be
a
pleasure
to
feel
that
I
was
not
a
trouble
or
burden
or
expense
to
anybody.
So
I
went
to
my
first
day's
work
in
the
mill
with
a
light
heart.
The
novelty
of
it
made
it
seem
easy,
and
it
really
was
not
hard,
just
to
change
the
bobbins
on
the
spinning-frames
every
three
quarters
of
an
hour
or
so,
with
half
a
dozen
other
little
girls
who
were
doing
the
same
thing.
When
I
came
back
at
night,
the
family
began
to
pity
me
for
my
long,
tiresome
day's
work,
but
I
laughed
and
said,--
"Why,
it
is
nothing
but
fun.
It
is
just
like
play."
And
for
a
little
while
it
was
only
a
new
amusement;
I
liked
it
better
than
going
to
school
and
"making
believe"
I
was
learning
when
I
was
not.
And
there
was
a
great
deal
of
play
mixed
with
it.
We
were
not
occupied
more
than
half
the
time.
The
intervals
were
spent
frolicking
around
around
the
spinning-frames,
teasing
and
talking
to
the
older
girls,
or
entertaining
ourselves
with
the
games
and
stories
in
a
corner,
or
exploring
with
the
overseer's
permission,
the
mysteries
of
the
the
carding-room,
the
dressing-room
and
the
weaving-room.
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