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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
153
I
had
a
great
admiration
for
this
girl,
because
she
had
come
from
those
wilderness-regions.
The
scent
of
pine-woods
and
checkerberry-leaves
seemed
to
bang
about
her.
I
believe
I
liked
her
all
the
better
because
she
said
"daown"
and
"haow."
It
was
part
of
the
mountain-flavor.
I
tried,
on
my
part,
to
impress
her
with
stories
of
the
sea;
but
I
did
not
succeed
very
well.
Her
principal
comment
was,
"They
don't
think
much
of
sailors
up
aour
way."
And
I
received
the
impression,
from
her
and
others,
and
from
my
own
imagination,
that
rural
life
was
far
more
delightful
than
the
life
of
towns.
But
there
is
something
in
the
place
where
we
were
born
that
holds
us
always
by
the
heartstrings.
A
town
that
still
has
a
great
deal
of
the
country
in
it,
one
that
is
rich
in
beautiful
scenery
and
ancestral
associations,
is
almost
like
a
living
being,
with
a
body
and
a
soul.
We
speak
of
such
a
town,
if
our
birthplace,
as
of
a
mother,
and
think
of
ourselves
as
her
sons
and
daughters.
So
we
felt,
my
sisters
and
I,
about
our
dear
native
town
of
Beverly.
Its
miles
of
sea-border,
almost
every
sunny
cove
and
rocky
headland
of
which
was
a
part
of
some
near
relative's
homestead,
were
only
half
a
day's
journey
distant;
and
the
misty
ocean-spaces
beyond
still
widened
out
on
our
imagination
from
the
green
inland
landscape
around
us.
But
the
hills
sometimes
shut
us
in,
body
and
soul.
To
those
who
have
been
reared
by
the
sea
a
wide
horizon
is
a
necessity,
both
for
the
mind
and
for
the
eye.
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