Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
1
222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
19
Besides
those
who
were
of
my
kindred,
I
had
several
aunts
by
courtesy,
or
rather
by
the
privilege
of
neighborhood,
who
seemed
to
belong
to
my
babyhood.
Indeed,
the
family
hearthstone
came
near
being
the
scene
of
a
tragedy
to
me,
through
the
blind
fondness
of
one
of
these.
The
adjective
is
literal.
This
dear
old
lady,
almost
sightless,
sitting
in
a
low
chair
far
in
the
chimney
corner,
where
she
had
been
placed
on
her
first
call
to
see
the
new
baby,
took
me
upon
her
lap,
and--so
they
say--unconsciously
let
me
slip
off
into
the
coals.
I
was
rescued
unsinged,
however,
and
it
was
one
of
the
earliest
accomplishments
of
my
infancy
to
thread
my
poor,
half-blind
Aunt
Stanley's
needles
for
her.
We
were
close
neighbors
and
gossips
until
my
fourth
year.
Many
an
hour
I
sat
by
her
side
drawing
a
needle
and
thread
through
a
bit
of
calico,
under
the
delusion
that
I
was
sewing,
while
she
repeated
all
sorts
of
juvenile
singsongs
of
which
her
memory
seemed
full,
for
my
entertainment.
There
used
to
be
a
legend
current
among
my
brothers
and
sisters
that
this
aunt
unwittingly
taught
me
to
use
a
reprehensible
word.
One
of
her
ditties
began
with
the
lines:--
"Miss
Lucy
was
a
charming
child;
She
never
said,
'I
won't.'"
After
bearing
this
once
or
twice,
the
willful
negative
was
continually
upon
my
lips;
doubtless
a
symptom
of
what
was
dormant
within--a
will
perhaps
not
quite
so
aggressive
as
it
was
obstinate.
But
she
meant
only
to
praise
me
and
please
me;
and
dearly
I
loved
to
stay
with
her
in
her
cozy
up-stairs
room
across
the
lane,
that
the
sun
looked
into
nearly
all
day.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
