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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
191
We
were
allowed
to
have
books
in
the
cloth-room.
The
absence
of
machinery
permitted
that
privilege.
Our
superintendent,
who
was
a
man
of
culture
and
a
Christian
gentleman
of
the
Puritan-school,
dignified
and
reserved,
used
often
to
stop
at
my
desk
in
his
daily
round
to
see
what
book
I
was
reading.
One
day
it
was
Mather's
"Magnalia,"
which
I
had
brought
from
the
public
library,
with
a
desire
to
know
something
of
the
early
history
of
New
England.
He
looked
a
little
surprised
at
the
archaeological
turn
my
mind
had
taken,
but
his
only
comment
was,
"A
valuable
old
book
that."
It
was
a
satisfaction
to
have
a
superintendent
like
him,
whose
granite
principles,
emphasized
by
his
stately
figure
and
bearing,
made
him
a
tower
of
strength
in
the
church
and
in
the
community.
He
kept
a
silent,
kindly,
rigid
watch
over
the
corporation-life
of
which
he
was
the
head;
and
only
those
of
us
who
were
incidentally
admitted
to
his
confidence
knew
how
carefully
we
were
guarded.
We
had
occasional
glimpses
into
his
own
well-ordered
home-life,
at
social
gatherings.
His
little
daughter
was
in
my
infant
Sabbath-school
class
from
her
fourth
to
her
seventh
or
eighth
year.
She
sometimes
visited
me
at
my
work,
and
we
had
our
frolics
among
the
heaps
of
cloth,
as
if
we
were
both
children.
She
had
also
the
same
love
of
hymns
that
I
had
as
a
child,
and
she
would
sit
by
my
side
and
repeat
to
me
one
after
another
that
she
had
learned,
not
as
a
task,
but
because
of
her
delight
in
them.
One
of
my
sincerest
griefs
in
going
off
to
the
West
was
that
I
should
see
my
little
pupil
Mary
as
a
child
no
more.
When
I
came
back,
she
was
a
grown-up
young
woman.
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