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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
20
Another
adopted
aunt
lived
down-stairs
in
the
same
house.
This
one
was
a
sober
woman;
life
meant
business
to
her,
and
she
taught
me
to
sew
in
earnest,
with
a
knot
in
the
end
of
my
thread,
although
it
was
only
upon
clothing
for
my
ragchildren--absurd
creatures
of
my
own
invention,
limbless
and
destitute
of
features,
except
as
now
and
then
one
of
my
older
sisters
would,
upon
my
earnest
petition,
outline
a
face
for
one
of
them,
with
pen
and
ink.
I
loved
them,
nevertheless,
far
better
than
I
did
the
London
doll
that
lay
in
waxen
state
in
an
upper
drawer
at
home,--the
fine
lady
that
did
not
wish
to
be
played
with,
but
only
to
be
looked
at
and
admired.
This
latter
aunt
I
regarded
as
a
woman
of
great
possessions.
She
owned
the
land
beside
us
and
opposite
us.
Her
well
was
close
to
our
door,
a
well
of
the
coldest
and
clearest
water
I
ever
drank,
and
it
abundantly
supplied
the
whole
neighborhood.
The
hill
behind
her
house
was
our
general
playground;
and
I
supposed
she
owned
that,
too,
since
through
her
dooryard,
and
over
her
stone
wall,
was
our
permitted
thoroughfare
thither.
I
imagined
that
those
were
her
buttercups
that
we
gathered
when
we
got
over
the
wall,
and
held
under
each
other's
chin,
to
see,
by
the
reflection,
who
was
fond
of
butter;
and
surely
the
yellow
toadflax
(we
called
it
"lady's
slipper")
that
grew
in
the
rock-crevices
was
hers,
for
we
found
it
nowhere
else.
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