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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
211
When
I
came
to
a
realization
of
what
I
was
leaving,
when
good-bys
had
to
be
said,
I
began
to
feel
very
sorrowful,
and
to
wish
it
was
not
to
be.
I
said
positively
that
I
should
soon
return,
but
underneath
my
protestations
I
was
afraid
that
I
might
not.
The
West
was
very
far
off
then,
a
full
week's
journey.
It
would
be
hard
getting
back.
Those
I
loved
might
die;
I
might
die
myself.
These
thoughts
passed
through
my
mind,
though
not
through
my
lips.
My
eyes
would
sometimes
tell
the
story,
however,
and
I
fancy
that
my
tearful
farewells
must
have
seemed
ridiculous
to
many
of
my
friends,
since
my
going
was
of
my
own
cheerful
choice.
The
last
meeting
of
the
Improvement
Circle
before
I
went
away
was
a
kind
of
surprise
party
to
me.
Several
original
poems
were
read,
addressed
to
me
personally.
I
am
afraid
that
I
received
it
all
in
a
dumb,
undemonstrative
way,
for
I
could
not
make
it
seem
real
that
I
was
the
person
meant,
or
that
I
was
going
away
at
all.
But
I
treasured
those
tributes
of
sympathy
afterwards,
under
the
strange,
spacious
skies
where
I
sometimes
felt
so
alone.
The
editors
of
the
"Offering"
left
with
me
a
testimonial
in
money,
accompanied
by
an
acknowledgment
of
my
contributions
during
several
years;
but
I
had
never
dreamed
of
pay,
and
did
not
know
how
to
look
upon
it
so.
I
took
it
gratefully,
however,
as
a
token
of
their
appreciation,
and
twenty
dollars
was
no
small
help
toward
my
outfit.
Friends
brought
me
books
and
other
keepsakes.
Our
minister,
gave
me
D'Aubigne's
"History
of
the
Reformation"
as
a
parting
gift.
It
was
quite
a
circumstance
to
be
"going
out
West."
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