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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
30
His
words
sounded
as
if
he
meant
them.
I
took
it
all
in
earnest,
and
ran,
scared
and
screaming,
to
my
father,
dashing
down
the
sugar-plums
I
wanted
so
much,
and
refusing
even
to
bestow
a
glance
upon
my
amused
purchaser.
My
father
pacified
me
by
taking
me
on
his
shoulders
and
carrying
me
"pickaback"
up
and
down
the
shop,
and
I
clung
to
him
in
the
happy
consciousness
that
I
belonged
to
him,
and
that
he
would
not
let
anybody
else
have
me;
though
I
did
not
feel
quite
easy
until
Captain
Cross
disappeared.
I
suppose
that
this
little
incident
has
always
remained
in
my
memory
because
it
then
for
the
first
time
became
a
fact
in
my
consciousness
that
my
father
really
loved
me
as
I
loved
him.
He
was
not
at
all
a
demonstrative
man,
and
any
petting
that
he
gave
us
children
could
not
fail
to
make
a
permanent
impression.
I
think
that
must
have
been
also
the
last
special
attention
I
received
from
him,
for
a
little
sister
appeared
soon
after,
whose
coming
was
announced
to
me
with
the
accompaniment
of
certain
mysterious
hints
about
my
nose
being
out
of
joint.
I
examined
that
feature
carefully
in
the
looking
glass,
but
could
not
discover
anything
usual
about
it.
It
was
quite
beyond
me
to
imagine
that
our
innocent
little
baby
could
have
anything
to
do
with
the
possible
disfigurement
of
my
face,
but
she
did
absorb
the
fondness
of
the
whole
family,
myself
included,
and
she
became
my
father's
playmate
and
darling,
the
very
apple
of
his
eye.
I
used
sometimes
to
wish
I
were
a
baby
too,
so
that
he
would
notice
me,
but
gradually
I
accepted
the
situation.
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