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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
88
My
brother's
vigilant
care
of
his
two
youngest
sisters
was
once
the
occasion
to
them
of
a
serious
fright.
My
grandfather--the
sexton--sometimes
trusted
him
to
toll
the
bell
for
a
funeral.
In
those
days
the
bell
was
tolled
for
everybody
who
died.
John
was
social,
and
did
not
like
to
go
up
into
the
belfry
and
stay
an
hour
or
so
alone,
and
as
my
grandfather
positively
forbade
him
to
take
any
other
boy
up
there,
he
one
day
got
permission
for
us
two
little
girls
to
go
with
him,
for
company.
We
had
to
climb
up
a
great
many
stairs,
and
the
last
flight
was
inclosed
by
a
rough
door
with
a
lock
inside,
which
he
was
charged
to
fasten,
so
that
no
mischievous
boys
should
follow.
It
was
strange
to
be
standing
up
there
in
the
air,
gazing
over
the
balcony-railing
down
into
the
street,
where
the
men
and
women
looked
so
small,
and
across
to
the
water
and
the
ships
in
the
east,
and
the
clouds
and
hills
in
the
west!
But
when
he
struck
the
tongue
against
the
great
bell,
close
to
our
ears,
it
was
more
than
we
were
prepared
for.
The
little
sister,
scarcely
three
years
old,
screamed
and
shrieked,--
"I
shall
be
stunned-ded!
I
shall
be
stunned-ded!"
I
do
not
know
where
she
had
picked
up
that
final
syllable,
but
it
made
her
terror
much
more
emphatic.
Still
the
great
waves
of
solemn
sound
went
eddying
on,
over
the
hills
and
over
the
sea,
and
we
had
to
hear
it
all,
though
we
stopped
our
ears
with
our
fingers.
It
was
an
immense
relief
to
us
when
the
last
stroke
of
the
passing-bell
was
struck,
and
John
said
we
could
go
down.
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