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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
89
He
took
the
key
from
his
pocket
and
was
fitting
it
into
the
lock,
when
it
slipped,
beyond
our
reach.
Now
the
little
sister
cried
again,
and
would
not
be
pacified;
and
when
I
looked
up
and
caught
John's
blank,
dismayed
look,
I
began
to
feel
like
crying,
too.
The
question
went
swiftly
through
my
mind,--How
many
days
can
we
stay
up
here
without
starving
to
death?--for
I
really
thought
we
should
never
get
down
out
of
our
prison
in
the
air:
never
see
our
mother's
face
again.
But
my
brother's
wits
returned
to
him.
He
led
us
back
to
the
balcony,
and
shouted
over
the
railing
to
a
boy
in
the
street,
making
him
understand
that
he
must
go
and
inform
my
father
that
we
were
locked
into
the
belfry.
It
was
not
long
before
we
saw
both
him
and
my
grandfather
on
their
way
to
the
church.
They
came
up
to
the
little
door,
and
told
us
to
push
with
our
united
strength
against
it.
The
rusty
lock
soon
yielded,
and
how
good
it
was
to
look
into
those
two
beloved
human
faces
once
more!
But
we
little
girls
were
not
invited
to
join
my
brother
again
when
he
tolled
the
bell:
if
we
had
been,
I
think
we
should
have
promptly
declined
the
invitation.
Many
of
my
childish
misadventures
came
to
me
in
connection
with
my
little
sister,
who,
having
been
much
indulged,
too
it
for
granted
that
she
could
always
have
what
she
wanted.
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