A Grandmothers Recollections | Page 5

childhood, which cannot be
bought. "Things were not so and so when I was young," was a favorite
remark of hers; and as I one day remarked that "those must have been
wonderful times when old people were young," she smiled and said that
"though not wonderful, they were times when parents and teachers
were much more strict with children than they are now." I immediately
experienced a strong desire to be made acquainted with the
circumstances of my grandmother's childhood, and began hinting to
that effect.
"Were they very strict with you, grandmother?" asked we
mischievously.
She looked rather disconcerted for a moment, and then replied with a
smile: "Not very--I saw very little of my parents, being mostly left to
nurses and servants; but you all seem eager for information on that
point, and although there is absolutely nothing worth relating, you may
all come to my room this evening, and we will begin on the subject of
my younger days."
We swallowed tea rather hastily, and danced off in high glee to my
grandmother's apartment, ready for the unfolding of unheard-of
occurrences and mysteries.

CHAPTER III.
We were all happily seated around the fire; the grate was piled up high
with coal, and threw a bright reflection upon the polished
marble--everything was ready to begin, when a most unfortunate
question of my sister Emma's interfered with our progress. She had
settled herself on a low stool at my grandmother's feet, and while we all
sat in silent expectation of the "once upon a time," or "when I was
young," which is generally the prelude to similar narratives, Emma
suddenly started up, and fixing an incredulous gaze upon our dignified
relative, exclaimed: "But were you ever young, grandmother? I mean,"
she continued, a little frightened at her own temerity, "were you ever as
little as I am now?"
Some of us began to cough, others used their pocket-handkerchiefs, and
one and all waited in some anxiety for the effect. Emma, poor child!
seemed almost ready to sink through the floor under the many
astonished and reproving glances which she encountered; and my
grandmother's countenance at first betokened a gathering storm.
But in a few moments this cleared up; and ashamed of her momentary
anger at this childish question, she placed her hand kindly on Emma's
head as she replied: "Yes, Emma, quite as little as you are--and it is of
those very times that I am going to tell you. I shall not begin at the
beginning, but speak of whatever happens to enter my mind, and a
complete history of my childhood will probably furnish employment
for a great many evenings. But I am very much averse to interruptions,
and if you have any particular questions to ask, all inquiries must be
made before I commence."
"Were you born and did you live in America?" said I.
"Yes," replied my grandmother, "I was born and lived in America, in
the State of New York. So much for the locality--now, what next?"
"Did you ever see Washington?" inquired Bob, "And were you ever
taken prisoner and had your house burned by the British?"

Bob was a great patriot, and on Saturdays practised shooting in the attic
with a bow and arrow, to perfect himself against the time of his
attaining to man's estate, when he fully intended to collect an army and
make an invasion on England. As an earnest of his hostile intentions, he
had already broken all the windows on that floor, and nearly
extinguished the eye of Betty, the chambermaid. To both of these
questions my grandmother replied in the negative, for she happened to
come into the world just after the Revolution; but in answer to Bob's
look of disappointment, she promised to tell him something about it in
the course of her narrative.
"My two most prominent faults," said she, "were vanity and curiosity,
and these both led me into a great many scrapes, which I shall endeavor
to relate for your edification. I shall represent them just as they really
were, and if I do not make especial comments on each separate piece of
misconduct, it is because I leave you to judge for yourselves, by
placing them in their true light. I shall not tell you the year I was born
in," she continued, "for then there would be a counting on certain little
fingers to see how old grandmamma is now. When I was a child--a very
young one--I used to say that I remembered very well the day on which
I was born, for mother was down stairs frying dough-nuts. This
nondescript kind of cake was then much more fashionable for the
tea-table than it is at the present day. My mother was quite famous for
her skill in manufacturing them,