A Grandmothers Recollections | Page 6

and my great delight was to
superintend her operations, and be rewarded for good behavior with a
limited quantity of dough, which I manufactured into certain uncouth
images, called 'dough-nut babies.' Sometimes these beloved creations
of genius performed rather curious gymnastics on being placed in the
boiling grease--such as twisting on one side, throwing a limb entirely
over their heads, &c.; while not unfrequently a leg or an arm was found
missing when boiled to the requisite degree of hardness. But sometimes,
oh, sad to relate! my fingers committed such unheard-of depredations
in the large bowl or tray appropriated by my mother, that I was
sentenced to be tied in a high chair drawn close to her side, whence I
could quietly watch her proceedings without being able to assist her.
I know that our home was situated in a pleasant village which has long

since disappeared in the flourishing city; the house was of white brick,
three stories high, with rooms on each side of the front entrance. A
large and beautiful flower-garden was visible from the back windows;
and beyond this was a still larger fruit-garden, the gate of which was
generally locked, while a formidable row of nails with the points up,
repelled all attempts at climbing over the fence. The peaches, and
plums, apricots, nectarines, grapes, cherries, and apples were such as I
have seldom, if ever, seen since. My lather was wealthy, and my
earliest recollections are connected with large, handsomely-furnished
rooms, numerous servants, massive plate, and a constant succession of
dinner-parties and visitors. How often have I watched the servants as
they filled the decanters, rubbed the silver, and made other preparations
for company, while I drew comparisons between the lot of the favored
beings for whom these preparations were made, and my own, on being
condemned to the unvarying routine of the nursery. Childhood then
appeared to me a kind of penance which we were doomed to
undergo--a sort of imprisonment or chrysalis, which, like the butterfly,
left us in a fairy-like and beautiful existence. Little did I then dream of
the cares, and toils, and troubles from which that happy season is
exempt. My father realized in his own person, to the fullest extent, all
the traditionary legends of old English hospitality; he hated everything
like parsimony--delighted to see his table surrounded with visitors--and
in this was indulged to the extent of his wishes; for day after day
seemed to pass in our being put out of sight, where we could witness
the preparations going on for other people's entertainment.
The presiding goddess in our region of the house was a faithful and
attached old nurse, whom we all called 'Mammy.' Although sometimes
a little sharp, as was necessary to keep such wild spirits in order, the
old nurse was invariably kind, and even indulgent. It was well indeed
for us that she was so, for we were left almost entirely to her direction,
and saw very little of any one else. Mammy's everyday attire consisted
of a calico short-gown, with large figures, and a stuff petticoat, with a
cap whose huge ruffles stood up in all directions; made after a pattern
which I have never since beheld, and in which the crown formed the
principal feature. But this economical dress was not for want of means;
for Mammy's wardrobe boasted several silk gowns, and visitors seldom

stayed at the house without making her a present. On great occasions,
she approached our beau-ideal of an empress, by appearing in a black
silk dress lace collar, and gold repeater at her side. This particular dress
Mammy valued more highly than any of the others, for my father had
brought it to her, as a present, from Italy, and the pleasant
consciousness of being recollected in this manner by her master was
highly gratifying to the old nurse.
I was an only daughter, with several wild brothers, and I often thought
that Mammy displayed most unjust partiality. For instance, there was
Fred who never did anything right--upset his breakfast, dinner, and
tea--several times set the clothes-horse, containing the nursery
wardrobe, in a blaze--was forever getting lost, and, when sought for,
often found dangling from a three-story window, hanging on by two
fingers, and even one--who would scarcely have weighed a person's life
in the scale with a successful joke--and always had a finger, foot, or eye
bound up as the result of his hair-brained adventures. I really believe
that Mammy bestowed all a mother's affection on this wild, reckless
boy; he seldom missed an opportunity of being impertinent, and yet
Mammy invariably said that 'Fred had a saucy tongue, but a good
heart.' This good-heartedness probably consisted in drowning kittens,
worrying dogs, and throwing stones at every bird he saw. Fred always
had the warmest seat,