A Grandmothers Recollections | Page 7

the most thickly-buttered bread and the largest
piece of pie. I remember one day on watching Mammy cut the pie, I
observed, as usual, that she reserved the largest piece.
"Who is that for?" I enquired, although perfectly aware of its intended
destination.
"O, no one in particular," replied Mammy.
"Well then" said I, "I believe I'll take it."
"There! there!" exclaimed Mammy, pointing her finger at me, "See the
greedy girl! Now you shall not have it, just for asking for it." The
disputed piece was immediately deposited on Fred's plate; and from
that day forth I gave up all hopes of the largest piece of pie.

O, that Fred was an imp! There was nothing in the shape of mischief,
which he would not do. If left to amuse the baby, he often amused
himself by tying a string to its toe, and every now and then giving it a
sudden pull. The child would cry, of course, and, on the approach of
any one, Master Fred sat looking as demure as possible, while trying to
keep his little brother quiet. The string would then be twitched again
for his own private edification; and it was sometime before the trick
was discovered. My brother Henry had at one time several little
chickens, of which he became very fond. Day after day he fed, admired,
and caressed them; and Fred, who never could bear to see others happy
long, began to revolve in his own mind certain plans respecting the
chickens. One by one they disappeared, until the number decreased
alarmingly; but no traces of them could be found. We were questioned,
but, as all denied the charge, the culprit remained undiscovered,
although strong suspicions rested on Fred. At last the indignant owner
came upon him one day, as he stood quietly watching the struggles of
two little chickens in a tub of water. Henry bitterly exclaimed against
this cruelty, but Fred innocently replied that "he had no hand in the
matter; he had thought, for some time, how much prettier they would
look swimming like ducks, and therefore tried to teach them--but the
foolish things persisted in walking along with their eyes shut, and so
got drowned."
But one of Fred's grand coup-d'oeils was the affair of the cherry-pie. In
those days ladies attended more to their household affairs than they do
at present; and my mother, an excellent housekeeper, was celebrated
for her pastry--cherry-pies in particular. It was the Fourth of July; the
boys were released from school, and roaming about in quest of
mischief as boys always are--and, as a rare thing, we had no company
that day, except my aunt, who had come from a distance on a visit to
my mother, while my father had gone to return one of the numerous
visits paid him. Cherry-pie was a standing dish at our house with which
to celebrate the Declaration of Independence. The servants had all gone
out for a holiday, no dinner was cooked, and the sole dependence was
on the cherry-pie.
They sat down to dinner, and I heard my mother say: "Now, sister

Berthy, I really hope you will enjoy this pie, for I bestowed extra pains
upon it, and placed it up in the bed-room pantry out of the boys' reach,
who are very apt to nibble off the edge of the crust. This time, I see,
they have not meddled with it."
The pie was cut; but alas! for the hollowness of human triumphs; the
knife met a wilderness of crust and vacancy, but no cherries. The
bed-room pantry had a window opening on a shed, and into that
window Fred, the scape-grace, had adroitly climbed, carefully lifted the
upper crust from the cherished pie, and abstracted all the cherries. My
mother locked him up, for punishment, but having unfortunately
selected a sort of store-room pantry, he made himself sick with
sweetmeats, broke all the jars he could lay hands on, and, finally,
discovering a pair of scissors, he worked at the lock, spoiled it, and let
himself out.
At one time, being rather short of cash, he helped himself to a
five-dollar bill from my mother's drawer; but even his conscience
scarcely resting under so heavy an embezzlement, he got it changed,
took half a dollar, and then put the rest back in the drawer. This
considerateness led to a discovery; they all knew that no one but Fred
would have been guilty of so foolish, and at the same time so dishonest
a thing.
My favorite brother was Henry; just three years older than myself,
manly, amiable, and intellectual in his tastes, he appeared to me
infinitely superior to any one I had ever seen; and we two were almost
inseparable. In winter he always carried me to school on