Half a Century | Page 2

LXIX. VISITORS
LXX. WOUNDED OFFICERS
LXXI. "NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP"
LXXII. MORE VICTIMS AND A CHANGE OF BASE
LXXIII. PRAYERS ENOUGH AND TO SPARE
LXXIV. GET OUT OF THE OLD THEATER
LXXV. TAKE BOAT AND SEE A SOCIAL PARTY
LXXVI. TAKE FINAL LEAVE OF FREDERICKSBURG
LXXVII. TRY TO GET UP A SOCIETY AND GET SICK

LXXVIII. AN EFFICIENT NURSE
LXXIX. TWO FREDERICKSBURG PATIENTS
LXXX. AM ENLIGHTENED
CONCLUSION

HALF A CENTURY.


CHAPTER I
.
I FIND LIFE.
Those soft pink circles which fell upon my face and hands, caught in
my hair, danced around my feet, and frolicked over the billowy waves
of bright, green grass--did I know they were apple blossoms? Did I
know it was an apple tree through which I looked up to the blue sky,
over which white clouds scudded away toward the great hills? Had I
slept and been awakened by the wind to find myself in the world?
It is probable that I had for some time been familiar with that tree, and
all my surroundings, for I had been breathing two and a half years, and
had made some progress in the art of reading and sewing, saying
catechism and prayers. I knew the gray kitten which walked away;
knew that the girl who brought it back and reproved me for not holding
it was Adaline, my nurse; knew that the young lady who stood near was
cousin Sarah Alexander, and that the girl to whom she gave directions
about putting bread into a brick oven was Big Jane; that I was Little
Jane, and that the white house across the common was Squire Horner's.
There was no surprise in anything save the loveliness of blossom and
tree; of the grass beneath and the sky above; and this first indelible
imprint on my memory seems to have found this inner something I call
me, as capable of reasoning as it has ever been.
While I sat and wondered, father came, took me in his loving arms and

carried me to mother's room, where she lay in a tent-bed, with blue
foliage and blue birds outlined on the white ground of the curtains, like
the apple-boughs on the blue and white sky. The cover was turned
down, and I was permitted to kiss a baby-sister, and warned to be good,
lest Mrs. Dampster, who had brought the baby, should come and take it
away. This autocrat was pointed out, as she sat in a gray dress, white
'kerchief and cap, and no other potentate has ever inspired me with
such reverential awe.
My second memory is of a "great awakening" to a sense of sin, and of
my lost and undone condition. On a warm summer day, while walking
alone on the common which lay between home and Squire Horner's
house, I was struck motionless by the thought that I had forgotten God.
It seemed probable, considering the total depravity of my nature, that I
had been thinking bad thoughts, and these I labored to recall, that I
might repent and plead with Divine mercy for forgiveness. But alas! I
could remember nothing save the crowning crime--forgetfulness of
God.
I seemed to stand outside, and see myself a mere mite, in a pink
sun-bonnet and white bib, the very chief of sinners, for the probability
was I had been thinking of that bonnet and bib. It was quite certain that
God knew my sin; and ah, the crushing horror that I could, by no
possibility conceal aught from the All-seeing Eye, while it was equally
impossible to win its approval. The Divine Law was so perfect that I
could not hope to meet its requirements--the Divine Law-giver so alert
that no sin could escape detection.
Under that cloud of doom the sunshine grew dark, and I did not dare to
move until a cheery voice called out something about my pretty bonnet,
and gave me a sense of companionship in this dreadful, dreadful world.
Rose, a large native African, had spoken to me from her place in Squire
Horner's kitchen, and I went home full of solemn resolves and sad
forebodings.
This is probably what evangelists would call my conversion, and it
came in my third summer. There was a fire in the grate when mother
showed Dr. Robt. Wilson, our family physician, a pair of wristbands
and collar I had stitched for father, and when they spoke of me as not
being three years old--but then I had in my mind the marks of that
"great awakening."

To me, no childhood was possible under the training this indicates, yet
in giving that training, my parents were loving and gentle as they were
faithful. Believing in the danger of eternal death, they could but guard
me from it, by the only means