The Story of My Life | Page 6

and shivered, indicating cold. My mother,
moreover, succeeded in making me understand a good deal. I always
knew when she wished me to bring her something, and I would run
upstairs or anywhere else she indicated. Indeed, I owe to her loving
wisdom all that was bright and good in my long night.
I understood a good deal of what was going on about me. At five I
learned to fold and put away the clean clothes when they were brought
in from the laundry, and I distinguished my own from the rest. I knew
by the way my mother and aunt dressed when they were going out, and
I invariably begged to go with them. I was always sent for when there
was company, and when the guests took their leave, I waved my hand
to them, I think with a vague remembrance of the meaning of the
gesture. One day some gentlemen called on my mother, and I felt the
shutting of the front door and other sounds that indicated their arrival.
On a sudden thought I ran upstairs before any one could stop me, to put
on my idea of a company dress. Standing before the mirror, as I had
seen others do, I anointed mine head with oil and covered my face
thickly with powder. Then I pinned a veil over my head so that it
covered my face and fell in folds down to my shoulders, and tied an
enormous bustle round my small waist, so that it dangled behind,
almost meeting the hem of my skirt. Thus attired I went down to help
entertain the company.
I do not remember when I first realized that I was different from other
people; but I knew it before my teacher came to me. I had noticed that
my mother and my friends did not use signs as I did when they wanted
anything done, but talked with their mouths. Sometimes I stood
between two persons who were conversing and touched their lips. I
could not understand, and was vexed. I moved my lips and gesticulated
frantically without result. This made me so angry at times that I kicked
and screamed until I was exhausted.
I think I knew when I was naughty, for I knew that it hurt Ella, my
nurse, to kick her, and when my fit of temper was over I had a feeling
akin to regret. But I cannot remember any instance in which this feeling

prevented me from repeating the naughtiness when I failed to get what
I wanted.
In those days a little coloured girl, Martha Washington, the child of our
cook, and Belle, an old setter, and a great hunter in her day, were my
constant companions. Martha Washington understood my signs, and I
seldom had any difficulty in making her do just as I wished. It pleased
me to domineer over her, and she generally submitted to my tyranny
rather than risk a hand-to-hand encounter. I was strong, active,
indifferent to consequences. I knew my own mind well enough and
always had my own way, even if I had to fight tooth and nail for it. We
spent a great deal of time in the kitchen, kneading dough balls, helping
make ice-cream, grinding coffee, quarreling over the cake-bowl, and
feeding the hens and turkeys that swarmed about the kitchen steps.
Many of them were so tame that they would eat from my hand and let
me feel them. One big gobbler snatched a tomato from me one day and
ran away with it. Inspired, perhaps, by Master Gobbler's success, we
carried off to the woodpile a cake which the cook had just frosted, and
ate every bit of it. I was quite ill afterward, and I wonder if retribution
also overtook the turkey.
The guinea-fowl likes to hide her nest in out-of-the-way places, and it
was one of my greatest delights to hunt for the eggs in the long grass. I
could not tell Martha Washington when I wanted to go egg-hunting, but
I would double my hands and put them on the ground, which meant
something round in the grass, and Martha always understood. When we
were fortunate enough to find a nest I never allowed her to carry the
eggs home, making her understand by emphatic signs that she might
fall and break them.
The sheds where the corn was stored, the stable where the horses were
kept, and the yard where the cows were milked morning and evening
were unfailing sources of interest to Martha and me. The milkers would
let me keep my hands on the cows while they milked, and I often got
well switched by the cow for my curiosity.
The making ready for Christmas was always a delight to me. Of course
I