"Aunt Lucinder (as every body calls her) is my sister, who keeps house for me. She's kinder partickler and fussy, and you must not mind if she does snap you up kinder short sometimes, 'tis her way you know; but never you fear, for with all her sharp speeches she has a kind heart, and her bark is a deal worse than her bite; and if you once gain her over for a friend, you'll have a firm one, depend upon that. Then there's mother, she lives with us, too, she's an old, old woman Walter, and we have all try to please her in everything, and of course you'll always be quiet and respectful-like to her. I have often before spoke of hiring a boy to do chores about the house, but Lucinder always said, 'all boys were good for was to make a noise and litter up the house,' but I guess you'll get along famously with her; she's an old maid you know, that is she never was married, and folks say that old maids are always kinder cross and crusty." Seeing my sober face as we drew nigh the house my uncle laughed, as he said in an encouraging tone, "Don't you be a grain scared, Walter, neither of them old wimmen will hurt you. I shouldn't a said a word, only I thought if I gave you a hint of Aunt Lucinder's queer ways you'd know better how to get along with her." I had always thought all women like my own mild-speaking mother and kind old Mrs. Judson, but by this time I began to think Aunt Lucinda must differ very widely from them; and when I followed Uncle Nathan into the clean wide kitchen where a bountiful supper awaited our arrival, I felt somehow as though I was stepping upon dangerous ground, and I almost feared to set my foot down lest it might chance to be in the wrong place. Aunt Lucinda, however, gave me a much more kindly welcome than I had feared, which I regarded as a favourable omen. She also introduced me to the notice of my aged grandmother who was seated in her deep arm-chair in the corner. She has seen more than eighty years of life, but as she sits there, day by day, in her quiet decrepitude, she still pretends to a superintendence of the labors of Aunt Lucinda in a way that might sometimes provoke a smile. She seems not to realize that my uncle and aunt are themselves middle aged gray-haired people, and still calls them her boy and girl. When made aware who I was my grandmother seemed delighted to see me, and talked long and affectionately of my mother whom she had not seen for many years. Aunt Lucinda was busily employed at the ironing-board, but looked often to see that her mother's wants were all supplied; nothing could exceed the affection and care she seemed to bestow upon her aged parent, indulging every whim, so that the old lady hardly can realize that she is old and almost helpless. We were soon seated at the supper table, and they all must have had the idea that I had brought with me from Elmwood a most unheard-of appetite, if I could judge by the quantities of food they insisted upon piling on my plate. Aunt Lucinda treated me with a good degree of kindness, but evidently kept a sharp eye to all my movements, doubtless expecting that in a short time I would break out in some flagrant misdemeanor, when she would be called to open hostilities. Poor Aunt Lucinda, you had little to fear from the homesick boy who sat in the purple twilight, leaning his elbows upon the window-sill, thinking of his now far-distant mother and sister, and his loved companion, Charley Gray. As I sat there a line of light in the eastern sky gradually became brighter, till the full round moon rose to view, bathing the whole scene in a flood of silver light. Seated thus, gazing over the moonlit landscape I began (with a mind beyond my years) to look far away into the future, and I made many resolves for my course of action in time to come. I wished to assist my uncle in doing up the "chores" for the night, but he would not hear of it. "You'll get work enough here," said he, "but you shall rest after your journey and you shall not lift a hand to-night." When work was over and the house quiet, Aunt Lucinda placed the large family Bible upon the table, preparatory to their evening worship. "Now won't it be nice, Lucinda," said Uncle Nathan, "we've got some one in the house that has good eyes, to read the chapter for us every night, it bothers me to read by lamplight, and I have often heard you call a word wrong if the light was the least mite dim." "My sight isn't so bad as it might be," replied my aunt who evidently did not relish this hint that she was not as young as she had been, but she readily consented that for the future I should read the Chapter from the Bible each evening. After reading we all kneeled and Uncle Nathan offered a simple but heartfelt prayer, in which he failed not to remember the poor boy, who kneeled by his side, as well as his distant friends. After prayers I was shown at once to the room which was to be mine during my stay, and very different it was from the one I occupied at Farmer Judson's. It was an airy, cheerful, looking apartment, furnished plainly, but with everything necessary to my comfort. When left alone my first act was to remove from my trunk the small Bible which was my mother's parting gift, with the request that I would allow no day to pass without reading at least one Chapter, alone. And I have no doubt the obeying my mother's parting injunction, made the slumber all the sweeter, which weighed down my eyelids almost as soon as my head pressed my pillow.
CHAPTER IX.
Before a week had passed away I made up my mind that I might have found a worse home than the old farm-house at Uncle Nathan's. Aunt Lucinda was not positively unkind to me, but I could not help a feeling of fear when in her presence, for she evidently regarded my every movement with a watchful eye, and looked upon my presence in the family as an infliction that must be borne; but with all this she was very careful for my comfort, and treated me in every respect as one of the family. Few would, at first sight, receive a favourable impression of my aunt. During the first few days of my residence in the family I used often to wonder to myself how two sisters could be so dissimilar in every way as were my mother and Aunt Lucinda. My mother's manner was very gentle, and her speech was mild and pleasant, while my Aunt had a sharp, quick manner of speech, and took the liberty upon all occasions of speaking her mind plainly. She was however a very clever house-keeper, always busy, and a large amount of work went every day through her hands. From the first moment I saw her I felt strongly attached to my venerable grandmother, who treated me with the greatest kindness and seemed never so happy as when, seated by her side, I read aloud to her from the large Bible which lay constantly within her reach. The personal appearance of Uncle Nathan was very pleasing; there was a mild good-humoured expression upon his countenance which at once told you he was not one at all inclined to fret or borrow trouble. This disposition to take the world easy often irritated my aunt, and she sometimes went so far as to say, "if she didn't stir up Nathan now and then, every thing would go to wreck and ruin about the place." Mindful of Uncle Nathan's advice I did my best to please my aunt, and endeavoured to win her affection by many little offices of kindness, as often as I had opportunity, but for some time my attempts to gain her goodwill produced but little effect. When I had been a few days an inmate with the family, I became an unwilling listener to a conversation which troubled me much at the time, although I have often since smiled at the recollection of it. I happened one day to be employed in the back kitchen, or what they termed the sink-room, and I soon became aware that I was the subject of conversation by the family in the room adjoining. "Now if that boy ain't the most splendid reader I ever did hear," said my kind old grandmother, "and I think, takin' all things into consideration it's a good thing Nathan sent for him; what do you say Lucinda?" "What I say is this," replied my aunt, "it don't do to judge folks, specially boys, by first appearances, and I shouldn't wonder a mite, for all his smooth ways and fine readin' if the fellow turns out a regular limb for mischief before he's been here a fortnight. I think Nathan Adams must have been out of his senses (if he ever had any to get out of) when he went and fetched a boy here to tear about and make a complete bedlam of the house. I had to work hard enough before, but with a boy of that age round the house to cut up capers and raise Cain generally, I don't know how we're to live at all." "Well, Lucinda," replied Grandma, "Nathan's been a good dutiful boy to me," (Uncle Nathan was past forty) "and if he took a notion to bring Ellen's boy here, I don't see as you ought to say a word against it. What if you'd a married Joshua Blake as you expected to, and he'd a died and left you with a boy to bring up and school, I guess you'd a been glad if Nathan or somebody else had offered to take him off your hands for a while." This reply from her mother, at once silenced Aunt Lucinda, and there was no more said upon the subject.
CHAPTER X.
Weeks and days succeeded each other in rapid succession, till mellow autumn with its many glories was upon the earth. It had been a very busy season, and long since Uncle Nathan's capacious barns had been filled to overflowing with their treasures of fragrant hay and golden grain. The corn-house was filled with its yellow harvest, and the potatoes were heaped high in the cellar. Each different sort had its separate bin, and my memory is not sufficiently retentive to mention the numerous kinds of potatoes by their proper name which I that autumn assisted in stowing away in the old cellar; and potatoes were not the only good things to be found there when the harvest was completed. The apples were of almost as many different sorts as the potatoes, and their flavor was very tempting to the fruit-loving appetite, and their red cheeks were just discernible by the dim light, which came faintly through the narrow cellar-windows. Large quantities of almost every species of garden vegetable were stowed away, each in their respective place. The cattle and sheep had been driven from the far-off pastures to enjoy for a season the "fall-feed," of the meadows. The bright-hued autumn leaves were cast to the ground by every breeze which floated by; the migratory birds were beginning their flight southward, while on every hand were visible indications of the approach of winter. I had done my best during the busy season to render myself useful, and by this time had become quite an important member of the household, so much so that I one day heard uncle Nathan wonder "how he ever got along without me." He had often hired boys before, but a hired boy who merely works for wages is often very different from one whose services are prompted by affection and gratitude. Aunt Lucinda still seemed rather to distrust me and, although she said nothing, I was too sharp-sighted to be ignorant of the scrutinizing watch she maintained over my conduct. I did not, as many boys of my age would have done, allow myself to cherish any resentment toward my aunt, on the contrary I did every thing in my power to gain her goodwill; I never allowed the water-pails to become empty; I split the kindlings for the morning fire; and, by the time I had been a few weeks in the family, my busy aunt found herself freed from many household tasks to which she had been accustomed for years, and, more than this, I invariably treated her with the utmost kindness and respect. It happened one evening that my aunt was suffering from one of the severe headaches to which she was often subject. After supper she was almost incapable of any exertion whatever. When it was nearly dark she suddenly remembered that the large weekly wash had not been brought in from the clothes' yard, and there was every appearance of approaching rain. "I don't know," said she in a desponding voice; "what will become of the clothes, but if they are all spoiled I can't bring them in, for my head aches as though it would split." It was with fear and trembling that I came forward, and offered to get the clothes-basket and bring in the clothes. She looked at me with astonishment, saying, "a pretty sight the clothes will be by the time you bring them in, and then the lines will be broken into fifty pieces; no, no, let them hang and take their chance in the rain; I can't any more than have to wash them all over again." "Please let me go, aunty," said I, "I will handle the clothes very carefully, and I certainly will not break the lines." Touched in spite of herself by my desire to assist her she gave me the basket, saying, "now do pray be careful and not destroy every thing you put your hands on," and again seated herself with a troubled countenance to await my return. She was often inclined to think that nothing could be done properly about the house which was not performed by her own hands. Her face did brighten a little when I appeared after a short time at the kitchen door, bearing the well-filled basket with its snow-white contents in a most wonderful state of preservation. It was not her habit to praise any one to their face, but, when I had left the room, she turned to Uncle Nathan and said "I do believe after all there is some good in that boy. I am afraid I have been a little too hard with him, but I've made up my mind if he behaves as well as he's done so far, that he shall have a friend in his Aunt Lucinda; he's the first boy that's ever been about the house that I could endure at all, and I do believe he means well, and does his best to please us, and that's more than can be said of most boys."
The busy season was over at last, and the harvest all gathered in; on the following Monday I was to enter as a pupil at Fulton Academy. I had long anxiously looked forward to this day, and now that it was so near, I grew restless with expectation. I spent the Saturday afternoon roaming among the old woods which skirted the farm on one side, and seated by turns at the roots of some of the fine old trees, whose covering of many-hued leaves had long since fallen to the ground, my thoughts wove themselves into many bright forms, and many a purpose for good was matured in my mind. I dreamed of a time when, by the unaided exertions of manhood I would purchase ease and relaxation for my patient mother and loving sister, and next to those of my own household I breathed a wish for the happiness of the loved companion of my childhood Charley Gray.