It was a great treat for me to be taken by my uncle and aunt, for a little drive down the street, in this chaise, which rocked back and forth so softly that I always wondered how they kept awake in it till they got home. Perhaps they did not, but left everything to their steady old white pacer,—and safely enough, for "sober Sam," as we called him, always seemed to know that he was a minister's horse, and behaved accordingly. On the day of the visit, when my aunt had made the agreement with me in regard to the book, they let me go with them further than usual, allowed me to hold the reins, and even to touch up with the whip, the fat and lazy old pacer. So unused was he to such treatment, that, I remember, he stopped short, and looked round to see what was the matter.
I returned home through the bright sunset time, singing and skipping—took my Testament at once and read until after eight o'clock; only stopping to feed my kitten and put my dolls to bed.
From that time I daily and diligently studied my reading lessons in the New Testament. I preferred the stories of the miracles, and Christ's beautiful Sermon on the Mount, for practice—as the affecting part of the Gospels made me cry so hard that I could not read correctly.
Many and many were the bright hours during that summer, when I stayed in from play, that I might earn that new book. I denied myself frolics with Fido, I neglected the domestic affairs of my play-house, and let my dolls get shabby, all for the sake of my promised present.
At length, I found myself able to read whole chapters without making a single mistake—and my mother encouraged me to believe that I should certainly win the prize.
Finally, we heard that my aunt had returned from her visit to the east, and early one afternoon, we had the happiness to see the old white horse and chaise bringing my uncle and aunt up the road.
I, with the others, was very much delighted to welcome our visitors, but on my own account, rather nervous and excited to think that my trial was so near. Two or three times that afternoon, I stole out of the room to glance over my Bible lesson. I hardly know whether I most dreaded or longed to be called upon for my reading, and to have it over.
Soon after tea, my aunt sat down in a window seat, and called me to her side. Without many words, I took my little Testament from my pocket, opened at the fifth chapter of Matthew, and began reading very glibly,—"And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain, and"—
"Stop!" said my aunt, "you must not choose your own place to read—it's my business to do that!"