"And my marm was the last wife but one. My father was a hundred years and one day when he died. I've outlived all the children, I guess, for I never hear from none of them—I most forget who's dead. Some of them was married before I was born. I was the youngest, and I never remember my own mother, but I had a good mother, all the same."
"You had four step-mothers before you were born," said Marjorie seriously, "and one own mother and then another step-mother. Girls don't have so many step-mothers nowadays."
"And our house was one story—a long house, with the eaves most touching the ground and big chimneys at both ends. It was full of folks."
"I should think so," interposed Marjorie.
"And Sunday nights we used to sing 'God of my childhood and my youth.'
Can you sing that? I wish you'd sing it to me. I forget what comes next."
"I never heard of it before; I wish you could remember it all, it's so pretty."
"Amzi used to sit next to me and sing—he was my twin brother—as loud and clear as a bell. And when he died they put this on his tombstone:
"'Come see ye place where I do lie
As you are now so once was I:
As I be now so you will be,
Prepare for death and follow me.'"
"Oh," shivered Marjorie, "I don't like it. I like a Bible verse better."
"Isn't that in the Bible?" she asked, angrily.