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.