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e stagedriver looked upon us as his especial charge； and we had a sense of personal property in the Salem and Lowell stagecoach； which had once； like a fairy…godmother's coach； rumbled down into our own little lane； taken possession of us； and carried us off to a new home。
My married sisters had families growing up about them； and they liked to have us younger ones come and help take care of their babies。 One of them sent for me just when the close air and long days' work were beginning to tell upon my health； and it was decided that I had better go。 The salt wind soon restored my strength； and those months of quiet family life were very good for me。
Like most young girls； I had a motherly fondness for little children； and my two baby…nephews were my pride and delight。 The older one had a delicate constitution； and there was a thoughtful； questioning look in his eyes； that seemed to gaze forward almost sadly； and foresee that be should never attain to manhood。 The younger； a plump； vigorous urchin； three or four months old； did； without doubt； 〃feel his life in every limb。〃 He was my especial charge； for his brother's clinging weakness gave him； the first…born； the place nearest his mother's heart。 The baby bore the family name； mine and his mother's； 〃our little Lark；〃 we sometimes called him； for his wide…awakeness and his merry…heartedness。（Alas！ neither of those beautiful boys grew up to be men！ One page of my home…memories is sadly written over with their elegy； the 〃Graves of a Household。〃 Father； mother； and four sons； an entire family； long since passed away from earthly sight。）
The tie between my lovely baby…nephew and myself became very close。 The first two years of a child's life are its most appealing years； and call out all the latent tenderness of the nature on which it leans for protection。 I think I should have missed one of the best educating influences of my youth； if I had not had the care of that baby for a year or more just as I entered my teens。 I was never so happy as when I held him in my arms； sleeping or waking； and he； happy anywhere； was always contented when he was with me。
I was as fond as ever of reading； and somehow I managed to combine baby and book。 Dickens's 〃Old Curiosity Shop〃 was just then coming out in a Philadelphia weekly paper； and I read it with the baby playing at my feet； or lying across my lap； in an unfinished room given up to sea…chests and coffee…bags and spicy foreign odors。 （My cherub's papa was a sea…captain； usually away on his African voyages。） Little Nell and her grandfather became as real to me as my darling charge； and if a tear from his nurse's eyes sometimes dropped upon his cheek as he slept； he was not saddened by it。 When he awoke he was irrepressible； clutching at my hair with his stout pink fists； and driving all dream…people effectually out of my head。 Like all babies； he was something of a tyrant； but that brief； sweet despotism ends only too soon。 I put him gratefully down； dimpled； chubby； and imperious； upon the list of my girlhood's teachers。
My sister had no domestic help besides mine； so I learned a good deal about general housework。 A girl's preparation for life was； in those days； considered quite imperfect； who had no practical knowledge of that kind。 We were taught； indeed； how to do every… thing that a woman might be called upon to do under any circumstances； for herself or for the household she lived in。 It was one of the advantages of the old simple way of living； that the young daughters of the house were； as a matter of course； instructed in all these things。 They acquired the habit of being ready for emergencies； and the family that required no outside assistance was delightfully independent。
A young woman would have been considered a very inefficient being who could not make and mend and wash and iron her own clothing； and get three regular meals and clear them away every day； besides keeping the house tidy； and doing any other needed neighborly service； such as sitting all night by a sick…bed。 To be 〃a good watcher〃 was considered one of the most important of womanly attainments。 People who lived side by side exchanged such services without waiting to be asked； and they seemed to be happiest of whom such kindnesses were most expected。
Every kind of work brings its own compensations and attractions。 I really began to like plain sewing； I enjoyed sitting down for a whole afternoon of it； fingers flying and thoughts flying faster still；the motion of the hands seeming to set the mind astir。 Such afternoons used to bring me throngs of poetic suggestions； particularly if I sat by an open window and could hear the wind blowing and a bird or two singing。 Nature is often very generous in opening her heart to those who must keep their hands employed。 Perhaps it is because she is always quietly at work herself； and so sympathizes with her busy human friends。 And possibly there is no needful occupation which is wholly unbeautiful。 The beauty of work depends upon the way we meet itwhether we arm ourselves each morning to attack it as an enemy that must be vanquished before night comes； or whether we open our eyes with the sunrise to welcome it as an approaching friend who will keep us delightful company all day； and who will make us feel； at evening； that the day was well worth its fatigues。
I found my practical experience of housekeeping and baby…tending very useful to me afterwards at the West； in my sister Emilie's family； when she was disabled by illness。 I think； indeed； that every item of real knowledge I ever acquired has come into use somewhere or somehow in the course of the years。 But these were not the things I had most wished to do。 The whole world of thought lay unexplored before me；a world of which I had already caught large and tempting glimpses； and I did not like to feel the horizon shutting me in； even to so pleasant a corner as this。 And the worst of it was that I was getting too easy and content… ed； too indifferent to the higher realities which my work and my thoughtful companions had kept keenly clear before me。 I felt my… self slipping into an inward apathy from which it was hard to rouse myself。 I could not let it go on so。 I must be where my life could expand。
It was hard to leave the dear little fellow I had taught to walk and to talk； but I knew he would not be inconsolable。 So I only said 〃I must go；〃and turned my back upon the sea； and my face to the banks of the Merrimack。
When I returned I found that I enjoyed even the familiar； unremitting clatter of the mill； because it indicated that something was going on。 I liked to feel the people around me； even those whom I did not know； as a wave may like to feel the surrounding waves urging it forward； with or against its own will。 I felt that I belonged to the world； that there was something for me to do in it； though I had not yet found out what。 Something to do； it might be very little； but still it would be my own work。 And then there was the better something which I had almost forgottento be！ Underneath my dull thoughts the old aspirations were smouldering； the old ideals rose and beckoned to me through the rekindling light。
It was always aspiration rather than ambition by which I felt myself stirred。 I did not care to outstrip others； and become what is called 〃distinguished；〃 were that a possibility； so much as I longed to answer the Voice that invited； ever receding； up to invisible heights； however unattainable they might seem。 I was conscious of a desire that others should feel something coming to them out of my life like the breath of flowers； the whisper of the winds； the warmth of the sunshine； and the depth of the sky。 That； I felt； did not require great gifts or a fine education。 We might all be that to each other。 And there was no opportunity for vanity or pride in receiving a beautiful influence； and giving it out again。
I do not suppose that I definitely thought all this； though I find that the verses I wrote for our two mill magazines at about this time often expressed these and similar longings。 They were vague； and they were too likely to dissipate themselves in mere dreams。 But our aspirations come to us from a source far beyond ourselves。 Happy are they who are 〃not disobedient unto the heavenly vision〃！
A girl of sixteen sees the world before her through rose…tinted mists； a blending of celestial colors and earthly exhalations； and she cannot separate their elements； if she would； they all belong to the landscape of her youth。 It is the mystery of the meeting horizons；the visible beauty seeking to lose and find itself in the Invisible。
In returning to my daily toil among workmates from the hill… country； the scenery to which they belonged became also a part of my life。 They brought the mountains with them； a new background and a new hope。 We shared an uneven path and homely occupations； but above us hung glorious summits never wholly out of sight。 Every blossom and every dewdrop at our feet was touched with some tint of that far…off splendor； and every pebble by the wayside was a messenger from the peak that our feet would stand upon by and by。
The true climber knows the delight of trusting his path； of following it without s