th's Girlhood by an earl

elf before her Father's

Suffering. Literary Ta

" Opens a School.

tten before she left her mother's roof, have disappeared. But the following recollections by Mrs. M. C. H. Clark, of Portla

y age. Emily was Mrs. Prentiss herself. I remember her once telling me about the visit at "Aunt W.'s," and believe that nearly all the details of the story are founded in fact. It is her own picture of herself as a little girl, drawn to the life. Several traits of the character of Emily, as given in the sketch, are on this accou

e so glad to get all t

you to love me better than any other l

Anna; "I love you ten times as

y days her restless little heart w

rom Anna's. She had written, or rather scratched, the word "Anna," over one whole

nce, and Emily understood and felt the seriousness with which he examined her idle scrawls. It was a look that would have risen up before her and made her stay her hand, should she ever again in her life-long have been tempted thus to misus

ndness on her father's part did her more good than a month's lecture could have done, and made her resolve never to do anything that could possibly grieve him again. She went away to her own little baby-house and wrote on one of the bits of pap

endships, shows that she had begun to write verses when a mere child, an

d in the same classes. Our homes were near each other on Franklin street, and we always walked back and forth together. She was at this time a prolific writer of notes. Sometimes she would meet me on Monday morning with not less than four, written since we had parted on Saturday afternoon. She used to complain now and then, that I wrote her only one to four or five of hers to me. In the pleasa

me enjoy a view of the water and shipping, as the land sloped down toward the harbor. I remember well that one dark spring day, as we sat there cuddled up under the broad slab, Lizzy gave me an account of a book she had just been reading. It was the Memoir of Miss Susanna Anthony, by old Dr. Hopkins, of Newport. She told me what a good and holy woman Miss Anthony was, how much she suffered and how beautifully she bore her sufferings. My sympathy was stron

. To her I was indebted for my acquaintance with George Herbert, and with Wordsworth. She induced me to read "Owen on the 133d Psalm," and Flavel's "Fountain of Life." In 1834 we both began to attend the Free street Seminary, of which the Rev. Solomon Adams was then Principal. Her sister had become assistant teacher with him. Our desks adjoined each other and we were together a great deal. She was an admirable scholar, very studious, prompt and ready at recitation. Her influence and example, added to her friendship and sympathy, were invaluable to me at this period. One

th his English bride made a short visit at Mrs. Payson's. Miss Payson talked with him of Elizabeth's taste for writing poetry and showed him some of her pieces. He praised and encouraged her warmly, and this was, I think, one of the influences

by which her mother was often weighed down and worried, she was an ever-near friend and sympathizer. To her brothers, too, she end

call it "the pumpkin house," because it was old and ugly; but its situation and the opportunity to indulge her rural tastes made

for any other in the city. The situation is perfectly delightful. Casco Bay and part of Deering's Oaks lie in full view. [8] The Oaks are within a few minutes' walk. Back-Cove is seen beyond, and rising far above the blue White Mountains. The Arsenal stares us in the face, if we look out the end windows and the Westbrook meeting-house is nearer than Mr. Vail's by a quarter of a mile. I never believed there was anything half so fine in this region. I think nothing of walking anywhere now. One day, after various domestic duties, I worked in my tiny garden four hours, and in the afternoon a party of girls came up for me to go with them to

tor of the Episcopal church in Portland, and afterward Professor and Chaplain at West Point. He was a man of fine literary culture and Mrs. French was a very attractive woman.

ce-meat, apples, and the like, the stoning of raisins and washing of currants, the beating and baking of cake, and all the other ings, (in all of which I have had my share) thoughts of your ladyship have somehow squee

quite as wise as to entrust my scraps to your care. My mother often urges me to send little things which she happens to fancy, to this and that periodical. Without her interference nothing of mine would ever have found its way into print. But mammas look with rose-colored spectacles on the actions and performances of their offspring. Have you laughed over the Pickwick Papers? We have almost laughed ourselves to death over them. I have not seen Lizzy D. for a long time, but hear she is getting along rapidly. If I could go to school two years more, I should be glad, but of course that is out of the question.... It is easier for you to write often than it is for me. You have not three tearing, growing brothers to mend and ma

had a perfect passion for babies, and reveled in tending, kissing, and playing with them. Here are some pret

little ba

say

od-for-noth

nay

speak a s

say

elp their

nay

alk upon t

say

ven hold t

nay

little ba

say

made for

YEA!!

fitted up over the hall in this house, how nicely she kept it, and how happy she was in it. One of the windows looked out on a little flower garden and at the close of the long summer days

tle girls. It consisted at first of perhaps eight or ten, but their number increased until the house could scarcely hold them. She was a born teacher and her young pupils fairly idolized her. [10]

s, Mr. Hamlin invited persons seriously disposed to meet him for religious conversation. Elizabeth besought me, with all possible earnestness and affection, to "go to Mr. Hamlin's meeting." One day she came to see me a short time before the hour, saying that I was ever on her mind and in her prayers, that she had talked with Mr. Hamlin about me, nor would she leave me un

deed, the exclusive interest of the season was religious; our reading and conversation were religious; well-nigh the sole subject of thought was learning something new of our Saviour and His blessed service. All Lizzy's friends and several of her own family were rejoicing in hope. And she herself was radiant with joy. For a little while it seemed almost as if the shadows in the Christian path had fled away, and the crosses vanished out of sight. The winter and spr

volumes. I wonder that she did not preserve them as mementos of her childhood and youth. Perhaps bec

when the news came of her sudden death. But I can not feel that she was called to her rest too soon. She seemed to me singularly happy in all the relations of life; and then as an author, hers was an exceptional case of

December

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