a new england girlhood-第33部分

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and　at　my　new　work　I　had　hours　of　freedom　every　day。　I　never　went　back　again　to　the　bondage　of　machinery　and　a　working…day　thirteen　hours　long。

The　daughter　of　one　of　our　neighbors；　who　also　went　to　the　same　church　with　us；　told　me　of　a　vacant　place　in　the　cloth…room；　where　she　was；　which　I　gladly　secured。　This　was　a　low　brick　building　next　the　counting…　room；　and　a　little　apart　from　the　mills；　where　the　cloth　was　folded；　stamped；　and　baled　for　the　market。

There　were　only　half　a　dozen　girls　of　us；　who　measured　the　cloth；　and　kept　an　account　of　the　pieces　baled；　and　their　length　in　yards。　It　pleased　me　much　to　have　something　to　do　which　required　the　use　of　pen　and　ink；　and　I　think　there　must　be　a　good　many　scraps　of　verse　buried　among　the　blank　pages　of　those　old　account…books　of　that　found　their　way　there　during　the　frequent　half…hours　of　waiting　for　the　cloth　to　be　brought　in　from　the　mills。

The　only　machinery　in　the　room　was　a　hydraulic　arrangement　for　pressing　the　cloth　into　bales；　managed　by　two　or　three　men；　one　of　whom　was　quite　a　poet；　and　a　fine　singer　also。　His　hymns　were　frequently　in　request；　on　public　occasions。　He　lent　me　the　first　volume　of　Whittier's　poems　that　I　ever　saw。　It　was　a　small　book；　containing　mostly　Antislavery　pieces。　〃The　Yankee　Girl〃　was　one　of　them；　fully　to　appreciate　the　spirit　of　which；　it　is　necessary　to　have　been　a　workink…girl　in　slave…labor　times。　　New　England　Womanhood　crowned　Whittier　as　her　laureate　from　the　day　of　his　heroine's　spirited　response　to　the　slaveholder：

〃0；　could　ye　have　seen　herthat　pride　of　our　girls　Arise　and　cast　back　the　dark　wealth　of　her　curls；　With　a　scorn　in　her　eye　that　the　gazer　could　feel；　And　a　glance　like　the　sunshine　that　flashes　on　steel！

Go　back；　haughty　Southron！　　Go　back！　for　thy　gold　Is　red　with　the　blood　of　the　hearts　thou　hast　sold！〃

There　was　in　this　volume　another　poem　which　is　not　in　any　of　the　later　editions；　the　impression　of　which；　as　it　remains　to　me　in　broken　snatches；　is　very　beautiful。　It　began　with　the　lines

〃Bind　up　thy　tresses；　thou　beautiful　one；　Of　brown　in　the　shadow；　and　gold　in　the　sun。〃

It　was　a　refreshment　and　an　inspiration　to　look　into　this　book　between　my　long　rows　of　figures；　and　read　such　poems　as　〃The　Angel　of　Patience；〃　〃Follen；〃　〃Raphael；〃　and　that　wonderfully　rendered　〃Hymn〃　from　Lamartine；　that　used　to　whisper　itself　through　me　after　I　had　read　it；　like　the　echo　of　a　spirit's　voice：

〃When　the　Breath　Divine　is　flowing；　Zephyr…like　o'er　all　things　going；　And；　as　the　touch　of　viewless　fingers；　Softly　on　my　soul　it　lingers；　Open　to　a　breath　the　lightest；　Conscious　of　a　touch　the　slightest；

Then；　O　Father；　Thou　alone；　》From　the　shadow　of　thy　throne；　To　the　sighing　of　my　breast　And　its　rapture　answerest。〃

I　grew　so　familiar　with　this　volume　that　I　felt　acquainted　with　the　poet　long　before　I　met　him。　It　remained　in　my　desk…drawer　for　months。　I　thought　it　belonged　to　my　poetic　friend；　the　baler　of　cloth。　But　one　day　he　informed　me　that　it　was　a　borrowed　book；　he　thouht；　however；　he　should　claim　it　for　his　own；　now　that　he　had　kept　it　so　long。　Upon　which　remark　I　delivered　it　up　to　the　custody　of　his　own　conscience；　and　saw　it　no　more。

One　day；　towards　the　last　of　my　stay　at　Lowell　（I　never　changed　my　work…room　again）；　this　same　friendly　fellow…toiler　handed　me　a　poem　to　read；　which　some　one　had　sent　in　to　us　from　the　count…　ing…room；　with　the　penciled　comment；　〃Singularly　beautiful。〃　It　was　Poe's　〃Raven；〃　which　had　just　made　its　first　appearance　in　some　magazine。　It　seemed　like　an　apparition　in　literature；　indeed；　the　sensation　it　created　among　the　staid；　measured　lyrics　of　that　day；　with　its　flit　of　spectral　wings；　and　its　ghostly　refrain　of　〃Nevermore！〃　was　very　noticeable。　Poe　came　to　Lowell　to　live　awhile；　but　it　was　after　I　had　gone　away。

Our　national　poetry　was　at　this　time　just　beginning　to　be　well　known　and　appreciated。　Bryant　had　published　two　volumes；　and　every　school　child　was　familiar　with　his　〃Death　of　the　Flowers〃　and　〃God's　First　Temples。〃　Some　one　lent　me　the　〃Voices　of　the　Night；〃　the　only　collection　of　Longfellow's　verse　then　issued；　I　think。　　The　〃Footsteps　of　Angels〃　glided　at　once　into　my　memory；　and　took　possession　of　a　permanent　place　there；　with　its　tender　melody。　〃The　Last　Leaf〃　and　〃Old　Ironsides〃　were　favorites　with　everybody　who　read　poetry　at　all；　but　I　do　not　think　we　Lowell　girls　had　a　volume　of　Dr。　Holmes's　poems　at　that　time。

〃The　Lady's　Book〃　and　〃Graham's　Magazine〃　were　then　the　popular　periodicals；　and　the　mill…girls　took　them。　I　remember　that　the　〃nuggets〃　I　used　to　pick　out　of　one　or　the　other　of　them　when　I　was　quite　a　child　were　labeled　with　the　signature　of　Harriet　E。　Beecher。　〃Father　Morris；〃　and　〃Uncle　Tim；〃　and　others　of　the　delightful　〃May…Flower〃　snatches　first　appeared　in　this　way。　Irving's　〃Sketch…Book〃　all　reading　people　were　supposed　to　have　read；　and　I　recall　the　pleasure　it　was　to　me　when　one　of　my　sisters　came　into　possession　of　〃Knickerbocker's　History　of　New　York。〃　It　was　the　first　humorous　book；　as　well　as　the　first　history；　that　I　ever　cared　about。　And　I　was　pleased　enoughfor　I　was　a　little　girl　when　my　fondness　for　it　beganto　hear　our　minister　say　that　he　always　read　Diedrich　Knickerbocker　for　his　tired　Monday's　recreation。

We　were　allowed　to　have　books　in　the　cloth…room。　The　absence　of　machinery　permitted　that　privilege。　Our　superintendent；　who　was　a　man　of　culture　and　a　Christian　gentleman　of　the　Puritan…school；　dignifed　and　reserved；　used　often　to　stop　at　my　desk　in　his　daily　round　to　see　what　book　I　was　reading。　One　day　it　was　Mather's　〃Magnalia；〃　which　I　had　brought　from　the　public　library；　with　a　desire　to　know　something　of　the　early　history　of　New　England。　He　looked　a　little　surprised　at　the　archaeological　turn　my　mind　had　taken；　but　his　only　comment　was；　〃A　valuable　old　book　that。〃　It　was　a　satisfaction　to　have　a　superintendent　like　him；　whose　granite　principles；　emphasized　by　his　stately　figure　and　bearing；　made　him　a　tower　of　strength　in　the　church　and　in　the　community。　He　kept　a　silent；　kindly；　rigid　watch　over　the　corporation…life　of　which　he　was　the　head；　and　only　those　of　us　who　were　incidentally　admitted　to　his　confidence　knew　how　carefully　we　were　guarded。

We　had　occasional　glimpses　into　his　own　well…ordered　home…life；　at　social　gatherings。　His　little　daughter　was　in　my　infant　Sabbath…school　class　from　her　fourth　to　her　seventh　or　eighth　year。　She　sometimes　visited　me　at　my　work；　and　we　had　our　frolics　among　the　heaps　of　cloth；　as　if　we　were　both　children。　She　had　also　the　same　love　of　hymns　that　I　had　as　a　child；　and　she　would　sit　by　my　side　and　repeat　to　me　one　after　another　that　she　had　learned；　not　as　a　task；　but　because　of　her　delight　in　them。　One　of　my　sincerest　griefs　in　going　off　to　the　West　was　that　I　should　see　my　little　pupil　Mary　as　a　child　no　more。　When　I　came　back；　she　was　a　grown…up　young　woman。

My　friend　Anna；　who　had　procured　for　me　the　place　and　work　besideher　which　I　liked　so　much；　was　not　at　all　a　bookish　person；　but　we　had　perhaps　a　better　time　together　than　if　she　had　been。　She　was　one　who　found　the　happiness　of　her　life　in　doing　kindnesses　for　others；　and　in　helping　them　bear　their　burdens。　Family　reverses　had　brought　her；　with　her　mother　and　sisters；　to　Lowell；　and　this　was　one　strong　point　of　sympathy　between　my　own　family　and　hers。　It　was；　indeed；　a　bond　of　neighborly　union　between　a　great　many　households　in　the　young　manufacturing　city。　Anna's　manners　and　language　were　those　of　a　lady；　though　she　had　come　from　the　wilds　of　Maine；　somewhere　in　the　vicinity　of　Mount　Desert；　the　very　name　of　which　seemed　in　those　days　to　carry　one　into　a　wilderness　of　mountains　and　waves。　We　chatted　together　at　our　work　on　all　manner　of　subjects；　and　once　she　astonished　me　by　saying　confidentially；　in　a　low　tone；　〃Do　you　know；　I　am　thirty　years　old！〃　She　spoke　as　if　she　thought　the　fact　implied　something　serious。　My　surprise　was　that　she　should　have　taken　me　into　her　intimate　friendship　when　I　was　only　seventeen。　I　should　hardly　have　supposed　her　older　than　myself；　if　she　had　not　volunteered　the　information。

When　I　lifted　my　eyes　from　her　tall；　thin　figure　to　her　fair　face　and　somewhat　sad　blue　eyes；　I　saw　that　she　looked　a　little　worn；　but　I　knew　that　it　was　from　care　for　others；　strangers　as　well　as　her　own　relatives；　and　it　seemed　to　me　as　if　those　thirty　loving　years　were　her　rose…garland。　I　became　more　attached　to　her　than　ever。

What　a　foolish　dread　it　is；showing　unripeness　rather　than　youth；the　dread　of　growing　old！　For　how　can　a　life　be　beautified　more　than　by　its　beautiful　years？　A　living；　loving；　growing　spirit　can　never　be　old。　Emerson　says：

〃Spring　still　makes　spring　in　the　mind；　When　sixty　years　are　told；　〃

and　some　of　us　are　thankful　to　have　lived　long　enough　to　bear　witness　with　him　to　that　truth。

The　few　others　who　measured　cloth　with　us　were　nice；　bright　girls；　and　some　of　them　remarkably　pretty。　Our　work　and　the　room　itself　were　so　clean　that　in　summer　we　could　wear　fresh　muslin　dresses；　sometimes　white　ones；　without　fear　of　soiling　them。　This　slight　difference　of　apparel　and　our　fewer　work…hours　seemed　to　give　us　a　slight　advantage　over　the　toilers　in　the　mills　opposite；　and　we　oc