John Seely Hart

“ The children looked serious, and Emma’s wistful eyes, lifted towards heaven, seemed to long for that region of glorious intuition, whither the beloved pastor of Aunt Patty’s youth was gone. Then the youngest begged her to tell them something more lively, as talking about death, and the coffin, and grave, made them melancholy such a rainy day.
“Here,” said Bessy, “is a beautiful pink and white muslin. The figure is a half open rosebud, with a delicate cluster of leaves. Who had a dress like this, Aunt Patty?” ”

“ The afternoon was drawing to a close, and still the rain came down in steady and persevering drops, every drop falling in a decided and obstinate way, as if conscious, though it might be ever so unwelcome, no one had a right to oppose its coming. A rainy day in midsummer is a glorious thing. The grass looks up so green and grateful under the life-giving moisture ”

“ Edmund went behind his mother’s chair, and putting his hands playfully over her ears, begged Aunt Patty to go on, and give her imagination full scope.
“And show us the wedding-dress, and tell us all about it,” said Bessy. “It is pleasanter to hear of mother’s wedding, than Parson Broomfield’s funeral.”
“But that’s the way, darling—a funeral and a wedding, a birth and a death, all mixed up, the world over. We must take things as they come, and be thankful for all. ”

“ The tree that stands alone by the wayside offers shelter and shade to the weary traveller. It was not created in vain, though no blossom nor fruit may hang upon its boughs. It gets its portion of the sunshine and dew, and the little birds come and nestle in its branches. ”

“ It consisted of broad shaded stripes, of an iron-gray colour, a very sober and ministerial-looking calico.
“Ah!” said Aunt Patty—the chords of memory wakened to music at the sight—“I remember the time when I first saw Parson Broomfield wear that banian. I was a little girl then, and my mother used to send me on errands here and there, in a little carriage, made purposely for me on account of my lameness. A boy used to draw me, in the same way that they do infants, and everybody stopped and said something to the poor lame girl. ”

“ No one ever thought of marrying me, for I was a lame, helpless, and homely girl, without a cent of money to make folks think one pretty, whether I was or not. I never dreamed of having sweethearts, but was thankful for friends, who were willing to bear with my infirmities, and provide for my comfort. ”