ere then
scarcely any children's books published, and consumed as I was by an
inordinate passion for reading, was determined to indulge it without
being very particular about the means. How often have I watched my
opportunity when my grandmother had left her apartment for an afternoon
visit or drive, and then drawn forth the cherished volume from beneath
the pillow and even from between the bed and sacking bottom! so
carefully were they concealed from view. Sometimes, indeed, she locked
the door of her room, and took the key with her; and then all ingress
was impossible.

What wild, foolish dreams I indulged in!--What romantic-visions of the
future that were never realized! How well I remember my sensations on
reading the "Scottish Chiefs." Wallace appeared to me almost in the
light of a god--so noble, so touching were all his acts and words, that
I even envied Helen Mar the privilege of calling herself his wife, and
then dying to lay her head in the same grave with him. I resolved to
give up all the common-place of life, and cling unto the spiritual--to
purify myself from every earth-born wish and habit, and live but in the
hope of meeting with a second Wallace. I persevered in this resolution
for a whole week; and then meeting with some equally delightful hero of
an opposite nature, I changed from grave to gay. My mood during these
periods of fascination was as variable as the different heroines I
admired. Now I would imitate the pensiveness of Amanda, and go about
with streaming tresses, and a softly modulated tone of voice--then I
would read of some sprightly heroine who changed all by her vivacity
and piquant sayings, and immediately commence springing down three
stairs at a time, teazing all the children, and making some reply to
everything that was said, which sometimes passed for wit but oftener for
impudence--and then again some noble, self-sacrificing character would
excite my admiration, and oh! how I longed for some opportunity to
signalize myself! A bullet aimed at some loved one, whom I could protect
by rushing forward and receiving it myself; but I was not to be killed,
only sufficiently wounded to make me appear interesting--disabled in the
arm, perhaps, without much suffering, for bodily pain never formed a
prominent feature in my ideas of the romantic and striking--I was too
great a coward; or else a plunge into the waves to rescue some drowning
person from perishing, when I wished just to come near en