e _entree_ of my
grandmother's apartment, and even ventured to express our curiosity
respecting the contents of various trunks, parcels, and curious-looking
boxes. To children, there is no greater pleasure than being permitted to
look over and arrange the articles contained in certain carefully-locked
up drawers, unopened boxes, and old-fashioned chests; stray jewels from
broken rings--two or three beads of a necklace--a sleeve or breadth of
somebody's wedding dress--locks of hair--gifts of schoolgirl
friendships--and all those little mementoes of the past, that lie
neglected and forgotten till a search after some mislaid article brings
them again to our view, and excites a burst of feeling that causes us to
look sadly back upon the long vista of departed years, with their
withered hopes, never-realized expectations, and fresh, joyous tone,
seared by disappointment and worldly wisdom. The reward of patient toil
and deep-laid schemes yields not half the pleasure that did the little
Indian cabinet, (which always stood so provokingly locked, and just
within reach), when during a period of convalescence, we were permitted
to examine its recesses--when floods of sunlight danced upon the wall of
the darkened room towards the close of day, and every one seemed _so_
kind!

My grandmother indulged our curiosity to the utmost; now a pair of
diamond ear-pendants would appear among the soft folds of perfumed
cotton, and flash and glow with all the brilliancy of former days--now a
rich brocaded petticoat called up phantoms of the past, when ladies wore
high-heeled shoes, and waists of no size at all--and gentlemen felt
magnificently attired in powdered curls and cues, and as many ruffles as
would fill a modern dressing gown. There were also fairy slippers,
curiously embroidered, with neatly covered heels; and anxious to adorn
myself with these relics of the olden time I attempted to draw one on.
But like the renowned glass-slipper, it would fit none but the owner,
and I found myself in the same predicament as Cinderella's sisters. In
vain I tugged and pulled; the more I tried, the more it wouldn't go
on--and my grandmother remarked with a sigh, that "people's feet were
not as small as they were in old times." I panted with vexation; for I
had always been proud of my foot, and now put it forward that my
grandmother might see how small it was. But no well-timed compliment
soothed my irritated feelings; and more dissatisfied with mysel