on
and talk and laugh for an hour, until she suddenly remembered, and sank
back again in her shawls and pains.

She knew a great deal. In fact, I recall now that she seemed to know
more than any woman I have ever been thrown with, and if she had not
been an old maid, I am bound to admit that her conversation would
have been the most entertaining I ever knew. She lived in a sort
of atmosphere of romance and literature; the old writers and their
characters were as real to her as we were, and she used to talk about
them to us whenever we would let her. Of course, when it came from an
old maid, it made a difference. She was not only easily the best French
scholar in our region, where the ladies all knew more or less of French,
but she was an excellent Latin scholar, which was much less common.
I have often lain down before the fire when I was learning my Latin
lesson, and read to her, line by line, Caesar or Ovid or Cicero, as the
book might be, and had her render it into English almost as fast as I
read. Indeed, I have even seen Horace read to her as she sat in the old
rocking-chair after one of her headaches, with her eyes bandaged, and
her head swathed in veils and shawls, and she would turn it into not
only proper English, but English with a glow and color and rhythm that
gave the very life of the odes. This was an exercise we boys all liked
and often engaged in--Frank, and Joe, and Doug, and I, and even old
Blinky--for, as she used to admit herself, she was always worrying us to
read to her (I believe I read all of Scott's novels to her). Of course
this translation helped us as well as gratified her. I do not remember
that she was ever too unwell to help us in this way except when she was
actually in bed. She was very fond of us boys, and was always ready to
take our side and to further our plans in any way whatever. We would get
her to steal off with us, and translate our Latin for us by the fire.
This, of course, made us rather fond of her. She was so much inclined to
take our part and to help us that I remember it used to be said of her
as a sort of reproach, "Cousin Fanny always sides with the boys." She
used to say it was because she knew how worthless women were. She would
say this sort of thing herself, but she was very touchy about women, and
never would allow any one else to say anything about them. She had
an old maid's temper. I remember that she took Doug up short once for
talking about "old maids". She sa