I.--Fears and Hopes 71

IX.--The New Faith 84

X.--Matthias Jones 95

XI.--The Teaching of Hosea Ballou 109

XII.--A Remedy for Wrong-talking 123

XIII.--Perplexities 137

XIV.--Louis returns 150

XV.--Emily finds peace 164

XVI.--Mary Harris 177

XVII.--Precious Thoughts 210

XVIII.--Emily's Marriage 226

XIX.--Married Life 240

XX.--Life Pictures and Life Work 254

XXI.--John Jones 274

XXII.--Clara leaves us 290

XXIII.--Aunt Hildy's Legacy 317

THE HARVEST OF YEARS

CHAPTER I.

"EMILY DID IT."

Among my earliest recollections these three words have a place, coming
to my ears as the presages of a reprimand. I had made a frantic effort
to lift my baby-brother from his cradle, and had succeeded only in
upsetting baby, pillows and all, waking my mother from her little nap,
while brother Hal stood by and shouted, "Emily did it." I was only five
years of age at that eventful period, and was as indignant at the
scolding I received when trying to do a magnanimous act, take care of
baby and let poor, tired mother sleep, as I have been many times since,
when, unluckily, I had upset somebody's dish, and "Emily did it" has
rung its hateful sound in my ears. To say I was unlucky was not enough;
I was untimely, unwarranted and unwanted, I often felt, in early years
in everything I attempted, and the naturally quick temper I possessed
was only aggravated and tortured into more harassing activity, rendering
me on the whole, perhaps, not very amiable. Interesting I could not be,
since whatever I attempted I seemed fated to say or do something to hurt
somebody's feelings, and, mortified at my failures, I would draw myself
closer to myself, shrinking from others, and saying again and again,
"Emily, why _must_ you do it?"

Introducing myself thus clouded to your sympathy, I cannot expect my
reader would be interested in a rehearsal of all my early trials.

You can imagine how it must have been as I marched along from childhood
through girlhood into womanhood, while I still clung to my strange ways
and peculiar sayings; upsetting