dy's Plot," as it
appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at
work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself.

I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the
depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart
as a part of each individual. There were strawberry beds and raspberry
rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergrass, long rows of corn with
trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and
young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care
reaching toward the overarching sky.

Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired. It was a happy sight,
and one that touched the heart, to see each one progressing
methodically day after day. They worked an hour before breakfast, and as
long as they pleased after supper. They took great comfort in "changing
works," as they called it; you would hear them say:

"Now, let's all go over to Joe's land this afternoon, and to John's
to-morrow;" and in this way they sowed and reaped together.

The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a
space of about twenty square rods for each.

This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care
of. Louis succeeded, of course, in the school. The building had cost
considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to
build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an
increase of pupils.

Louis said, when it was being built:

"I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and
for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many. Some
of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits
for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of
all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear
thoughts that feed us to-day. Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the
progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with
those of angels, for 'the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof.'
I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did. These
hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of
purity, and the vows here taken have absolved my soul. The little
things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall
live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own
hands the reins that fall from t