ng's Chapel burial ground._

_We know little of the last years of Anna Green Winslow's life.
A journal written by her mother in 1773 during their life in
Marshfield is now owned by Miss Sarah Thomas of Marshfield, Mass.
It is filled chiefly with pious sermon notes and religious thoughts,
and sad and anxious reflections over absent loved ones, one of whom
(in the sentimental fashion of the times) she calls "my Myron"--her
husband._

_Through this journal we see "Nanny Green's" simple and monotonous
daily life; her little tea-drinkings; her spinning and reeling and
knitting; her frequent catechisings, her country walks. We find her
mother's testimony to the "appearance of reason that is in my
children and for the readiness with which they seem to learn what is
taught them." And though she repeatedly thanks God for living in a
warm house, she notes that "my bason of water froze on the hearth
with as good a fire as we could make in the chimney." This rigor of
climate and discomfort of residence, and Anna's evident delicacy
shown through the records of her fainting, account for her failing
health. The last definite glimpse which we have of our gentle little
Nanny is in the shape of a letter written to her by "Aunt Deming."
It is dated Boston, April 21, 1779, and is so characteristic of the
day and so amusing also that I quote it in full._

_Dear Neice_,

_I receivd your favor of 6th instant by nephew Jack, who with the
Col. his trav'ling companion, perform'd an easy journey from you to
us, and arriv'd before sunset. I thank you for the beads, the wire,
and the beugles, I fancy I shall never execute the plan of the head
dress to which you allude--if I should, some of your largest corn
stalks, dril'd of the pith and painted might be more proportionable.
I rejoice that your cloths came off so much better than my
fears--a troublesome journey, I expected you would have; and very
much did I fear for your bones. I was always unhappy in anticipating
trouble--it is my constitution, I believe--and when matters have
been better than my fears--I have never been so dutifully thankful
as my bountiful Benefactor had a right to expect. This, also,
I believe, is the constitution of all my fellow race._

_Mr. Deming had a Letter from your Papa yesterday; he mention'd your
Mama & you as indispos'd & Flavia as sick in bed. I'm at too great a
distance to render you the least service, and were I near, too much
out of health to--some p