t us sing rock-a-by as we used to." So, with her head on his
shoulder, he rocked and sang rock-a-by, while she laughed. At last she
jumped up and ran off to see the bossy.

When she was gone, daddy heaved a deep sigh; but mammy cheered him up,
telling how thankful they ought to be for the safe return of their
child. 'T was touching to hear them talk, each telling the other how
good she was, and how from a child she had followed their wishes.

And to see how tender mammy was of his feelings! Never praising her
pretty face, or saying that she looked like her mother, but only
speaking of what he could take comfort in too.

Nobody but we three were in the room. At times they would keep silence.
Then something long forgotten would come to mind,--some good thing she
did, or said, or prayed, when a child,--and they would begin with, "And
don't you remember," and so go on with the whole story. Truly pleasant
were these memories of the past. Pleasant and sweet as the fragrance
which was brought to us by the evening wind from far-off flowery fields.

A time of greater satisfaction I never experienced. Suddenly came in
Aunt Bethiah and began to rattle the chairs, and to gather up whatever
was lying about. Mammy asked me to shut down the window, for the wind
seemed to have changed to the eastward. Frederic's girl came in the
evening with some others,--good-looking girls enough. All flowers can't
be roses.

In the night, I lay thinking, and thinking, and wishing for I knew not
what, and sighing for I knew not what, and looking forwards and
backwards till I was all in a whirl.

Is this, I said to myself, the little girl that used to hear me say my
catechism? And then I remembered how we used to sit opposite each other
on two crickets, while she put out the questions; and how her little
toes peeped out, for it was the spring of the year, and she was wearing
off her stockings ready to go barefooted. Her shoes were gone long
before.

And I remembered, too, how, ever since we were little children, we had
gone of summer mornings after wild roses for Old Becky to still; for
mammy never could do without rose-water. She used to start us early,
before the dew was off, for they were stronger then.

* * * * *

_June 8._--I thought last night that we should never go after roses any
more; but this morning, just as I was about to set off with the cows, I
heard the house-door shut, and then a light step on t