her in a confidential whisper that she thought her curls
the sweetest thing in the world, and when she was a grown-up young lady
she meant to curl her hair all over her head.

Doris was glad Uncle Winthrop did not find any fault with them.

Of course she should be sorry to go. It was curious how one could be
glad and sorry in a breath.

Mrs. Leverett went over to Aunt Priscilla's to help pack. Oh, the boxes
and bundles and bags! They were tied up and labeled; some of them had
not been opened for years. Gowns that she had outgrown, stockings she
had knit, petticoats she had quilted--quite a fashion then.

"It's lucky we have a big garret," said Mrs. Leverett. "And whatever
will you do with them?"

"There's that flax wheel--it was grandmother's. She was like Benjamin
Franklin, who gave his sister Jane a spinning wheel on her wedding day:
she gave me that. And Jane's gone, though I did hear someone bought the
wheel for a sort of keepsake. Oh, Elizabeth, I don't know what _you_
will do with all this old trumpery!"

Elizabeth hardly knew either. It was good to have children and
grandchildren to take some of these things just to keep one from
hoarding up. Elizabeth, sweet soul, remembered the poor at her gates as
well. But most people were fond of holding onto everything until their
latest breath. There was some virtue in it, for the later generations
had many priceless heirlooms.

One of the south rooms was emptied, and after a great deal of argument
Aunt Priscilla was prevailed upon to use her best chamber furniture for
the rest of her life. She had not cared much for the housekeeping
project, and decided she would rather board a while until she could get
back some of her strength.

"What are you going to do with Solomon?" asked Doris.

"Well--I don't know. Aunt Elizabeth doesn't like cats very much. He's
such a nice fellow, I should hate to leave him behind and have him
neglected. But it's bad luck to move cats."

"I should like to have him."

"Would you, now? He's almost like a human. I've said that many a time;
and he went round asking after Polly just as plain as anyone could. I
declare, it made my heart ache. Polly had been a capable woman, and Mr.
Perkins bought her, so I didn't feel free to turn her away when he was
gone. And I'd grown used to a servant, too. I don't know what I should
have done without her the two years he was ailing. Though when she came
to be forgetful and lose her judgment it did use