times over that performance.




CHAPTER II.

SCHOOL DAYS.


When I was eleven years old, two events occurred which changed
considerably the current of my life. My only brother, who had just
graduated from Union College, came home to die. A young man of great
talent and promise, he was the pride of my father's heart. We early felt
that this son filled a larger place in our father's affections and
future plans than the five daughters together. Well do I remember how
tenderly he watched my brother in his last illness, the sighs and tears
he gave vent to as he slowly walked up and down the hall, and, when the
last sad moment came, and we were all assembled to say farewell in the
silent chamber of death, how broken were his utterances as he knelt and
prayed for comfort and support. I still recall, too, going into the
large darkened parlor to see my brother, and finding the casket,
mirrors, and pictures all draped in white, and my father seated by his
side, pale and immovable. As he took no notice of me, after standing a
long while, I climbed upon his knee, when he mechanically put his arm
about me and, with my head resting against his beating heart, we both
sat in silence, he thinking of the wreck of all his hopes in the loss of
a dear son, and I wondering what could be said or done to fill the void
in his breast. At length he heaved a deep sigh and said: "Oh, my
daughter, I wish you were a boy!" Throwing my arms about his neck, I