"lad's-love." A rose, a bunch of mignonette would be to her too gay a posy
for the Lord's House and the Lord's Day. And balmier breath than was
ever borne by blossom is the pure fragrance of green growing
things,--southernwood, mint, sweet fern, bayberry, sweetbrier. No rose is
half so fresh, so countrified, so memory-sweet.

The benches and the pew-seats in the old churches were never cushioned.
Occasionally very old or feeble women brought cushions to meeting to sit
upon. It is a matter of recent tradition that Colonel Greenleaf caused a
nine days' talk in Newbury town at the beginning of this century when
he cushioned his pew. The widow of Sir William Pepperell, who lived in
imposing style, had her pew cushioned and lined and curtained with
worsted stuff, and carpeted with a heavy bear-skin. This worn, faded, and
moth-eaten furniture remained in the Kittery church until the year 1840,
just as when Lady Pepperell furnished and occupied the pew. Nor were even
the seats of the pulpit cushioned. The "cooshoons" of velvet or leather,
which were given by will to the church, and which were kept in the pulpit,
and were nibbled by the squirrels, were for the Bible, not the minister, to
rest upon.

In many churches--in Durham, Concord and Sandwich--the pews had
swing-shelves, "leaning shelves," upon which a church attendant could rest
his paper and his arm when taking notes from the sermon, as was at one time
the universal custom, and in which even school-boys of a century ago had
to take part. Funny stories are told of the ostentatious notes taken by
pompous parishioners who could neither write nor read, but who could
scribble, and thus cut a learned figure.

The doors of the pews were usually cut down somewhat lower than the
pew-walls, and frequently had no top-rails. They sometimes bore the name of