After the first dresses were finished, there came a Sunday when I was allowed to go to the Mission Church with Kitty Purcell, the baker’s little daughter, and I felt wonderfully fine in my pink calico frock, flecked with a bird’s-eye of white, a sun-bonnet to match, and green shoes.

The brilliantly lighted altar, decked with flowers, the priests in gorgeous vestments, the acolyte with the swinging censer, and the intoned service in foreign tongue, were bewildering to me.  My eyes wandered from the clergy to the benches upon which sat the rich and the great, then back to the poor, among whom I was kneeling.  Each humble worshipper had spread a bright-bordered handkerchief upon the bare floor as a kneeling mat.  I observed the striking effect, then recollecting my shoes, put my hand back and drew up the hem of my dress, that my two green beauties might be seen by the children behind me.  No seven-year-old child ever enjoyed finery more than I did those little shoes.

Gifts which grandma considered quite unsuitable came one day in two neat wooden boxes about thirty inches in length, and eight in width and depth.  They were addressed to us individually, but in grandma’s care.  When she removed the cover and a layer of cotton batting from Georgia’s, a beautiful French lady-doll was revealed, exquisitely dressed, with a spray of flowers in her hair, and another that looped one side of her lovely pink skirt sufficiently high to display an elaborately trimmed petticoat.  She was so fine in lace and ribbons, yes, even watch and chain, that grandma was loath to let us touch her, and insisted she should be handled in the box.

My gift was a pretty young Swiss matron in holiday attire, really more picturesque, and quite as costly as Georgia’s, but lacking that daintiness which made the lady-doll untouchable.  I had her to hug and look at only a few moments; then both boxes with their precious contents were put away for safe keeping, and brought forth only on state occasions, for the inspection of special visitors.

Grandma did not want any nonsense put into our heads.  She wished us to be practical, and often quoted maxims to the effect that, “As the twig is bent, the tree’s inclined”; “All work is ennobling if well done”; “Much book-learning for girls is not conducive to happiness or success”; and “The highest aim of a girl should be honesty, chastity, and industry.”

Still, she was so pleased when I could write a little with ink and quill, that she dictated several letters to Jakie, who was in the dairy business near Stockton; and in an unguarded moment she agreed that I should attend Miss Doty’s school.  Then she hesitated.  She wished to treat us exactly alike, yet could not spare both at the same time.  Finally, as a way out of the difficulty, she decided that we should attend school alternate months, during the summer; and that my sister, being the elder, should begin the course.

It seemed to me that Georgia’s month at school would never end.  My own sped faster than I wished.  Miss Doty helped me with my lessons during part of the noon hour, and encouragingly said, “Be patient, keep trying, and you will gain your reward.”