[Footnote 15:  Mrs. Andrew J. Grayson, wife of the well-known ornithologist, frequently referred to as the “Audubon of the West.”]

CHAPTER XXI

MORAL DISCIPLINE—­THE HISTORICAL PUEBLO OF SONOMA—­SUGAR PLUMS.

Grandma often declared that she loved me, and did not want to be too severe; but, for fear that I had learned much wickedness from the little Indians with whom I had played after I left her at the Fort, she should watch me very closely herself, and also have Georgia tell her whenever she should see me do wrong.  Consequently, for a while after I reached Sonoma, I was frequently on the penitential bench, and was as often punished for fancied misdoings as for real ones.  Yet, I grant that grandma was warranted in being severe the day that she got back from town before I was ready for her.

She had left us with the promise that she would bring us something nice if we would be good children and do certain work that she had planned.  After we had finished the task, we both became restless, wondered how soon she would come back, and what we could do next to keep from being lonesome.  Then I espied on the upper shelf the cream-colored sugar bowl, with the old-fashioned red roses and black foliage on its cover and sides.  Grandma had occasionally given us lumps of sugar out of it; and I now asked Georgia if I hadn’t better get it down, so that we could each have a lump of sugar.  Hesitatingly, she said, “No, I am afraid you will break it.”  I assured her that I would be very careful, and at once set a chair in place and climbed up.  It was quite a strain to reach the bowl, so I lifted it down and rested it on the lower shelf, expecting to turn and put it into Georgia’s hands.  But, somehow, before I could do this, the lid slipped off and lay in two pieces upon the floor.  Georgia cried out reproachfully,

“There, you know I didn’t want you to do it, and now you will get a good whipping for breaking grandma’s best sugar bowl!”

I replied loftily that I was not afraid, because I would ask God to mend it for me.  She did not think He would do it, but I did.  So I matched the broken edges and put it on the chair, knelt down before it and said “Please” when I made my request.  I touched the pieces very carefully, and pleaded more earnestly each time that I found them unchanged.  Finally, Georgia, watching at the door, said excitedly, “Here comes grandma!”

I arose, so disappointed and chagrined that I scarcely heard her as she entered and spoke to me.  I fully believed that He would have mended that cover if she had remained away a little longer; nevertheless, I was so indignant at Him for being so slow about it, that I stood unabashed while Georgia told all that had happened.  The whipping I got did not make much impression, but the after talks and the banishment from “good company” were terrible.