It seemed to me that every animate thing was made to be happy.  I loved to stand beneath a tall old hemlock in a certain part of the wood, and watch the squirrels as they skipped and ran so swiftly along the wall, or from branch to branch, or up and down the trees.  Their chattering made a fine accompaniment to the bird-songs.  And here I learned to indulge a fondness for the very crows, which to this day I have never outgrown.  Though they have been denounced as mischievous, and bounties have been set upon them, I never could find it in my heart to indulge in the warring propensity against them.  They always seemed to me such social company—­issuing from some edge of the woodland, and slowly flapping their black wings, and flocking out into the clearing, huddling overhead, and sailing away, chatting so loudly and heartily all the while, and reminding the whole neighborhood that when we have life, it is best to let others know it!  Yes—­the cawing crows have been company for me in many a solitary ramble; and whenever I hear them, I inwardly pay my respects to them.  All these, and other familiar sights and sounds, did I richly enjoy at the old cottage in the woods.

I loved to sit at the shed-door, and watch my grandfather at his slow work; for he had been a mechanic in his day, and was able to do a little very moderately at his trade now.  He would tell me the history of the old people in the neighborhood, and of the customs and fashions when they were boys and girls; and my eyes and ears were open to hear him.  I used to wish I could see them just as they looked when they were children.  It was very difficult then for me to imagine how those who had become so wrinkled could ever have had the smooth faces of infants and children.  But my grandfather could remember when he was a boy; and his father had told him what things were done when he, too, was a boy.  And so I concluded that wrinkles were no disgrace, nor the fairest faces of the young any protection against them.

My grandmother was very fond of me, and took great pleasure in having me read to her, as her eyesight had become somewhat dim.  And so I used to load myself with story-books and newspapers, when I became older, to carry and read to her.  And such times as we had with them!  Voyages, travels, discoveries, adventures, perils,—­the wonders of the world, the wonders of science, the wonders of history,—­all came in for their share of reading.  Though I should read myself tired and sleepy, my grandmother would still be an interested listener.  Since I have been a minister, I have often wished that many hearers would as eagerly listen to what I had to say especially to them, as did my aged grandmother to my young words then.