So Sarah had to go through the briars, that scratched her, and the old man beat her, and the gate slammed on her, and when her mother met her she was a “sight.”  Her face was dirty, her dress torn, her legs and arms were scratched and bleeding, and her curly hair was in a mass of tangles.  Her mother washed the dirt off and scolded her for being so naughty.  Mary helped to wash and dress her for supper.  Then they all sat down to eat, and every one was happy but Sarah.

Sarah said:  “Mother, the lamb told me to spit in your hand.”

“Very well, come on,” answered the mother.  So Sarah spat in her mother’s hand and out jumped a lizard and a frog.

A child ever so small will see the moral, and that, I never forgot.  Of course the pearls and the diamonds are the politeness and kindness, which is so beautiful in children; and the lizard and the frog are rudeness and impudence.  Very often the nurse would say:  “Look here, you Sarah, you.”

I remember how shocked I would be to think I would ever be like that naughty Sarah.

A positive indication of a corrupt age is the lack of respect children have for parents.  This is largely owing to the neglect of teachers.  I am heartily thankful I was taught to say ’Yes Ma’am, and ‘No, ma’am,’ ‘Yes, Sir, and No, Sir.’  Now it is—­’Yah!  Yes, No, What, etc.  Nothing is a greater letter of credit than politeness and it costs nothing.  T’is not the child’s fault but the parents and teachers.

I was, when a child, always doing something; was very fond of climbing; seemed to have a mania for it.  I never saw a tall tree that I did not try to climb, or wish I could.  I used to run bareheaded over the fields and woods with the other children, lifting up rocks and logs to look at the bugs and worms.  When we found a dead chicken, bird, rat or mouse, we would have a funeral.  I would usually be the preacher and we would kneel down and while one prayed, the rest would look through their fingers, to see what the others were doing.  We would sing and clap our hands and shake hands, then we would play:  “Come and see.”

I never had but one doll, bought out of a store, it was given to me by Dr. Jackson for taking my medicine, when I was sick.  We made rag dolls out of dresses.  My delight was to have one of the colored women’s babies.  We would go visiting and take our dolls, and would tell of the dreadful times we had and of how mean our husbands were to the children; sometimes one would tell of how good instead.  And then we would catch bees in the althea blooms.  One of the delightful pastimes was to make mud cakes and put them on boards to dry.  We had some clay that we could mould anything out of—­all kind of animals, and, indeed, there were shapes worked out by little fingers never seen before.