But the first time I went from home alone—that was an event! Went alone, did I say? I am too fast. My father saw me safely to the place where I was to go, and left me to spend a few days and come home in the stage.
When he left me, he gave me a bright half dollar, for spending money. Now would you give anything, my little friend, to know how I spent it? If you had known me in those days, you could have easily guessed, even if not much of a Yankee. I bought a book with it, of course. I thought I could not purchase anything to be compared with that in value. Since then I have learned there are other things in the world besides books, although I must own that I still cling to not a little of my old friendship for them. How long seemed the few days I was absent from my father’s house. I had seen a great deal of the world, I thought, during that time. There seemed to be an illusion about it—a feeling as if I had been from home for weeks; and when I returned, and found some of the good things upon the table which were baked before I left home, I thought they must be very old—very old indeed.
“I should like to know how long you think you have been gone,” said some member of the family.
Sure enough! How long had I been away? Not quite a week. But you need not smile, for that week was a long one. We do not always measure time by minutes and hours. That is not the only week of my life that has appeared long. I have seen other weeks that seemed as long as some months. We sometimes live very fast, and at other times, more slowly.
But this is not the journey I am going to tell you about. I was young then, and a little green, no doubt; but before I left home again, I had got rid of my ignorance on some points. Miss Tompkins, a maiden lady, who sometimes came to our house to sew, and who laid claim to more personal experience in such matters than myself, had received from some one a chapter of instructions about traveling—a kind of traveler’s guide—and as she did not wish to be so selfish as to keep all her knowledge for her own use, she very freely gave away some of it for my benefit.
[Illustration: AUNT KATE AND HER TUTOR]
“When you travel,” said my instructor, “you must not be too modest and retiring. You must always help yourself to the best things that come within your reach, as if you considered them yours, as a matter of course. If you only act as if you think yourself a person of consequence, you will be treated as such. But if you stand one side, and seem to think that anything is good enough for you, every one will be sure to think so too. It is as much as saying that you don’t think yourself of much importance. Others, of course, will conclude that you ought to be the best judge, and that you are a sort of nobody, who may be disposed of to suit anybody’s convenience.”
Now as these items of advice were given as the result of the experience of those who had seen a great deal of the world, and as I was very ready to admit my own ignorance, I resolved to lay up these hints for future service, when I should travel again.