It will be impossible to fully describe “Aunt Hildy’s Plot,” as it appeared in the days when everything was settled, and the children at work in earnest, each with an idea born of himself.

I thought I saw little that spoke to me of original sin and of the depravity which, according to an ancient creed, grew in the human heart as a part of each individual.  There were strawberry beds and raspberry rooms, patches of lettuce and peppergrass, long rows of corn with trailing bean-vines in their rear, hedges of peas and string beans, and young trees set out in different places, like sentinels of love and care reaching toward the overarching sky.

Little Sammy had his onion patch as he desired.  It was a happy sight, and one that touched the heart, to see each one progressing methodically day after day.  They worked an hour before breakfast, and as long as they pleased after supper.  They took great comfort in “changing works,” as they called it; you would hear them say: 

“Now, let’s all go over to Joe’s land this afternoon, and to John’s to-morrow;” and in this way they sowed and reaped together.

The plot measured considerably more than two acres, and there was a space of about twenty square rods for each.

This, when properly cared for, made for them nice gardens to take care of.  Louis succeeded, of course, in the school.  The building had cost considerably more than six hundred dollars, for we knew it was wise to build it of brick rather than wood, and also to have room enough for an increase of pupils.

Louis said, when it was being built: 

“I can see, Emily, the days to come; the harvest that shall arise; and for years, perhaps, the hands of the reapers will not number many.  Some of the seed will fall on barren soil, and some of the grain that waits for the reaper will spoil; but in the end, yes, in the gathering up of all, the century shall dawn that lights the world with these dear thoughts that feed us to-day.  Work and pleasure go hand in hand with the progressive thought that after a time shall blend the souls of men with those of angels, for ‘the earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.’  I feel that I have escaped so much in coming here when I did.  These hills have, with your presence, my beloved, made it the shrine of purity, and the vows here taken have absolved my soul.  The little things that arise to annoy us may not be called trouble, and we shall live here till our hair is gray; till Emily Minot shall take in her own hands the reins that fall from the hands of her mother; for I feel that all the unfinished pictures which we shall leave will be completed, some at the hands of our daughter, and others by those whose hearts we shall learn to know.

    Before we leave this lower state
    To join the well-beloved who wait,
    Our little mother helps us here,
    Our guardian angel through each year. 
    She was as beautiful as fair;
    How glorious an angel there!’”