When Grandmamma Was New: The Story of a Virginia Childhood

For

had dug a vault yesterday. It was modelled upon the description given in The Fairchild Family of one belonging to a nobleman's estate. My self-education was essentially Squeersian. When I read a thing, I fo

ad trod, crippling it so badly that Uncle Carter mercifully killed it with a blow of his stick. The poultry-yard and an epidemic of pip supplied me with two more silent tenants. A mouse-trap strangled a fifth, the gardener's mole-trap yielded up a sixth. Nos. 7 and 8 were land-terrap

fe's peace was made by filling a tumbler within an inch of the brim with strong soap-suds, and fitting upon the top a round cover of thick "sugar-loaf paper," with a hole in the middle. Molasses was smeared all around this hole upon the under

n and tumbler in

, sure enough?

oor-nail, li

me, please! I

vault, and strewed fine dry sand over them an inch deep. Then I fitted on

cal father's shout of laughter at any unusual freak or experiment abraded my moral cuticle sometimes. At home the colored children would have entered heartily into my mortuary enterprise,-yes! and kept my counsel. The reticenc

If Cousin Molly Belle suspected what I was about, she asked no questions, and refrained from spying upon me. When dressed clean in the afternoon, for the second time since breakfast,-the manufacture of mud-pies, puddings

in imagination, honeycombed the space under the benches with catacombs, and my book was clean forgotten, before I saw a movement in the sandy flooring, close to the edge of the flat stone sealing the mouth of the vault. I leaned forward to inspect it more nearly. The stone had been undermined at one side, and a hole left there, through which a line of flies, gray w

e sun, that I had sifted over them, had acted as a hot blanket upon the chilled body of a dying man. When I got rid of the swarm I examined the vault. Both of the terrap

ely chagrined at the cheat practised upon my benevolent n

ed hard at the stranger who stood with his hands behind him, still smiling, but not saying a word. He was nattily dressed in a blue cloth coat and trousers, and a white waistcoat. A white satin stock of the latest style encircled a slender neck; he wore shiny boots,

ittle courtesy, as well-bred children stil

d to kiss me. This was going several steps too far. I clapp

Cousin Molly Belle!" I sc

y uncle, aunt, and their two sons having gone on

ake! don't

very ear, her arm held

elief and surprise, and when she sat down, I cli

said analytically. "And his

to show that she

now that I ought to have been. I mean to be-just for fun-until they all come home. I'm in exactly the humor to do something outrageous. I'm tired to death of everyday doings and everyday people, and my everyday self. You and I are going to have a real spree, a glorious frolic, and nobody else is to know a singl

in order to get into the lane leading to the public road. We called it "a lane." Now it would be an avenue, or drive. The finest Lombardy poplars in Powhatan County bordered it; sheep mint, pennyroyal, sweetbrier, and wild thyme grew up close t

And it must be just fine not to have to hold up your frocks when you want to run fast, and to climb trees and jump fences

a woman's. Though why any man with a grain of sense in his head should ever want to put on skirts, I can't see. If I were to meet a magistrate

!" squeezing her hand h

e,' you little goosie! If we did, we'd take to t

ood-roads branching off from the thoroughfare every few rods. I think the madcap chose the rutty and mud-holey route because there was, at least, a chance that w

d to go up the bank into the low grounds to find a long log laid from side to side of a narrower part of th

oing?" I asked, a

t across the field home. It's more

les at a time, o

ave little li

r?le of "Cousin Burwell." She could imitate him to perfection; her strut and swagger and slang threw me into paroxysms of delight. We picked huckleberries, and dived into the woods to feast upon wild plums that had ten drops of syrupy juice between tough skins and fli

saying, one could see six dwelling-houses, each with its group of outbuildings, representing six fine plantations. A saddle-horse was

ow! clothes don't make any

. About the middle of the field was a tobacco barn, and by climbing upon the top rail of the fence so as to overlook a row of sassafras saplings,

re pacing briskly down the hill. At the bottom we struck into a cross-road leading to Uncle Carter's plantation. Cousin Molly Belle was laughing too heartily to speak distinctly, and I joined in with all my heart, with a very imperfe

he comes to the fence and Snap i

r outer gate, and hit him a crack with my switch and start him toward home. He'll not tell tales out of school-will you, old boy?" slapping his neck affectionately. "Mr. Frank Morton will never guess why th

id, Tom's Hill was a stony ledge, running like a sharp backbone between fertile fields,