There were poppies, from whose
"diminished heads" the loose leaves were to be gathered in a basket,
(for they might stain the apron,) and lightly spread in the garret for
drying. There were ripe poppy-seeds to be shaken out through the curious
lid of their seed-vessel, in which a child's fancy found a curious
resemblance to a _pepper-box_; I often forced it to serve as one in the
imaginary feasts spread out on the door-step, though there were no
guests to be invited, except plenty of wandering butterflies, or an
occasional humming-bird, whizzing about the crimson blossoms of the
balm. Oh, the delights of Aunt Rose's flower-garden!
Then, there were the chickens to be fed, and the milking of the cows to
be "assisted at," and a chat enjoyed, meanwhile, with good-natured
Nancy, the maid, to stand beside whose spinning-wheel when, in an
afternoon, she found time to set it in motion, herself arrayed in a
clean gown and apron, was another great delight.
But my greatest enjoyments were found in Cousin Mary Rose's pleasant
chamber, which always seemed bright with the sunshine. From its windows
I looked out over fields of grain, and fruitful orchards, and green
meadows, sloping all the way to the banks of the blue Connecticut. I
doubt if I had ever known before that there was any beauty in a
prospect. There was plenty of pleasant occupation for me in that
chamber.
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