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has published chiefly through the magazines, in which, during the last twenty years, more than a hundred of her tales have appeared. These would make, if collected, several large volumes. Her writings are generally of a practical cast, on subjects of every-day life, and have been deservedly popular.

Her early childhood was passed in the most retired part of, at that time, a retired country town, Georgetown, Mass.

Early impressions are seldom effaced, and the first six years of her life spent amid rural scenes gave a permanent tone and colouring to her mind. She was educated to love birds and flowers, and the children of the family were always called to look at a rainbow as an object worthy of peculiar admiration. One of her dearest pleasures was to watch, with her sister, the early garden-plants, when they first broke through the dark, rich soil. But the wild flowers which grew in profusion near the paternal dwelling, yielded, if possible, a delight still more vivid. Among these, the violets which gemmed the green and sunny slopes, held pre-eminence. Birds were still more fondly cherished than flowers, the love bestowed on them, like themselves, having more vitality. A number of orioles, or, as they were generally called in that vicinity, golden robins, glancing in and out of the cloud of snowy or rose-tinted blooms, which covered some old apple-tree, was a treat that must have been enjoyed with a similar zest, to be truly appreciated.

Nor were the winter evenings without their pleasures, though books were scarce, and newspapers almost unknown. Her maternal grandmother, who was a member of the family, was an accomplished story teller, and she used to listen, spell-bound, to the wild legends, tales of Indian warfare, or the trials and hardships of the pioneer’s domestic life, which were related in a clear, emphatic manner, that gave to them a charm and a raciness, which could never have been imparted to a written story.

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