The Story of My Childhood
53
were no longer mysteries in paint and paper. I knew them all, and that work would bring callouses even on little hands.
When the work was finished and everything gone, I went to my room, lonesome in spite of myself. I found on my candle stand a box containing a pretty little locket, neatly inscribed, "To a faithful worker." No one seemed to have any knowledge of it, and I never gained any.
The new home presented a phase of
life quite unfamiliar to me. From
never having had any playmates, I now
found myself one of a very lively body
of six—three boys and three girls
nearer of an age than would have
been probable in the same family. My
father had taken charge of the young
