Growing Up: A Story of the Girlhood of Judith MackenzieConklin, Nathaniel, Mrs.
General
Growing Up: A Story of the Girlhood of Judith Mackenzie
Conklin, Nathaniel, Mrs.
Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Girls -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“But she did know how to knit, and she knit stockings a yard long for
her father as long as he lived. She studied while she knit, as I used
to do when I was a little girl. When she was a little girl how she
did read! Before she was ten years old she read through Rollin’s
_Ancient History_.
“One night in October, 1847, she was gazing through her telescope,
and what do you think she saw? An unknown comet. She was afraid it
was an old story. Frederick VI., King of Denmark, sixteen years
before, had offered a gold medal to the person who should discover a
telescopic comet. And the little Nantucket girl, who had knitted
stockings a yard long, and washed endless dishes, discovered the
telescopic comet, and to her was awarded the gold medal. And now the
scientific journals announced Miss Mitchell’s comet. In England she
was eagerly welcomed by Sir John and Lady Herschel, and Alexander Von
Humboldt took her beside him on a sofa and talked to her about
everybody he knew and everything he knew. And, oh! the other great
people who were glad to see her. She saw in Rome Frederika Bremer, of
whose comical, interesting, sad girlhood I must tell you some day.
But I musn’t forget the little house Maria bought for her father
before she went to the observatory of Vassar College. It cost sixteen
hundred and fifty dollars, and she saved the money out of her yearly
salary of one hundred dollars, and what she could earn in government
work.”
“I don’t think I mind washing dishes so much now,” declared Nan.
And we all laughed.
“Good,” exclaimed Judith’s listener. “Keep on with the dozen, and
salt them down. _When I Was a Boy_ series will be a good thing for
you. Judith, honest, now, would you rather go away to school this
winter, or read and write with Marion and me?”
“Study with you,” was the quick decision; “I can think of nothing in
the world I would like so well.”
“Then that is settled,” he replied with satisfaction; “I feared you
would be restless. You are at the frisky and restless age. Marion was
sure you would not be.”
“But—” Judith hesitated and colored painfully, “if I am to teach by
and by, would it be better for me to go to school? I can borrow the
money and then earn it by teaching and repay Aunt Affy.”
“We are not making a teacher of you; we are making an educated woman—”
“But, Roger,” she persisted, “unless I go back to Aunt Affy I must
support myself. I am not willing to be dependent upon any one except
Aunt Affy.”
“Upon whom are you dependent now? Are you not earning your board by
being co-operative housekeeper?”
“If you and Marion think so.”
“Ask Marion.”
“But I would like to ask you, too?”
“I thought my little sister had more delicacy of feeling than to ask
such a question.”
“Roger, don’t be a goose,” she said, indignantly, “that was all very
well when I was a child. You forget that I am grown up.”
“You will not let me forget it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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