Holidays at the Grange; or, A Week's Delight: Games and Stories for Parlor and FiresideHiggins, Emily Mayer
General
Holidays at the Grange; or, A Week's Delight: Games and Stories for Parlor and Fireside
Higgins, Emily Mayer
Amusements -- Juvenile literature; Children's stories; Indoor games -- Juvenile literature
The war waged
between England and France had extended to the colonies, and the French
were unremitting in their efforts to gain the Indians to their side. A
line of fortifications was erected by them, extending from Canada to the
Ohio and Mississippi, and they were strongly intrenched at Fort Du
Quesne, the site of the city of Pittsburg. Braddock's expedition and
memorable defeat had just taken place; and it was thought by many that
the Pennsylvania tribes, enraged by the honorable refusal of the
Assembly to accept their tomahawks and scalping-knives in the war, and
courted, on the other hand, by the French, were cherishing a secret, but
deep hostility. Many of Mr. Buckingham's neighbors erected blockhouses,
protected by palisades, to which they might retreat in case of an
attack, and stored them with arms, ammunition, and provisions; but his
confidence in the good disposition of the aborigines was too great to
allow him to appear suspicious of those who came backward and forward to
his dwelling in so much apparent friendship.
Such was the posture of affairs when Emily had reached her fourth year:
dear as she was to her parents, the return of her birthday found her
unspoilt, and as sweet and well-trained a child as any in the colony. It
was worth a walk to see her: her golden curls fell upon a neck of
alabaster, and her delicate, regular features were illuminated by dark
vivacious eyes: she strongly resembled her mother, who had one of those
faces which once seen, are never forgotten, and that seem to ripen
merely, not to change, from youth to old age. But this extreme
loveliness of person formed but the setting of the gem; Emily herself
combined so much sweetness and liveliness of disposition, was so
affectionate, gentle, and docile, that it was no wonder her parents made
her the centre of all their plans and enjoyments. It was she who must
always outstrip her mother, in welcoming her father in from the field,
"And climbed his knee, the envied kiss to share,"
and to listen to the delightful tale, that could never be repeated too
often: she must bring his slippers, and place his seat near the fire in
winter. And she must "help mamma" in all her concerns; and although such
help was only a delicious kind of hindrance, her bright face and winsome
ways made all tasks light and pleasant. Never had she looked so lovely
in her mother's eyes as she did on the evening of her birthday, when in
her little white night-slip, with bare feet and folded hands, she knelt
down to recite the simple prayer she had been taught that day, as a
reward for good conduct; the setting sun streamed in at the window, and
as its rays lingered among her curls, as if they belonged there, and
were reluctant to leave, the mother thought of a kneeling cherub, with a
glory encirling her head--but blessed God that her child was yet upon
the earth. Long did that picture dwell upon her memory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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