These two sisters, who were so constantly associated for so many years, differed very decidedly in many respects. Alice, the frailer in body, was much the stronger in will power; indeed her ability to force herself to begin and to stick to anything which she thought was to be done was the marvel of her friends. This intense energy often jarred on the more easy-going Phoebe, just as Phoebe's refusal to do literary work unless she were exactly in the right mood, often jarred upon Alice. However, the two sisters never showed their irritation; they were always sweet and gentle in their dealings with each other. Naturally, Alice's superior energy resulted in an output of literary work which was much larger than Phoebe's. There was a difference, too, besides that of quantity in the work of the sisters. Alice possessed a more objective imagination, that is, she could, in the ballads which she was so fond of writing, place herself in the position of those whom she was describing, and make their feelings her own. Phoebe, on the other hand, in her serious poems held more closely to her own experiences. Both the sisters were very fond of children, though in a different way, Alice feeling for them a sort of mother-love, while Phoebe always felt toward them as though they were comrades. It is the genuine love for children which makes the children's stories and poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary live. Shortly after Phoebe died one of her friends wrote, "The wittiest woman in America is dead;" and constantly on all sides was heard the saying, "O, if I had only taken down the many wonderfully bright things that I heard her say!" Her parodies have rarely been excelled, and some of her humorous poems are irresistibly funny. The best known perhaps of her parodies is the one on Longfellow's _The Day Is Done_, of which a stanza may be quoted here. For the original stanza which runs: "I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain," Phoebe Gary substituted the words: "I see the lights of the baker Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of hunger comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing That is not like being sick And resembles sorrow only, As a brickbat resembles a brick."