I HAVE tried to set down this memoir or story just as grandmother dictated it to me, and on that account there will be found, perhaps, some words and expressions which, although not incorrect, are not in use at the present day. I remember when we studied grammar with our dear Miss Hilliard she made us understand the difference between words and expressions which were obsolete or old-fashioned and those which were ungrammatical or vulgar. But I have thought the story would be more interesting if I wrote it in the dear old lady's own words. I have often tried to persuade her to write a memoir of her own life or let me do so, but I do not suppose the work would ever have been commenced if I had not sprained my ankle in running across the road to save Mrs. Bell's baby, which was just under the feet of Mr. Antis's horse. I am sure I don't regret saving the baby as I did, but I was a good deal vexed about the sprain, which seemed to be one of those which grandma calls unnecessary accidents, because, if Lucinda Bell had been minding the baby instead of scolding Jeduthun Cooke because her chickens ate his tomatoes, the thing would not have happened. But I am almost reconciled to sitting still and being waited on, since my want of amusement really brought grandmamma to the point of letting me write down some of her early recollections. ALICE BROWN. BOONVILLE, August, 1874. CONTENTS. ————— CHAPTER I.—EARLIEST DAYS II.—EARLY RECOLLECTIONS III.—GOING TO SCHOOL IV.—THE TREASURE-SEEKERS V.—SUNDAY VI.—THE GREAT BREAK VII.—AUNT BELINDA VIII.—MY NEW HOME IX.—THE DOLL'S TRAGEDY X.—BOSTON DAYS XI.—NEW CHANGES XII.—ELMINA'S FORTUNE XIII.—NEW SCENES XIV.—NEW EXPERIENCES XV.—ENGLISH DAYS XVI.—ENGLISH SCHOOL-DAYS XVII.—HOME AGAIN XVIII.—HOME XIX.—THE WEEKS OF SECLUSION XX.—CONCLUSION SCHOOL-DAYS IN 1800 GRANDMOTHER'S SCHOOL-DAYS. ————— CHAPTER I. _EARLIEST DAYS._ I WAS born in the town of Lee, Massachusetts, on the nineteenth day of October, 1781. The day of my birth was the anniversary of my father's forefathers' landing on this continent one hundred years before, and also of the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown—a surrender which really closed the Revolutionary war. My father, who was a dragoon all through the Revolution, was present on that occasion, and has often described the scene to us, telling us how the Germans wept as they laid down their arms, and how the British officers showed their bitter feelings by saluting the French officers on the American side, but refusing even to return the salutes of the Americans. It was hard for them, of course, but they certainly made the matter no better by such an undignified display of temper.