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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Every day is a fresh beginning, Every morn is the world made new," sang the girl, springing from bed and running to her bath; a daily habit which surprised and pleased both Miss Maitland and the housekeeper, accustomed as they were to the rebellion of young Marsdenites to even a weekly tubbing. A habit which had done much to win Eunice's favor toward the "second Mrs.
She had even once assisted at a "bee," where several women had assembled to prepare a burial garment for an old, bedridden neighbor, who, less "forehanded" than Marsdenites in general, had neglected to provide one for herself. The careless creature was living yet, and likely to outlive many a stronger woman, but that didn't matter.
Then, in turn, he pointed out to her the old meeting-house and graveyard, long since disused, where the Marsdenites had repaired to take their Sunday lunch. "But it was so so funny! So absurd, so sort of of ghastly, wasn't it? But what a perfectly glorious place for a hallowe'en party if there was anybody to give a party to. I wish there was somebody to play with, Uncle Moses."
In them she seemed to be eternally climbing steep stairs into a chamber of horrors tenanted by one starving boy; or she was watching Madam choke to death over a lump of hot scorched porridge; or she was being tossed on the horns of Squire Pettijohn's black bull, the terror of all young, and some old, Marsdenites, and from this last dream she awoke to find the kitchen quite dark, and Whitey mooing outside the window.
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