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Updated: June 3, 2025
So I'm going to have it end like this: I did n't write it, I just sewed it while I was working on my star: "For it's your star, my star, all the stars together, That make our country's flag so proud To float in the bright fall weather. Northern stars, Southern stars, stars of the East and West, Side by side they lie at peace On the dear flag's mother-breast."
"'Oh! many are the poets that are sown by nature," thought the minister, quoting Wordsworth to himself. "And I wonder what becomes of them! That's a pretty idea, little Rebecca, and I don't know whether you or my wife ought to have the more praise. What made you think of the stars lying on the flag's mother-breast'? Where did you get that word?"
Tired-looking mothers came, with their babies in their arms; and the weary wrinkles faded from their faces, and they listened in silent content, while the little ones, who perhaps had been fretting and complaining a moment before, nestled now quietly against the mother-breast, and felt that no one wanted to tease or ill-treat them, but that the world was all full of Mother, who loved them.
Not unwisely ordered is that eternal destiny which renders the seer despised of men, since thereby he is but the more surely taught to lay his head meekly upon the mother-breast of Nature, and harken to the musical soft beating of her bounteous heart. Lowell was the founder and editor of The Pioneer, Robert Carter being his associate. The magazine lived only three months.
Marg kept the secret of the Hollow cabin in her seething heart. She was frightened, fearing her father or Jed might discover Nella-Rose. But she was, at times, filled with a strange longing to see her sister and touch that wonderful thing that lay on the guilty mother-breast.
So I'm going to have it end like this: I didn't write it, I just sewed it while I was working on my star: For it's your star, my star, all the stars together, That make our country's flag so proud To float in the bright fall weather. Northern stars, Southern stars, stars of the East and West, Side by side they lie at peace On the dear flag's mother-breast."
"'Oh! many are the poets that are sown by Nature," thought the minister, quoting Wordsworth to himself. "And I wonder what becomes of them! That's a pretty idea, little Rebecca, and I don't know whether you or my wife ought to have the more praise. What made you think of the stars lying on the flag's 'mother-breast'? Were did you get that word?"
All that was left for her to do now, was to lift the cross as she might from this stunted and saddened life, and walk beside him to the farther side. The poor, little wrinkled mouth was nestling against the mother-breast. Instinct was alive in the child. Joyce laughed. At first tremblingly, then shrilly. Suddenly she began to sing a lullaby, and the tune was interrupted by laughs and moans.
The babies were carried out, bathed and brought back, their nuzzling mouths open for the waiting mother-breast. The nurses moved about, efficient, kindly, whimsically maternal. Women went out when their hour came, swollen of feature and figure, and were wheeled back later on, etherealized, purified as by fire, and later on were given their babies.
And by twisting my head a little I was able to see the two wire bassinets, side by side, each holding a little mound of something wrapped in a flannelette blanket. I shut my eyes, for I seemed to have a great deal to think over. Twins! A boy and girl! Two little new lives in the world! Two warm and cuddling little bairns to nest close against my mother-breast.
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