study at Oberlin College she had been Preceptress of Riga Academy, New York, and Columbia Female College, Tennessee. Her fame as a teacher had gone out far and wide, and we thought nothing could ever give us so much pleasure as to see "Aunt Sarah." Our own dear mother had taught "eleven summers and seven winters," as we had often heard her say; but here was a woman who had been a teacher all her life long, who was a mathematician, an historian, a mental philosopher, and what-not, besides! She was to come from Buffalo to Milwaukee, "around the Lakes," and then by cars to Janesville, for we had the cars at last, and the screech of the locomotive sounded as we thought the voice of a horrid dragon might have done.

Father, who was fond of a secret, had tried to keep this great event as a surprise, but in hunting his pockets for the latest newspapers I had come upon my aunt's letter and shown it to mother, who knew all about the matter, but counseled silence on the children's part. So when he went to town one night,—a thing he almost never did at such an hour-advising us to sit up until his return, which was exactly opposite to his general counsel, we knew very well what it meant. The usual style of children, whose lives are so brimful of happenings that they have learned to take almost everything as a matter of course, can hardly imagine what it really did mean to us to have Aunt Sarah come! Here we had lived alone, year after year, in a place where most people would have thought that nothing ever happened; hardly a person of our own blood had we seen since the whitecovered wagons started from Oberlin so long ago; letters were now and then exchanged, to be sure, but each letter cost twentyfive cents, hence was an infrequent luxury; and here, at last, was coming the wonderful woman who had studied many books and knew the world! Loren declared that he should stay at the barn-he did n't dare to see her. Bridget said "she knew enough of great people to lay in a good stock o' provisions when they was comin' 'round"; the Hodge children and Louise said there. would be no more fun and they wished she would n't come, and meanwhile father rejoiced in the wonderful surprise he had in store for all of us! At the unheard-of late hour of ten, whose clear stroke on the old brass clock we young people had almost never listened to before, the rumble of wheels along that unfre

Our Astronomy Lessons.

93

quented road told of Aunt Sarah's coming. Loren rushed out to take care of the team and Oliver to help bring in the trunk. Mother's calm face was wonderfully lighted up; how lonely she had been and how much hard work she had done since she saw her sister last! Candle in hand she stepped out on the piazza; a tall lady in a handsome blue traveling dress threw her arms about her and both women cried. I relieved mother of the light, father and Oliver brought in the trunk, my aunt gave me a hug and took sweet Mary on her knee.

'Well! for country folks you don't surprise worth a cent, that's certain," said my father, but he never knew how much we knew, meek-eyed deceivers that we were!

It took but a short time to get acquainted. Mary said, "Aunt Sarah is so much like mother that I'm not afraid of her." Oliver agreed to this, and so did I, but as I was the shy one of them all, I was on my good behavior longest. But Aunt Sarah was such a brave and sunny spirit, that I very soon "thawed out," as Oliver laughingly called it, and became a walking interrogation point, giving my aunt no rest in my desire to learn all about the people, customs, etc., which the "learned lady" had. found out in her wide experience. Teaching was such a passion with her, that in a few days she had me studying mathematics, derivation of English words, and history, while Mary listened to these recitations and took another set better suited to her years. Aunt Sarah was a devout Christian, and all her lessons led toward God. The Bible was one of her text-books in astronomy, and she delighted to explain its references to the Pleiades, Arcturus, and Orion. She was very clear in everything she taught. Standing up in all her ample proportions, she said one day, "Now I will represent the sun; Frank shall turn round and round, and so turning shall also go in a circle around me, and while she does this, Mary must move slowly around her; thus Frank will represent the daily and yearly motions of the earth, and Mary of its satellite." So she made our work seem play. She illustrated as clearly, the tides, the zodiac, precession of the equinoxes and many other points usually "skimmed over," rather than learned. Meanwhile, I read Dr. Dick's "Christian Philosopher" and "Future State," and was so wrought upon that when I had to help get dinner one Sunday, I fairly cried. "To come down

to frying onions when I've been away among the rings of Saturn, is a little too much!" I said, impatiently. Poor ignorant child! I had not yet learned that

"To sweep a room as for God's laws,

Makes that and the action fine."

At the end of a delightful winter's training under our aunt, with whom we afterward spent (before leaving Forest Home) a term at the Milwaukee Female College, where she was Professor of History, we girls had the sorrow of seeing her go away to her home at the East. After twenty years devoted to teaching, almost wholly in the college grades, this dear aunt married Mr. Ward Hall in 1862 and lives near the old home in Churchville, N. Y.

In the spring of 1857, when I was seventeen, our parents sent us to Milwaukee because Aunt Sarah was then one of the leading teachers there, and they had entire confidence in our wellbeing when we were with her. We boarded in the home of Dr. M. P. Hanson, for so many years the Dr. Dio Lewis of Milwaukee, and found its Christian atmosphere was like that of our own father's house. Miss Mary Mortimer, the Principal, was absent from the college on leave, and I have always regretted missing the contact of a pupil with that great, philosophic soul. The Misses Mary and Carrie Chapin, and Miss H. Huntington, all accomplished New England teachers, had us in hand.

The college was Congregational in leadership, though really unsectarian. We went with our aunt to Plymouth Church where I greatly enjoyed the preaching of Rev. Dr. Z. M. Humphrey, and the Bible class conducted by his accomplished wife.

I was never in an institution where the moral atmosphere was so clear and invigorating as that of the Milwaukee Female College. We used to sit in the great study hall without a teacher present, and any girl who would have misbehaved or laughed or whispered would have been looked upon as beneath contempt. We were all "upon honor, "-the teachers trusted us. I remember on the first day, I went to my class in geology, and, not knowing that it was against the rule, I spoke to a classmate about the lesson as we were climbing the stairs toward our teacher, and entirely

*Two of Miss Hill's visits are here included in one.

away from supervision; my school-mate looked at me brightly and kindly, evidently perceiving that I intended no harm, and laid her taper finger on her sweet, shy lips. I could not forget in a thousand years the majesty of the occasion, as it impressed my mind, the sacred sense of truth it gave me and the determination that it deepened in my spirit to be just as trusty and conscientious as was she.

My admiration for Marion Wolcott, daughter of Dr. E. B. Wolcott, the city's chief physician, was beyond words. Immaculate in character, conduct and scholarship, I set her up as my standard at once, and never rested until, like her, I heard "Ten, Ten, meaning "perfect in punctuality, behavior and lessons," read out each week after my name.

My diligence in study was so great that Aunt Sarah feared for my health. Each evening I rehearsed to her the lessons of the coming day or wrote on my forthcoming "composition." As an intellectual guide, she was my greatest inspiration; and other pupils felt no less enthusiastic over this "born teacher" and devoted Christian.

Our history class was memorable. This was her favorite branch-in teaching it she was thoroughly individual, making the lesson vivid, even to the dullest mind. Often she was very humorous, at other times pathetic even to tears, as she depicted great characters and achievements vital to the progress of humanity.

The "examination day," just previous to Commencement was the climax of all that I had known. Our "middle class," was seated on the high platform of the great study hall. My aunt went to the opposite end, and in her clear voice called out the topics by number. We had to speak loud enough to be heard throughout the room, or she would not allow us to proceed. Mother was present and this was a day of joy to her, for she could see how hard her girls had worked. I had an essay on "Originality of Thought and Action," also a little poem, "Lighting the Lamps," written on a sweet evening as I watched from my window that city sight to me so novel. This was read by my friend, Anna Barnes, one of the leading pupils.

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Lighting the Lamps.

Sitting by my window,
On a summer eve,
List'ning to the billow,
List'ning to the breeze;
Dark the shadows falling,

Bright the stars and clear,
Men have ceased their toiling,
To their homes draw near;
Hear the drowsy beating

Of the city's heart,
As the hours are fleeting,
And 'tis growing dark.

See! a light is gleaming
Down the fading street!
Ah! 'tis brighter beaming,
Guiding weary feet.
Wake from out thy dreaming!

Wander not away!

Soul of mine, what seeming
For this night of May.
Let the light now shining,

Glist'ning through the gloom,

'Round thee gently twining,

Cause thee not to roam.

But notwithstanding all that is honestly avowed in the foregoing lines, my heart ached when I left Milwaukee, and I was downright sorry to go home.

My journal of the last days reads thus:

Milwaukee, July 16, 1857.-Terrible times preparing for examination. I have studied hard, and ought to do well. How will it be? I pause for a reply. Practiced reading my composition on the rostrum, reviewed my history, geology and botany for examination; meltingly warm; all the seats are taken out of the school-room. Father and mother came and stayed a few moments and then went out to Mr. Gifford's. Later.-Nice times thus far; have recited botany, geology and history. Father only heard me in history; mother, in everything.

July 23.-Left the city at half-past ten. Felt fully as bad as when I left home, even worse.

It seemed as if I had here found "where to stand,” and among noble mates. Marion Wolcott, Belle Flanders, Lizzie