of “Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,” and how it brought the tears to her eyes.
At Niagara Falls
she asked Dr. Francis
, “Who made that great hole where the water came down?”
and was told “The great Maker of all!”
This puzzled her, and she inquired further, but when her friend said, “Do you not know?
Our father who art in heaven!”
she “felt that she ought to have known, and went away somewhat abashed.”
She remembered a visit to Red Jacket
, the famous Indian chief, at his encampment.
was given a twist of tobacco tied with blue ribbon, which she was to present to him. At sight of the tall, dignified savage, the child sprang forward and threw her arms round his neck, to the great discomfiture of both; baby as she was, Julia
felt at once that her embrace was unexpected and unwelcome.
Sometimes they went to the pleasant farm at Jamaica
, Long Island
, where Lieutenant-Colonel Ward
was living at this time, with his unmarried sons, and his two daughters, Phoebe
was an invalid saint.
She lived in a darkened room, and the plates and dishes from which she ate were of brown china or crockery, as she fancied her eyes could not bear white.
Anne was equally pious, but more normal.
She it was who managed the farm, and who would always bring the cheeses to New York herself for the market, lest any of the family grow proud and belittle the dignity of honest work.
It is from Jamaica
that Mrs. Ward
writes to her