As they walked arm in arm before me, I lifted
my eyes from my father's heels to his head, and mused: "How tall
he is! and how long his coat looks! and how many thousand,
thousand stitches there must be in his coat and pantaloons! And I
suppose I have got to grow up and have a husband, and put all
those little stitches into his coats and pantaloons. Oh, I never,
never can do it!" A shiver of utter discouragement went through
me. With that task before me, it hardly seemed to me as if life
were worth living. I went on to meeting, and I suppose I forgot
my trouble in a hymn, but for the moment it was real. It was not
the only time in my life that I have tired myself out with
crossing bridges to which I never came. real. It was not the only time inmy
life that I have tired myself out with crossing brid,es to which I never
came.
Another trial confronted me in the shape of an ideal but
impossible patchwork quilt. We learned to sew patchwork at
school, while we were learning the alphabet; and almost every
girl, large or small, had a bed-quilt of her own begun, with an
eye to future house furnishing.
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