Moreover, I was very ambitious. I wanted to know everything that was going on about me. This has ever been my characteristic. I was born inquisitive. I have never been afraid to ask questions. If I ever saw anything I did not understand, I asked about it; and the information stuck in my mind, like a burr. I never forgot. I soon learned everything there was to be learned on the farm.
The room I slept in was a great wide one, and I slept alone. I was not afraid; but I remember the great size and depth of that cold New England room.
Life on the farm was busy enough. I often set the table and did other things that the hired girl did, and could soon do almost everything just as well as she--from setting the table to preparing a meal. All this I learned before I was ten years old. I mention these little details merely to show the difference between the life I had to lead in old New England and the life my children and grandchildren have since led.
One blessing and glory was that I had the universal atmosphere. The woods and fields were mine. I could roam in the forest and over the fields at will. The great farm was a delight to me. I was never afraid anywhere. In those days there were no "hoboes" or "hoodlums" roaming over the country. We kept no locks on our doors, or clasps on the windows. Everything was open.
On the farm, as about the house, I soon learned everything that I could. I learned to sow and reap, to plant various crops, to plow, hoe, mow, harvest. And I had a special garden of my own, where I raised a little of everything--onions, lettuce, cucumbers, parsnips, and other vegetables. I knew their seasons, the time to plant them, and when to gather them. I was an observer from the cradle. Little escaped my eyes. And I have made it a practise all through my life to master everything as I came to it.
Of books I saw little in those days. The only ones we had on the farm place, in what was termed by courtesy the "library," were the Waverley Novels, Jane Porter's Scottish Chiefs, Watts's Hymns, and the Bible. There was, of course, Zion's Herald, the religious weekly paper from Boston I have already mentioned. These were our literature. I read everything I could get hold of, and soon exhausted the small resources of the farm library.