. Recollections of Auton House . me so that I screamed with Betsey said C. Auton was hungry, — so I was instantly laidon my back again and filled up with milk and water. She dexter-ously caught the overflowing streams in the pap-spoon, as theymeandered down the corners of rny mouth, and scooped them clev-erly back again into their proper channel, saying all the time, There ! there ! Then I was jounced and trotted at a pleasantfamily gait, until my little crowded, wheezing, and rolling stomachhad wrestled with and overcome the lacteal ocean poured into it —when Miss Betsey eased


. Recollections of Auton House . me so that I screamed with Betsey said C. Auton was hungry, — so I was instantly laidon my back again and filled up with milk and water. She dexter-ously caught the overflowing streams in the pap-spoon, as theymeandered down the corners of rny mouth, and scooped them clev-erly back again into their proper channel, saying all the time, There ! there ! Then I was jounced and trotted at a pleasantfamily gait, until my little crowded, wheezing, and rolling stomachhad wrestled with and overcome the lacteal ocean poured into it —when Miss Betsey eased up, and my internal revolutions ceased. The deep mahogany cradle in which allthe Auton-babies passed their youngerdays stands out like a telegraph polealong the path of my earliest , that wonderful cradle ! Oh, that deep,respectable cradle ! Oh, that rich, mahog-any cradle! Its color, acquired by age,and the constant rubbing of little boystrousers, resembled that of the wonderfulgingerbread which Old Rosannah, the. 12 RECOLLECTIONS OF AUTON HOUSE. cook, used to bake for us, and nothing could be richer than hood of that rocking hammock had a graceful slant. Thebrass handles at either end were bright as bright could be. Theroof was fastened with brass-headed nails, and the rockers had justthe right bevel to invite slumber. One of the roof-boards wascracked, and the light played through the aperture — first dark-ness, then light, then darkness, then light — as our baby-headswent wagging to and fro while Miss Betsey did the rocking. Talk about the sweet slumber which follows honest toil! It isnothing to the peaceful naps in that old cradle. I can see it nowwith its clean draperies wooing us to its soft embrace. Before Miss Betsey laid us in it she leaned forward to make itup, while the baby hung dangling and dozing over her left armthe while. First came the long bolster-pillow in the body of thecradle. Then the shorter one at the top, with a little soft v


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