Her son, lately deceased, once told me that when she felt called upon to chastise him for some childish offense, she would pray over him so long that he would cry out: ‘Mother, it's time to begin whipping.’
Her husband was a son of General Nathanael Greene, of Revolutionary fame.
The attention bestowed upon impressions of childhood to-day will, I hope, justify me in recording some of the earliest points in consciousness which I still recall I remember when a thimble was first given to me, some simple bit of work being at the same time placed in my hand. Some one said, ‘Take the needle in this hand.’ I did so, and, placing the thimble on a finger of the other hand, I began to sew without its aid, to the amusement of my teacher. This trifle appears to me an early indication of a want of perception as to the use of tools which has accompanied me through life. I remember also that, being told that I must ask pardon for some childish fault, I said to my mother, with perfect contentment, ‘Oh yes, I pardon you,’ and was surprised to hear that in this way I had not made the amende honorable.
I encountered great difficulty in acquiring the
