sinner, I would that I might feel it myself. Indeed I do consider
myself such a bad creature that I can not see any who seems
worse.--And we had a new scholar to witness this scene!
Think of causing all this anguish and humiliation to a young girl
because she did not know the rule for dotting an i!
2nd mo. 15th day.--This day I call myself eighteen. It seems
impossible that I can be so old, and even at this age I find myself
possessed of no more knowledge than I ought to have had at twelve.
Dr. Allen, a Phrenologist, gave us a short lecture this morning and
examined a few heads, mine among them. He described only the good
organs and said nothing of the bad. I should like to know the whole
truth.
Susan relates with a good deal of satisfaction that she has written a
letter to a schoolmate at home, without putting it on the slate for the
teacher to see. A few days later Deborah sends for her. She "went down
with cheerfulness," but what was her astonishment to see Deborah with
the intercepted letter open in her hand! Susan closes her account of
the interview by saying, "Little did I think, when I was writing that
letter, that I was committing such an enormous crime."
Learning that a young friend had married a widower with six children,
she comments in her diary, "I should think any female would rather live
and die an old maid." She has a cold and cough for which Deborah gives
her a "Carthartick," followed by some "Laudanum in a silver spoon."
"The beautiful spring weather," she says, "inhales me with fresh
vigor." She sees some spiderwebs in the schoolroom and, her domestic
habits asserting themselves, gets a broom and mounts the desks to sweep
them down, "little thinking of the mortification and tears it was to
occasion." Finally she steps upon Deborah's desk and breaks the hinges
on the lid. That personage is informed by an assistant teacher and
arrives on the scene:
"Deborah, I have broken your desk." She appeared not to notice me,
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