And if there were the least flaw of crystal in the pencil, she found it, and bore down so hard that what she wrote never would come off.
The Lord always seemed bigger and more majestic to me, than at any other time, when I remembered that He could have known all that, and yet smiled as He loaned Clarissa His slate.

And that old Bible thing meant, too, that if you would like it if you were travelling a long way, say to California to hunt gold, or even just to Indiana, to find a farm fit to live on--it meant that if you were tired, hungry, and sore, and would want to be taken in and fed and rested, you had to let in other people when they reached your house.

Father and mother had been through it themselves, and they must have been tired as could be, before they reached Sarah Hood's and she took them in, and rested and fed them, even when they were only a short way from the top of the Little Hill, where next morning they looked down and stopped the wagon, until they chose the place to build their house.

Sarah Hood came along, and helped mother all day, so by night she was settled in the old cabin that was on the land, and ready to go to work making money to build a new one, and then a big house, and fix the farm all beautiful like it was then.

They knew so well how it felt, that they kept one bed in the boys' room, and any man who came at dusk got his supper, to sleep there, and his breakfast, and there never was anything to pay.
The girls always scolded dreadfully about the extra washing, but mother said she slept on sheets when she came out, and some one washed them.
One time Sally said: "Mother, have you ever figured out how many hundred sheets you've washed since, to pay for that ?" Mother said: "No, but I just hope it will make a stack high enough for me to climb from into Heaven." Sally said: "The talk at the church always led me to think that you flew to Heaven." Mother answered: "So I get there, I don't mind if I creep." Then Sally knew it was time to stop.