CHAPTER VII.
MOTHERHOOD.
We found my sister Harriet in a new home in Clinton Place (Eighth Street), New York city, then considered so far up town that Mr.Eaton's friends were continually asking him why he went so far away from the social center, though in a few months they followed him.

Here we passed a week.

I especially enjoyed seeing my little niece and nephew, the only grandchildren in the family.

The girl was the most beautiful child I ever saw, and the boy the most intelligent and amusing.

He was very fond of hearing me recite the poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes entitled "The Height of the Ridiculous," which I did many times, but he always wanted to see the lines that almost killed the man with laughing.