Kate said one day that she did not care, in reading, to be always making new acquaintances, but to be seeing more of old ones; and I think it is a very wise idea.  We each have our pet books; Kate carries with her a much-worn copy of “Mr. Rutherford’s Children,” which has been her delight ever since she can remember.  Sibyl and Chryssa are dear old friends, though I suppose now it is not merely what Kate reads, but what she associates with the story.  I am not often separated from Jean Ingelow’s “Stories told to a Child,” that charmingly wise and pleasant little book.  It is always new, like Kate’s favorite.  It is very hard to make a list of the books one likes best, but I remember that we had “The Village on the Cliff,” and “Henry Esmond,” and “Tom Brown at Rugby,” with his more serious ancestor, “Sir Thomas Browne.”  I am sure we had “Fenelon,” for we always have that; and there was “Pet Marjorie,” and “Rab,” and “Annals of a Parish,” and “The Life of the Reverend Sydney Smith”; beside Miss Tytler’s “Days of Yore,” and “The Holy and Profane State,” by Thomas Fuller, from which Kate gets so much entertainment and profit.  We read Mr. Emerson’s essays together, out of doors, and some stories which had been our dear friends at school, like “Leslie Goldthwaite.”  There was a very good library in the house, and we both like old books, so we enjoyed that.  And we used to read the Spectator, and many old-fashioned stories and essays and sermons, with much more pleasure because they had such quaint old brown leather bindings.  You will not doubt that we had some cherished volumes of poetry, or that we used to read them aloud to each other when we sat in our favorite corner of the rocks at the shore, or were in the pine woods of an afternoon.

We used to go out to tea, and do a great deal of social visiting, which was very pleasant.  Dinner-parties were not in fashion, though it was a great attention to be asked to spend the day, which courtesy we used to delight in extending to our friends; and we entertained company in that way often.  When we first went out we were somewhat interesting on account of our clothes, which were of later pattern than had been adopted generally in Deephaven.  We used to take great pleasure in arraying ourselves on high days and holidays, since when we went wandering on shore, or out sailing or rowing, we did not always dress as befitted our position in the town.  Fish-scales and blackberry-briers so soon disfigure one’s clothes.

We became in the course of time learned in all manner of ’longshore lore, and even profitably employed ourselves one morning in going clam-digging with old Ben Horn, a most fascinating ancient mariner.  We both grew so well and brown and strong, and Kate and I did not get tired of each other at all, which I think was wonderful, for few friendships would bear such a test.  We were together always, and alone together a great deal; and we became wonderfully well acquainted.  We are such good friends that we often were silent for a long time, when mere acquaintances would have felt compelled to talk and try to entertain each other.