And young
men and girls came, drawn by the magic that was hers, to confide in
this woman who listened with such rare tact and loving sympathy to their
troubles and their dreams, and who, in the deepest things of their young
lives, was mother to them all.
Nor were the mountain folk her only disciples. Always there were the
letters she continued to write, addressed to almost every corner of
the land. And every year there would come, for a week or a month, at
different times during the summer, men and women from the great world of
larger affairs who had need of the strength and courage and patience and
hope they never failed to find in that little log house by the river.
And so, in time, it came to be known that those letters written by
Auntie Sue went to men and women who, in their childhood school days,
had received from her their first lessons in writing; and that her
visitors, many of them distinguished in the world of railroads and
cities, were of that large circle of busy souls who had never ceased to
be her pupils.
Thus it came that the garden was made a little larger, and two rooms
were added to the house, with other modest improvements, to accommodate
Auntie Sue's grown-up boys and girls when they came to visit her. But
never was there a hired servant, so that her guests must do their own
household tasks, because, Auntie Sue said, that was good for them and
mostly what they needed.
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