CHAPTER II.
IN the summer, Grandmother rose at four, but in the winter, at five. The first thing she did was to bless herself and kiss the cross upon her rosary. This rosary she always carried with her, and at night placed it beneath her pillow. Then she dressed and said her prayers, sprinkling herself with holy water; this done, she sat down to her spinning, and sang morning hymns as she worked. Her own sleep, poor old lady! was not good; but she remembered how sweet it used to be when she was young, and so was always glad to let others enjoy it.
After she had been up almost an hour, a light step was heard, one door squeaked, then another, and in a moment more, Grandmother stood at the kitchen door. At that instant the geese sneezed, the hogs grunted, the cows lowed, the chickens shook their wings, and the cats, coming from somewhere, rubbed themselves against her feet. The dogs jumped out of their kennel and at one bound were by her side; if she had not been careful, they would have knocked her over and scattered the grain which she had for the poultry. She was very fond of all these animals, and they seemed equally fond of her. She could not bear to see any creature harmed, no, not even a worm! She would say: "What is injurious to man, or must be killed for food, with God's will kill it, but let it not
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