1906. Curtis is also the author of The Grandpa's Little Girls Books. The story begins: Mrs. Burton sat down by the east window, which faced the road leading to the village, and leaned back in her comfortable rocking-chair with a sigh of content. Soap-making is a dreadful job, she said aloud, although there was no one to respond to the remark. I declare it is, she continued, after a moment's silence, my ashes didn't seem as good as common this year. The way that lye acts I shouldn't say there was a bit of strength to it. She swayed back and forth leisurely and turned an appreciative eye toward a crabapple tree near the window, now covered with fragrant pink blossoms.