Every Day Life in the Colonies (USA) by Gertrude L. Stone and M. Grace Fickett - 1906

7/28/2019 Every Day Life in the Colonies (USA) by Gertrude L. Stone and M. Grace Fickett - 1906

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EVERY DAY LIFEIN THECOLONIES

BYGERTRUDE L. STONEANDM. GRACE FICKETT

BOSTON, U. S. A.D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS

1905


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LIBRARY of CONGflt>STwo Coutes rt


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Preface

Each faculty should receive its training at the timeof its greatest natural activity. The imagination ismost in evidence in cliildhood. It is charged thatchiklhood is disappearing in this country. Studentsof childlife warn us that the zest, joys, and imagin-ings natural to children find but small place in thelives of our young people and that too many of themare old before they have had time to be young. Thetired look seen in the eyes, the weary and wrinkledappearance of the face, the nervous and erratic move-ments of the limbs indicate an unnatural condition inmany of our young people. The school is not respon-sible for all these unfortunate results. The home, thechurch, and the school should seek a remedy for theevils.

It will be a sad day for the chiklren when they nolonger find great delight in learning what the boysand girls of former days thought, felt, and did.Something is wrong when little people cease to havethe keenest interest in the pastimes, occupations, ap-parel, and homes of the cliihlren of long ago and in

iii


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iv PREFACEall the details which made up their daily life. One ofthe most efficient agencies in winning children tosimple and wholesome living may be the book thatrecords the story of childlife in earlier days in a wayto enlist the sympathy of the reader.The present candidate for favor in this field of

service should receive a cordial welcome. It tellsgraphically and in attractive form how the children ofNew England spent their Christmas and with whatceremonies they marked the occasion. These pageshelp our boys and girls to see how this festival hasbeen extended and in what ways it has been elabo-rated.

No child of average intelligence can read the ac-count of the dame school without being able to closehis eyes and see the face and figure of the mistress,the quaint appearance of the children, to make a pic-ture of the room in which the school assembled andlisten to the routine work of the day.Our children will learn some new lessons as they

study the old-time observance of the Sabbath. Itwill be encouraging if the contrasts and comparisonsinduce in them somewhat of the spirit of reverenceand devotion that was manifest in colonial days. Therestraints of the olden time were too severe ; thelicense of the present has its fruits in unwarranted ex-


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PREFACE Vcesses. A study of the two periods should make pos-sible better conduct on the part of our coming citizens.Every normal child will be delighted with the

sketches which are giv^en of soap and candle-making,will be glad to know how the colonists told time with-out a clock, how children wrote their letters in thelong ago, and with what anxiety travelers preparedfor journeys. The fate of the poor debtor's childrenwill make little readers sorry for suffering, and thank-ful that cruel laws do not permit such injustice inthese days. The story of the Indian attack on Sacowill give a new beauty and significance to Whittier'sfamous poem.The book will also develop that sympathy and in-

terest which are the true basis of all historical study.It is fortunate that children like incidents, stories,sketches, descriptions of life ; that they are eager toknow how people looked and lived and worked, andthat they are concerned about the joys and sorrows,hopes and fears of their ancestors when they too were3^oung. Ahen the time comes for the formal study ofhistory, the children w4io have read this book will findthemselves traveling over familiar ground and will in-terpret w4mt they read in the light of what they know.

It is with heartiest approval that this volume is pre-sented to school officials, teachers, and parents for the


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vi PREFACEchildren of this country. May it be as helpful to themas it has proved interesting to, at least, one reader.The word pictures are vivid and suggestive, the illus-trations are well wrought out, and the lessons arestimulating and clearly taught. It is a piece of workof which the profession should feel proud.

W. W. Stetson.


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Authors' NoteBelieving that the subject matter of this book is

such as lends itself readily to reproduction, either oralor written, the authors have prepared a series of lan-guage exercises which are printed as an appendix. Itis hoped that teachers who wish to correlate the workin reading and language may find these outlines notonly practical but suggestive.

G. L. S.M. G. F.

Gorham Normal Schoolj Maine, 3Iay, 1905.

vn


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Contents

The First New England Christmas (1620)Dorothy's Hornbook .A Puritan Sabbath (About 1668)Soap-Making at the Rowlands'When the Indians Fell on SacoCandle-Making at the Coolidges'Telling Time Without a Clock .Two Letters of Long Ago (1743)A May Day Journey (1727) .The Poor Debtor's Children (1733)Appendix

PAGE1

1327364261697994

103115

IX


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Illustrations

On the Deck of the '^ Mayflower" .Dorothy's Hornbook ....^N'athaniel and the Man in the StocksWhen the Indians fell on SacoPatience Sees the Candles MadeTelling Time with the SundialChristina Writing Her LetterThe Maypole Dance ....John and Julia Leaving London

Facing page. 10

1824466674

98108

XI


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Life in the Colonies

THE FIRST NEW ENGLAND CHRISTMASIt was a warm and pleasant Saturdaythat

twenty-third of December, 1620. The winterwind had blown itself away in the storm of theday before, and the air was clear and balmy.The people on board the Mcmifloiuer were glad

of the pleasant day. It was three long monthssince they had started from Plymouth, in Eng-land, to seek a home across the ocean. Nowthey had come into a harbor that they namedNew Plymouth, in the country of New England.

Other people called these voyagers Pilgrims,which means wanderers. A long while before,the Pilgrims had lived in England ; later theymade their home with the Dutch in Holland ;finally they had said good-bye to their friendsin Holland and in England, and had sailed awayto America.

1


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2 LIFE IN THE COLONIESThere were only one hundred and two of the

Pilgrims on the Mayjlower ; but they were braveand strong and full of hope. Now the May-floiver was the only home they had ; yet if thisweather lasted they might soon have warm log-cabins to live in. This very afternoon the menhad gone ashore to cut down the large trees.The women of the Mayfloiver were busy, too.Some were spinning, some knitting, some sew-

ing. It was so bright and pleasant that MistressRose Standish had taken her knitting and hadgone to sit a little while on deck. She was tooweak to face rough weather, and she wanted toenjoy the warm sunshine and the clear salt air.By her side was Mistress Brewster, the minister'swife. Everybody loved Mistress Standish andMistress Brewster, for neither of them everspoke unkindly.The air on deck would have been warm even

on a colder day, for in one corner a bright firewas burning. It would seem strange now, wouldit not, to see a fire on the deck of a vessel ? Butin those days, when the weather was pleasant,people on shipboard did their cooking on deck.The Pilgrims had no stoves, and Mistress

Carver's maid had built this fire on a largehearth covered with sand. She had hung a


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THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 3great kettle on the crane over the fire, wherethe onion soup for supper was now simmeringslowly.

Near the fire sat a little girl, husily playingand singing to herself. Little Remember Aller-ton was only six years old, but she liked to bewith Hannah, Mistress Carver's maid. Thisafternoon Remember had been watching Han-nah build the fire and make the soup. Nowthe little girl was playing with the Indianarrowheads her father had brought her thenight before. She was singing the words of theold psalm :

''Shout to Jeliovab, all the earth.Serve ye Jehovah with gladness ; beforehim bow with singing mirth."

'' Ah, child, methinks the children of OldEngland are singing different words from thoseto-day," spoke Hannah at length, with a far-away look in her eyes.

'' Why, Hannah ? What songs are the littleEnglish children singing now ? " questionedRemember in surprise.

*' It lacks but two days of Christmas, child,and in my old home everybody is singingmerry Christmas songs."


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4 LIFE IN THE COLONIES" Bat thou hast not told me what is Christ-

mas? " persisted the child." Ah, me ! Thou dost not know, 'tis true.Christmas, Remember, is the birthday of theChrist-child, of Jesus whom thou hast learnedto love," Hannah answered softly.

" But what makes the English children sohappy then ? And we are English, thou hasttold me, Hannah. Why don't we keep Christ-mas, too? "

'^ In sooth we are English, child. But thereason why we do not sing the Christmas carolsor play the Christmas games makes a long, longstory, Remember. Hannah cannot tell it so thatlittle children will understand. Thou must asksome other, child."Hannah and the little girl were just then near

the two women on the deck, and Remember said,'* Mistress Brewster, Hannah sayeth she know-

eth not how to tell w^hy Love and Wrestling andConstance and the others do not sing the Christ-mas songs or play the Christmas games. Butthou wilt tell me, wilt thou not?" she addedcoaxingly.A sad look came into Mistress Brewster's eyes,and Mistress Standish looked grave, too. Noone spoke for a few seconds, until Hannah said


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THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 5almost sharply, " Why could we not burn aYule log Monday, and make some meal into littlecakes for the children ? "

" Nay, Hannah," answered the gentle voice ofMistress Brewster. '' Such are but vain showsand not for those of us who believe in holierthings. But," she added, with a kind glance atlittle Remember, '' wouldst thou like to knowwhy we have left old England and do not keepthe Christmas Day? Thou canst not under-stand it all, child, and yet it may do thee noharm to hear the story. It may help thee to bea brave and happy little girl in the midst of ourhard life."

'' Surely it can do no harm, Mistress Brew-ster," spoke Rose Standish, gently. '* Remem-ber is a little Pilgrim now, and she ought, me-thinks, to know something of the reason for ourwandering. Come here, child, and sit by me,while good Mistress Brewster tells thee howcruel men have made us suffer. Then will Ising thee one of the Christmas carols."With these words she held out her hands to

little Remember, who ran quickly to the side ofMistress Standish, and eagerly waited for thestory to begin.


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LIFE IN THE COLONIESII

'' We have not always lived in Holland, Re-member. Most of us were born in England,and England is the best country in the world.'Tis a land to be proud of, Remember, thoughsome of its rulers have been wicked and cruel.

" Long before you were born, when yourmother was a little girl, the English king saidthat everybody in the land ought to think as hethought, and go to a church like his. He saidhe would send us away from England if we didnot do as he ordered. Now we could notthink as he did on holy matters, and it seemedwrong to us to obey him. So we decided togo to a country where we might worship as wepleased."

*' What became of that cruel king. MistressBrewster?"

" He ruleth England now. But tliou mustnot think too hardly of him. He doth not un-derstand, perhaps. Right will win some day,Remember, though there may be bloody war be-fore peace cometh. And I thank God that we,at least, shall not be called on to live in themidst of the strife," she went on, speaking moreto herself than to the little girl.


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THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 7*' We decided to go to Holland, out of the

reach of the king. We were not sure whether itwas best to move or not, but our hearts were seton God's ways. We trusted Him in whom webelieved. Yes," she went on, '' and shall we notkeep on trusting Him ? "And Rose Standish, remembering the little

stock of food that was nearly gone, the diseasethat had come upon many of their number, andthe five who had died that month, answeredfirmly : " Yes. He who has led us thus farwill not leave us now."They were all silent a few seconds. Presently

Remember said, '' Then did ye go to Holland,Mistress Brewster? "

" Yes," she said. '^ Our people all Avent overto Holland, where the Dutch folk live and tlielittle Dutch children clatter about with theirwooden shoes. There thou wast born, Remem-ber, and my own children, and there we lived inlove and peace.

" And yet, we were not wholly happy. Wecould not talk well with the Dutch, and so Avecould not set right what was wrong amongthem. 'Twas so hard to earn money that manyhad to go back to England. And worst of all.Remember, we were afraid that you and little


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8 LIFE IN THE COLONIESBartholomew and Mary and Love and Wrest-ling and all the rest would not grow to be goodgirls and boys. And so we have come to thisnew country to teach our children to be pureand noble."

After another silence Remember spoke again :^' I thank thee, Mistress Brewster. And I Avilltry to be a good girl. But thou didst not tellme about Christmas, after all."

" Nay, child, but now I will. There are longservices on that day in every church where theking's friends go. But there are parts of theseservices which we cannot approve ; and so wethink it best not to follow the other customs thatthe king's friends observe on Christmas.

^' They trim their houses with mistletoe andholly so that everything looks gay and cheerful.Their other name for the Christmas time is theYule-tide, and the big log that is burned thenis called the Yule log. The children like tosit around the hearth in front of the great,blazing Yule log, and listen to stories of long,long ago.

'' At Christmas there are great feasts in Eng-land, too. No one is allowed to go hungry, forthe rich people on that day always send meatand cakes to the poor folk round about.


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THE FIRST CHRISTMAS'' But we like to make all our days Christmas

days, Remember. We try never to forget God'sgifts to us, and they remind us always to be goodto other people."

Ill

'' And the Christmas carols, Mistress Standish ?What are they ? "'' On Christmas eve and early on Christmas

morning," Rose Standish answered, '' little chil-dren go about from house to house, singingChristmas songs. Tis what I like best in allthe Christmas cheer. And I promised to singthee one, did I not? "Then Mistress Standish sang in her clear,

sweet voice the quaint old English words :

As Joseph was a-walking,He heard an angel sing :"This night shall be the birth-timeOf Christ, the heavenly King.

''He neither shall be bornIn housen nor in hall,

Nor in the place of Paradise,But in an ox's stall.


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10 LIFE IN THE COLONIES"He neither shall be clothed

In purple nor in i)all,But in the fair white linenThat usen babies all.

" He neither shall be rockedIn silver nor in gold,

But in a wooden mangerThat resteth in the mould."

As Joseph was a-walkingThere did an angel sing,And Mary's child at midnightWas born to be our King.

Then be ye glad, good people,This night of all the year.And light ye up your candk^s.For His star it shineth clear.

Before the song was over, Hannah had comeon deck again, and was listening eagerly. " Ithank thee, Mistress Standish," she said, thetears filling her blue eyes. *' 'Tis long indeedsince I have heard that song."

'' Would it be wrong for me to learn to singthose words, Mistress Standish ? " gently ques-tioned the little girl.

'' Nay, Remember, I trow not. The songshall be thy Christmas gift."


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On the peck of the " Mayflower."


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THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 11Then Mistress Standish taught the little girl

one verse after another of the sweet old carol,and it was not long before Remember could sayit all.The next day was dull and cold, and on Mon-

day, the twenty-fifth, the sky was still overcast.There was no bright Yule log in the Mayflower,and no holly trimmed the little cabin.The Pilgrims were true to the faith they loved.

They held no special service. They made nogifts. Instead, they went again to the work ofcutting the trees, and no one murmured at hishard lot.

'^ We went on shore," one man wrote in hisdiary, '' some to fell timber, some to saw, someto rive, and some to carry ; so no man rested allthat day."As for little Remember, she spent the day on

board the Mayflower. She heard no one speakof England or sigh for the Englisli home acrossthe sea. But she did not forget Mistress Brew-ster's story ; and more than once that day, as shewas playing by herself, she fancied that she wasin front of some English home, helping theEnglish children sing their Christmas songs.And both Mistress Allerton and MistressStandish, whom God was soon to call away from


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12 LIFE IN THE COLONIEStheir earthly home, felt happier and stronger asthey heard the little girl singing :

''He neither shall be bornIn housen nor in hall,

Nor in the place of Paradise,But in an ox's stall."

Learn :God wills it : here our rest shall be,Our years of wandering o'er,

For us the Mayfloicer of the seaShall spread her sails no more.John Greenleaf Whitfier.


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DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK

Dorothy Parker began to go to school theday she was four years old. Her birthday camein May, and it was a bright spring morningwhen she started with her sister Faith to walkto the dame's school a mile away. This oddnamea dame's schoolmeant that the schoolwas taught by a woman, and that it was keptfor the little children and the older girls.

Dorothy's brother Jonathan went to a master,but Jonathan was learning Latin, because hewas to go to Harvard College. Nothing wastaught in the dame's school but reading, writ-ing, and casting accounts,no music, no draw-ing, no nature study. The minister's daughtertaught the school in a room in the parsonageand all the little children that Dorothy knewwent to this school.Dorothy enjoyed the walk. Part of the way

the path lay through the woods and was markedby notches cut in the trees, just as the Indians

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14 LIFE IN THE COLONIESblazed their paths through the deeper forests.Overhead the song sparrows, bluebirds, and cat-birds were flying to and fro with straws andthreads for their nests. A catbird whistled toDorothy in such a sociable manner that shethought he might be saying, " Such a little,little girl to go to school, school, school 1 "Dorothy felt quite grown-up by the time she

reached the parsonage, though her feet draggedrather heavily and her dinner-pail seemed tohave more dinner in it than when she lefthome. She took off" her hat and the school-mistress gave her a seat. Now she would learnto read !

School began, and the teacher was soon busywith the other pupils. She seemed to have for-gotten Dorothy. The little girl watched andwaited patiently, but at last the schoolmistressseemed a long way ofl" and her voice was so faraway that it could hardly be heard. Dorothy'shead nodded to the right, then to the left, andthen she was fast asleep.When she awoke, it was the noon hour andFaith had the dinner-pail in her hand.

" Come out of doors," she said, and Dorothygladly followed.

In the afternoon Dorothy stood on the floor


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DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 15with a class of little children, but as she didnot know what they had already learned inschool, she could not recite. On the whole, itwas such a very disappointing day that Dorothycould hardly keep back the tears when she toldher mother that she had not learned to read.Her mother smiled. " Rome was not built in

a day," she said soothingly, and then, turningto Faith, she added, '' Dorothy must have thehornbook to-morrow."Dorothy understood both remarks. She knew

that the first meant she must not be in too muchof a hurry. How many times she had heardthat before ! She knew also that her motherhad really promised that to-morrow she shouldhave the precious hornbook dangling from herneck just as Faith had worn it when she firstwent to school.

II

Think of wearing your primer on a cordaround your neck ! That was what Dorothywas so proud to do. Think of calling thatprimer a book, when it was not a book at all,but just a single page !The hornbook was the only kind of primer


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16 LIFE IN THE COLONIESthe school children had in those days. Whenthe strange primer was hung around Dorothy'sneck, in order that she might carry it safely toschool, it really looked more like a toy thananything else. There was only one printedpage. A thin piece of wood was put behindthe sheet of paper to keep it smooth, and overthe printing was spread a sheet of horn so thinthat the letters could be seen through it.

Printing cost so much in those days that thelittle sheet must be kept safe from wet or dirtyfingers. But glass was costly, too, and so thethin covering of horn was used. A frame ofbrass was put around the whole, and the woodenback had a handle at the bottom. The horn-book looked like a little hand mirror. A veryodd primer

!

Dorothy wore her hornbook to school thesecond day. A new cord had been put throughthe hole in the end of the little wooden handle,and the hornbook hung like a very large locketaround Dorothy's fat little neck.The string was so long that Dorothy could

hold her primer in her hand and study it with-out taking off the cord.The one little printed page that made Doro-

thy's whole primer was scarcely more than half


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DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 17as large as a page of our books. Yet it seemedto her that there was a great deal on it to learn.There was not a single thing she could tell ex-cept the crosses in the two upper corners.

This second morning the teacher called Doro-thy to her side. The little girl went eagerly.She had been holding tight the handle of thehornbook and waiting since school began, to findout how to read.

'^ What can you read in your ' Criss CrossRow'?" asked the teacher, using the name oftengiven to the hornbook page because of the twocrosses in the upper corners.

'' Nothing," faltered Dorothy, '' except thecrosses."

'' That is not reading," severely replied theteacher. '' To learn to read you must learn yourletters first."

Using a knitting needle for a pointer, shebegan at the top of the page where the alphabetwas printed in both capitals and small letters.She taught Dorothy big A and little a for herfirst lesson. Learning to read was not at all likewhat Dorothy had expected. She wanted tocry, but she was too proud.


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18 LIFE IN THE COLONIESIII

If Dorothy had gone to school when her owndaughter's daughter went, she would have hada real book with pictures. Perhaps there wouldhave been a picture of an acorn and a picture ofa boy and the rhyme :

" A is au Acorn that grew on an oak,B is a Boy who delights in his book."This surely would have given some help inlearning A and B.

It would have been easier still if Dorothy hadlearned to read in these days, for nobody wouldhave troubled her with the letters at all. Shewould have begun at once with little stories,just as she expected to do.

It seemed very stupid to keep saying thealphabet. Round O and curly S, to be sure,were easy, but how could any one ever tell whichwas little b and which was little d f

There were days when Dorothy wished shelived where little girls had no hornbooks. Atlast she knew that the hump was on the rightside of b and on the left side of d ; and she knewalso the sounds of the easy syllables in the nextline, a-b, ab^ o-b, ob, and all the others.


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Dorothy's Hok^book.


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DOROTHY'S HORNBOOK 19There were more lines on the hornbook page,

and they took a long time to learn, because onewas a line that held all the figures, and the lowerpart of the page contained the Lord's Prayer.The day she was five years old Dorothy read

to her grandfather everything on the hornbookfrom the cross in the upper left hand corner tothe Amen at the end of the prayer.

'' Grandfather is proud of his little grand-daughter," said the old man with delight whenthe child had finished. '' She has called everyword as it is on the page."

*' Perhaps," said Dorothy a little doubtfully,'' I couldn't have read all the Prayer if I hadnot heard you say it so many times."Her grandfather smiled. *' By another birth-

day you will feel sure of every word, I think,and then you must have a book of your veryown."

Doroth}'' said very little about her book, butshe kept hoping that it would be a book of thePsalms like the copy Faith had, even to theblack cover with a gilt cross.She was an earnest little pupil, and when her

next birthday came, she did know every word,even when it was outside the prayer,as hergrandfather had prophesied. She could also


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20 LIFE IN THE COLONIESread some easy stories in a book the school-mistress lent her.One May morning her grandfather called

her to him and said, '' This is yours, Dorothy."Dorothy, of course, looked at the object he

held in his hand, and her eyes shone as she sawthere a little black Psalm book.

'' You must do your reading in this now,"grandfather said smilingly, '' for Solace musthave the hornbook this spring when he beginsto go to school."

Learn :Nor let them fall under Discouragement,Who at their Hornbook stick, and time hath spent,Upon that A B C, while others doInto their Primer or their Psalter go.John Bunyan (1686).


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A PURITAN SABBATH

'* Is that grandmother at the corner, Na-thaniel?" asked Mistress Mather one pleasantmorning in June.

*^ Yes, mother, and she is turning this way.May I go to meet her? "Of course Mistress Mather said yes, and Na-

thaniel ran as fast as he could towards thecorner. In a few moments back he came, hold-ing to his grandmother's hand. But grand-mother could not spend the day ; she had comeon an errand, she said.

Pretty soon Nathaniel heard grandmothersay, '' Art thou willing, daughter Maria, thatNathaniel should stay w^ith me two or threedays ? Perhaps 'twill help him to grow stronger,and surely 'twill keep me from lonely thoughts."

'' Methinks 'twould do the child no harm,"answered Mistress Mather. '' Wouldst thoulike to spend the Sabbath with grandmother,Nathaniel ? "

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22 LIFE IN THE COLONIES"May I, mother?" asked the boy, with an

eagerness that made his mother glad.For Nathaniel had never been strong and

active like other children. That year, allthrough April and May, he had been too ill evento sit up. Though he was much better, hischeeks were still pale, and he looked frail andthin.

Just then Nathaniel's father came in. Hewas a man about whom you will read moresome time, for he was a famous minister ofBoston.He had a name that sounds odd to us now

Increase Mather. Names meant more in thoseearly days than they do now. Mr. IncreaseMather had named his oldest son, Nathaniel'sbrother. Cotton ; but that was because Grand-mother Mather was once Mistress Cotton.One of Nathaniel's uncles was born on board

the ship that brought grandmother and Mr.Cotton to America ; so they called him Seaborn.Perhaps you have heard of Oceanus Hopkinsand Peregrine White. I wonder if you knowwhat those names mean. And I trust youhave not forgotten Remember Allerton andLove and Wrestling Brewster.

It was Saturday, and a busy day for Mr.


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A PURITAN SABBATH 23Mather. He stayed only long enough to say,^' Be a good boy, Nathaniel, and do as grand-mother bids thee. ' Remember the Sabbath dayto keep it holy.' "

If you had seen the little five-year-old boytrudging along North street with his grand-mother, you would have wondered, '' Is it a girlor a boy ? " For Nathaniel was not dressed likelittle boys of to-day.He wore a skirt that came to his ankles, and

his waist had long, loose sleeves. He did notwear a hat. Instead, he had a cap tied withstrings under his chin. His shoes, too, were notlike yours. His mother had made them, andthey were more like the soft moccasins thatyour baby brother wears. They would seemclumsy to you, but I dare say Nathaniel thought,if he thought anything about it, that they werevery pretty shoes indeed.Nor was grandmother Mather dressed a bit

like your grandmother. Folded across herbreast was a large, white kerchief. But thestrangest thing about her was her hat. It wascalled steeple-crowned, for its tall, pointedcrown looked a little like a steeple.

'' See, Nathaniel ! " said grandmother sud-denly. '' There is a man in the stocks."


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24 LIFE IN THE COLONIESAs Nathaniel looked, he saw what no one of

you has ever seen. Two boards were fastenedtogether so that they looked like a piece of boardfence. Behind these boards a man was sitting,but how uncomfortable he looked ! His feetand hands were sticking out through holes inthe boards, and he could not move if he wantedto.

Being placed in the stocks was a commonpunishment in those days, and it hurt more thanyou would think. Try some time to hold anarm or a leg in the same position for a few min-utes, and then think how uncomfortable youwould be if you had to sit that way a day at atime.

'' Who is the wicked man ? And what wronghath he done, grandmother ? " asked Nathaniel.

'' I know not his name, child. But his homeis by the water-front, and last Sabbath he forgotGod's command and profaned the holy day.He sat in his doorway and went not to the meet-ing-house."

'^ I am sorry for him. But perhaps he will bea better man now, grandmother. How tired andashamed he looks ! "

'' 'Tis not easy to sit in the stocks, child, norto bear the looks of all the passers-by."


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Nathaniet. and the ManIN THE Stocks.


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A PURITAN SABBATH 25'^ I hope I shall never have to sit in the

stocks," Nathaniel said, looking very solemn.And grandmother smiled at the loving andobedient little boy as she answered, '' 1 haveno fear of that, Nathaniel."

II

The old lady and the little boy walked onslowly up the hill till they came to what is nowPemberton square. In this neighborhood, andnot far back from Tremont street. GrandmotherMather lived.

Stretching back up the hill from the housewas a large yard filled with rose bushes andapple trees. After dinner grandmother andNathaniel walked about in the garden, stoppingnow and then to smell the roses or to watch thebutterflies and humming birds.The little boy grew tired before long, and they

both sat down on the soft green grass. ThereNathaniel could watch the sea and the sky as helistened to stories about his Uncle Seaborn whichgrandmother liked so much to tell.By and by Deborah, who had lived many

years with grandmother, came to call them tosupper. By this time the town had grown very


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26 LIFE IN THE COLONIESquiet. Scarcely a sound could be heard exceptthe twittering of the birds overhead, or the softmurmur of the wind in the apple trees.

For as Nathaniel was sitting in the gardenthe Sabbath had come to many people, and workhad stopped for the week. It would come foreverybody at sunset, but at three o'clock mostpeople put their wôrk aside and began to getthemselves and their children ready for theLord's Day.

After Nathaniel had eaten his supper, he wentout to bid good-night, he said, to the sky and thesea and the flowêrs. But just as the sun wâssetting, grandmother called him in again.

Into the best room they went, and with themthe two servants, Deborah and old John. Thenthe first part of the Sabbath worship began.Grandmother made a long prayer, but not

so long, Nathaniel thought, as his father's orthose his Grandfather Mather used to make.Then they all sang a psalm, and the little boy'sclear, sweet treble sounded above the othervoices in the well-known wôrds :

^^The Lord is both my health and light ;Shall men make me dismayed !

Sith God doth give me strength and might,Why should I be afraid 1


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A PURITAN SABBATH 27Next came the time when every one was to

sit by himself a little while and think over thesins of the past week. Nothing could be heardbut the crickets chirping in the garden ; andthey seemed to say to little Nathaniel, '' Whathaveyoudone ? Whathaveyoudone ? "The little boy tried so hard to think of a timewhen he had been naughty or unkind that hefell fast asleep in his big chair. He did notwake even when John carried him upstairs, andgrandmother undressed him and tucked himinto bed.The next morning the sky and sea were as

beautiful as they had been the day before, but'' stillness was in the little town." It w^as themorning of the Sabbath and no one was stirring.^' There was no footfall, no sound of voices inthe streets."Deborah had made everything ready for

breakfast the night before, so that with few andnoiseless steps she soon placed the meal uponthe table. Nathaniel tiptoed downstairs, andclimbed into his chair with only a bow for good-morning.The breakfast was a very quiet meal. After

grandmother's long prayer at the beginning, shedid not speak again except to ask Deborah for


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28 LIFE IN THE COLONIESmore milk for Nathaniel. So of course nobodyelse spoke.After breakfast, Deborah cleared the table andgrandmother and Nathaniel went into the bestroom. Then grandmother took from the shelfa book of questions and answers about the Bible,called the catechism. Nathaniel knew thatbook, for he had seen one like it every Sundaysince he could remember.Every child had to study the catechism and

learn it by heart. Nathaniel could say a largenumber of the answers, even though the wordswere long and he could not understand themvery well.

'' Thou wilt understand them better by and by,Nathaniel," grandmother said, consolingly.

Right in the midst of a long answer, Nathanielheard a bell ring.

'' We will stop now," said grandmother. " Itis half past eight, and time to go to meeting.Find John and Deborah, Nathaniel, and we willstart."

Ill

Before long, they were all walking down the .hill to the church in North street, where Na- ji


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A PURITAN SABBATH 29thaniel's father preachedo They did not call it achurch, but a meeting-house, for there, they said,God met together with the people.

It was no new thing for Nathaniel, young ashe was, to go to meeting. His mother used totake him when he was only a baby ; and for twoyears now he had tried his best to understandthe long sermon in the morning and the secondlong one in the afternoon.

Nathaniel could not sit with grandmother inthe meeting-house, nor even with his mother.His place was with his brother Cotton and theother boys on the pulpit stairs.He stood quietly through his father's long

prayer, and then, sitting down, he listened toevery word in the Bible chapter that the otherminister read and explained. But he was gladwhen it came time for everybody to sing withthe leader :

"Likewise the lieaveus he down-bow'aud he descended: also thereWas at his feet a gloomy cloudand he on cherubs rode apace."

Then came the sermon. Nathaniel listenedAvith all his might, for he knew well that bothhis father and grandmother would ask what he


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30 LIFE IN THE COLONIESremembered about it. Besides, he was muchafraid of Goodman Merry, the tithing-man.

Every meeting-house in those days had itstithing-man. It was his business to see that no-body went to sleep and that everybody behavedwelLHe carried a long pole, with which he struck

any person on the head who was not doing ashe ought. One end of the pole was tipped withfur from a rabbit's tail. This was the end thatGoodman Merry used when he wanted to wakea tired mother or a sleepy little girl. But if hesaw a boy laughing or dozing, he struck the lit-tle fellow sharply with the other end. Thatwas hard, for it was tipped w^ith the rabbit's foot.

This very Sunday a boy laughed aloud.Down came the tithing rod with a hard thumpon his head. Nathaniel looked at the unhappyboy, and thought : *' How could he havelaughed ! And how I hope I shall not go tosleep and be hit with the hard rod ! "When Mr. Mather began to talk, he used toturn the hour-glass so that the lower part wasempty. When the sand had all run down, thechildren would say to themselves, '' Now he ishalf through." Then the minister would turnthe glass over again, and when the sand had run


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A PURITAN SABBATH 31out for the second time the sermon would befinished.It was pretty hard for a little boy of five tosit still two hours on a bright Sunday in June,without once nodding. But Nathaniel did keepawake, for he remembered Goodman Merry andthe tithing rod.When he grew too sleepy to listen any longerto the sermon, he tried all manner of ways to

make time pass quickly. He could count toten ; so he counted all the groups of ten peoplethat he could make. First he counted the menwith dark hair, then the men with light hair.Then he counted the little girls he knew, thenthose he didn't know, until finally the last grainof sand had run out for the last time.Now that the sermon w^as finished, the meet-ing was almost over. After one more prayerand a hymn, it was time for the benediction.How every little boy and girl rejoiced to leavethose hard seats and get some fresh air again !

Nathaniel was not strong enough to walk upthe hill before the afternoon service at twoo'clock, and grandmother took him to his ownhome, not far from the church.

Mistress Mather was glad to find that her lit-tle boy had passed such a pleasant night with


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32 LIFE IN THE COLONIEShis grandmother, but she knew that the longservice must have made him tired and sleepy.So, after the cold dinner, she let little Nathanielsleep for an hour, before it was time to go againto the meeting-house. His brother Cotton,however, was not allowed a nap. He wentinstead into his father's study to learn hiscatechism to recite that evening.At two o'clock they all went again to hear an-

other long sermon. This time Mr. Mather readthe chapter and the other minister preached.Nathaniel was rather glad of this change, for,dearly as he loved his fatlier, he could keepawake better when he listened to a strange voice.

IVWhen the afternoon meeting was over, Na-

thaniel went back with his grandmother to thehouse on the hill. He went in at once, becausepeople thought it was wrong to sit out of doorson a Sabbath afternoon or to wander among thetrees in the garden. " To Avalk in that way,"they said, " is walking profanely on the Sab-bath."

So Nathaniel quietly followed grandmotherinto the best room. First they talked about the

1


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A PURITAN SABBATH 33sermons they had heard that day ; then grand-mother read to him from a book for childrenthat Grandfather Cotton had written. Tlietitle had one rather hard word in it, but ifNathaniel could understand it, you ought to.It was called '' Spiritual Milk for Boston Babesin Either England." It was not a storyonlyquestions and answers much like those in thecatechism that the little boy had recited in themorning.

Nathaniel could sa}^ many of the answers inthis book, too, and to-night grandmother read tohim from a part he had not studied.The new answers were not all easy for him

to understand, and though he meant to listen,he found himself more than once thinking ofthat kind old grandfather whom he had neverseen, but about Avhom grandmother had so oftentalked to him. So thinking, he went to sleep,and dreamed that he saw red-cheeked, blue-eyed Grandfather Cotton holding out to hima large cup of milk, and saying, ^' Drink it,Nathaniel. It will make thee well and strong."When Monday morning came, Boston was adifferent town. Nathaniel woke early, and wasglad enough to hear the rumble of carts and thesound of voices. He knew that he might spend


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34 LIFE IX THE COLONIESthe whole day out of doors and wander as hepleased among the rose bushes.All of a sudden it occurred to him that hemight have to go home that day. But grand-mother had said '' two or three days," andgrandmother never forgot. "So I shall stayhere to-day and maybe to-morrow," concludedNathaniel. '' But even then it will not be muchlonger, for Monday and Tuesday together areshorter than Sunday." And so it proved.That morning John had an errand over in

Dorchester and he took the little fellow in thesaddle with him. Grandmother was afraid itwould be a rather hard ride for a little sick boy,but the little sick boy bore it better than shefeared. Of course, Prince couldn't help joltingthem ; but that wasn't bad when Nathaniel gotused to it, and John held him so tightly that hecould not have fallen off if he had tried.Tuesday he fully expected to go home ; andonce, when grandmother brought him his cap,

he Avas sure his visit had come to an end. Butno, he was wrong ; for grandmother only tookhim down on Milk street to call on a womanwho had been ill longer than he had.

Finally, when Wednesday afternoon came,the visit was really over. Grandmother once


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A PURITAN SABBATH 35more put on her steeple hat and tied Nathaniel'scap strings under his chin. Then, hand-in-hand, the old lady and the little boy walkeddown the hill to the Mather home in Northstreet.

Learn :Q. Which is the fourth commandment %A. The fourth commandment is, Eemember the Sab-

bath-day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou laborand do all thy work, but the seventh day is the Sabbathof the Lord thy God : in it thou shalt not do any work ;thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant,nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy strangerthat is within thy gates. For in six days the Lord madeheaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, andrested the seventh day ; wherefore the Lord blessed theSabbath-day and hallowed it. FromNathanieVs Catechism.


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SOAP-MAKING AT THE HOWLANDS'

The snowdrifts were disappearing fast. Eachday the sun drank up a great many little onesand devoured huge pieces of the larger ones.Great patches of brown earth were uncoveredin every direction, and the " caw, caw " of thecrows could be heard each morning.

'' Spring has really come, and we must makethe soap at once," sighed Goodwife Howland.'' The grease will be softening and the meatscraps are thawing. We shall not want to havethem about the house any longer. Jonathan,you and William may as well make the lyeto-morrow."

''Make the lye!" Little Richard heard itwith a start. He was only five and he knew ofjust one kind of lie,and that kind, he hadbeen taught, people ought not to make.

'' You will need to use two barrels," addedGoodwife Howland.

'' What can she mean ? " puzzled Richard, be-36


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S^AP-MAKING 37ginniDg to watch very carefully to see what hisbig brothers would do.They did nothing about the soap-making thatday, for they were busy chopping wood to burnin the great fireplace the coming winter ; butthe next day they started the soap-making astheir mother had suggested.

It was all new to Richard. He had been sickwith measles at soap-making time the yearbefore. And before that,well, he could notremember. But they must have made soap,because people had always been telling him towash his hands.As children were taught in those days that

they should be seen and not heard, Richardkept his bright blue eyes wade open, but askedvery few questions.When Jonathan and William were ready tomake the lye, Jonathan rolled out two barrels,each with a hole bored in the bottom. Intoeach barrel he put a layer of clean, fresh straw,and with William's help filled each with woodashes. Then they lifted the barrels to a highbench that stood by the shed door, taking carethat the holes were just above two large emptybuckets.

*' The ashes cannot get into the buckets on


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38 LIFE IN THE COLONIESaccount of the straw," thought Richard. Stillhe asked no cjuestions.When the barrels and buckets were in place,Jonathan brought two pails of water. Theseand many more he and William poured overthe ashes, until at last the water began to dripinto the buckets below.

'' Pretty dirty looking stuff! " thought Rich-ard, as he stepped up to have a better view ofthe water in the buckets.

" Look out, child ! " called Jonathan. " Donot touch the lye unless you want to lose theskin from your fingers."

So it was lye which the buckets held !Nothing but water that had run through woodashes ! Well, he was glad to learn.

" Surely you do not think it is strong enoughyet to eat the skin," said William.

'' Very likely it is," replied Jonathan. ''Assoon as it is through dripping we will test it ; Ihope it will not be necessary to pour it throughagain."

'' Will Jonathan test it by dipping in his fin-ger?" Richard asked himself. He did not liketo think of the result if the lye was strong.But he need not have troubled himself aboutJonathan's finger ; for late in the afternoon


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SOAP-MAKING 39Jonathan brought out a hen's egg and placed itin one of the buckets. Wonder of wonders ! Itdid not sink. He put the egg in the otherbucket : it floated there also.

'' Good ! both buckets of lye are all ready foruse," he said, with relief. '' We will have thesoap-making out of the way soon."

II

Nothing more was done about the soap untilthe next morning. Then Jonathan began thework by building a fire under the huge set ket-tle in the back kitchen and by pouring the lyeinto the kettle.

His mother brought the frozen meat scrapsand the waste grease that had been saved duringthe winter. These she put into the lye.Such a dirty kettleful as it was ! Richardfairly laughed to himself. That make soap ?

The idea ! Why, he would not have to use anysoap all next year for scrubbing his hands !Much as he disliked to bother about clean

hands, he was almost sorry that he would not beable to get clean if he should want to.*' The skimmer, Richard," directed his mother,in the midst of his worriment. The kettleful of


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40 LIFE IN THE COLONIESlye and grease was bubbling briskly. WhenRichard brought the skimmer, Goodwife How-land began to take off all the refuse which roseto the top. Out came bones, skin, and pieces ofcandle wicking.

After a time, when all the waste had beenskimmed, the liquid grew thick as molasses.Richard thought, as he watched it boil, thatperhaps after all he would have to wash hishands. The thick ropy mixture was coming tolook very much like the soap he had used allthe last year.

PffI j)ff! pff! Blob I blob! It boiled as youhave seen molasses candy boil when it is almostready to take off the stove. At last his mothersaid, '' The soap is made ! "When Jonathan and William came in for din-ner they ladled the hot soap into pails, andcarried it down cellar to fill the soap barrel.Most people to-day keep their soap in boxes, butthe Howland family always kept theirs in a bar-rel ; and when they needed more soap upstairsthey brought it up in a bowl.When the soap was cold it was still a thickbrown jelly, but that was just what GoodwifeHowland expected, for the only kind of soapshe ever made for her famil}^ was what is called

1


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SOAP-MAKING 41soft soap. It was not a bit like the hard whitesoap you like to use when you wash your hands,but it was very good soap ; and Richard How-land could get his busy little hands just as cleanas if he had used the prettiest, sweetest-smellingcake of hard soap that ever was made.

Learn :CleaDliness is next to Godliness.John Wesley.


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WHEN THE INDIANS FELL ON SACOIt was a cold winter night on the Maine coast.

Goodwife Garvin had carried away the candle,leaving her little daughter Mary alone in thesmall bedroom next the kitchen. Mary hadtaken a slight cold that day. Her mother hadput her to bed earlier than usual and had madeher some ginger-tea that would be good at anytime, Mary thought. To-night it tasted verygood indeed."Thank you, mother," Mary had said, drink-

ing the last drop. As the little ten-year-oldgirl settled comfortably back upon the pillow,she forgot all about her cold. The ginger-teahad been a rare treat, and she was to stay allnight in the warm bedroom instead of going up-stairs as usual. On the wall she could watchthe reflection of the cheerful fire in the kitchen.

It was too dark to see out of doors, but Marycould hear the white flakes of snow piling them-selves softly against the windoAV. *' How pleas-ant it is here in bed ! " she said to herself, and

42


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 43that was the last she really thought that night.The sound of voices from the kitchen becamefainter and fainter ; the light on the wall dancedless and less ; and before very long, Mary wasfast asleep.The voices in the kitchen went with her, how-

ever ; and in her dreams they changed to thetinkle of the little brook by which she playedin the summer. The flickering light on thewall became the dancing shadow of the willowtree that grew by the edge of the brook. Maryhad pleasant dreams that night ; and when hermother gently kissed her good-night, she wassmiling in her sleep.Suddenly Mary woke. It was the gray twi-

light of the winter morning and she could notsee distinctly. But what Avas that tall, straight,ugly form by the bed ? She gave one frightenedlook, then tried to scream ; but a hard, darkhand was on her lips, and a grufl" voice said," No scream ! Me kill ! "

In an instant Mary understood. The Indiansthe savage, murdering Indianshad fallenupon Saco. They would kill or carry off everyone they could find. Had they killed her fatherand mother, she wondered ?As she lay there, not daring to move, she


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44 LIFE IN THE COLONIESheard a loud shot, then another, and another.There were noises everywhere. She heard quickfootsteps in the kitchen and upstairs, and voicesthat she could not understand rang through thehouse.The Indian, meantime, was pointing to her

clothes that were lying near the bed, and Maryknew he meant that slie was to dress quickly.She put on her clothes, but her hands shook sothat it was slow work. Then the Indian, stillkeeping his hand on her mouth, lifted her tohis shoulder and hurried from the house.

Mai-y tried to look about. She saw the formof their next door neighbor lying on his back inthe yard. Suddenly her captor, picking up ablanket, threw it over Mary's head, and shecould not see, or hear, and could hardly breathe.The Indian carried Mary a long, long time,

and he walked very fast indeed. The little girlwas growing more and more frightened everymoment. What had become of her father andmother she could not tell. She knew only thatshe was a prisoner, and she thought the Indianwas carrying her to far-off Canada.She tried not to remember the stories she had

heard of the children that the Indians hadstolen ; but she could not put the horrible tales


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46 LIFE IN THE COLONIESThen they stopped again ; Mary had some

more meat and a drink of water ; and WhirlingWind began to make a bed out of some firboughs. Then he threw her the blanket thathe had put over her head in the morning, andshe knew that she was at last to have a chanceto rest.

Strange to say, she had not thought till thenabout her cold of the day before. Bedtimebrought it all backher mother and father, thewarm house, the happy home. She cried again,but Whirling Wind, who was never very faraway, stood over her ; and, touching his toma-hawk, he said, '' No cry ! This kill !

"After a while, miserable though she was, Mary

fell asleep and slept soundly all night. Thenext morning, she found a great change in thecamp. Lying not far from her, on beds of fir,were some children about her own age and twoyoung men. She knew them all, for she hadseen them often at the meeting-house. Therewere the three Dyer children, John, Daniel andHannah, and William and Rufus Johnson.With the prisoners were three more Indians andtwo Frenchmen. All five seemed ever so muchmore fierce and cruel than Mary's captor hadbeen.


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When thk IndiansFELL. ON SACO.


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48 LIFE IN THE COLONIEShad been tramping for almost a month, the In-dians gave them another fright. Each prisonerwas taken in charge by an Indian, and made tosit perfectly still. '' Now they are going toscalp us," thought Mary, and she almost faintedas an Indian walked up to her. But the Indianonly combed her hair out straight, and thenpainted it black. He painted her face, too, withdaubs of red, so that I doubt whether her ownmother would have known her at first glance.

All the other prisoners were painted, too, andthe solemn little people who had not smiled fora month could hardly help laughing to seewhat good Indians they made.When they left camp the next morning, theirway was no longer through the thick woods.They went across fields instead, and soon, far offupon a hill, they saw a farmhousethe firsthouse of any kind that they had seen for amonth.'^ I wonder whether French or English peoplelive there," said Rufus.

''Oh, French, I suppose," his brother an-swered. " We must be pretty far north by thistime, and in Canada somewhere. I don't be-lieve we are to go much farther."'' What do you suppose they will do with us


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 49now? Must we be Indians always?" askedMary." No, I think they mean to sell us to theFrench, if they can. That will be better thanliving in wigwams, anyway."

'* Perhaps so," answered Mary doubtfully,'' but it will be more lonesome than ever if wehave to live in different places."

" Of course it will at first, but I think weshall get back to Saco before very long."

II

William was partly right. The Indians didsell them that very afternoon, just as soon asthey came to a little French village. Fright-ened as Mary was when she knew she mustleave her companions, she could not help beinginterested to kno^v how much Whirling Windwould receive for her. She knew that the In-dians did not care very much for white men'smoney, but she was much surprised when shesaw a man give Whirling Wind only threespools, a red blanket, and a hatchet with a verybright blade.'' My father would give ever so much more tobuy me back," she thought, bitterly. But she


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50 lifp: in the colonieshad no more time just then for thinking.Whirling Wind grunted, " Ugh ! ugh ! " as if hewas much pleased at his bargain, and gave her alittle push towards the man who had handedhim the trinkets.Then for the first time Mary looked her new

master in the face. It did not take her long toknow that he was a kind man, even though shecould not understand a word he was speaking,for his eyes said, *' How weary you look, littlegirl ! " All at once he took her up in his armsand carried her across the road to a comfortablelooking sledge. He put her gently down on abuffalo robe in the bottom, and after rolling herup warm, he gave the patient oxen the word tostart.Mary had not seen what had become of the

other children, but somehow she felt sure thatthey were warm and contented like herself.She was so glad to leave the gruff and cruel In-dians and to feel the Frenchman's kindness, that,though she did not know who he was or wherehe was going, she forgot her troubles for a littlewhile and slept all the rest of the way.When the sledge stopped, she woke with astart. She was in front of a large farmhousethat in some way looked familiar. '' Haven't


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 51I been here before?" she asked herself insurprise. Then she remembered. It was thesame farmhouse they had seen and talked aboutin the morning, and without knowing exactlywhy, Mary felt that she was glad to be there.Again she was lifted in the kind man's arms

and carried this time to the house. Two chil-dren, a boy and girl about Mary's age, ran toopen the door for their father, and they bothlooked in great surprise at their little visitor.The father spoke kindly to them, and Marythought he was saying something about her.When the children's mother came in, she seemedto understand at once. Going up to Mary, shetook the forlorn little stranger in her arms andkissed her tenderly.

Such a welcome was too much for the littlecaptive girl and she began to cry. To be in ahouse again, to see father and mother and chil-dren,she could not have helped crying even ifWhirling Wind had stood by with his tomahawkand said, '' No cry ! This kill ! "No one in the French family could speakEnglish, but Mary did not need words to knowthat she had fallen among friends. The nextmorning, however, Mr. Le Blanc came into thekitchen with a neighbor who could speak Eng-


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52 LIFE IN THE COLONIESlish fairly well. Then Mary had a chance totell all about herself and her cruel capture.

'' The poor, poor child ! " thought the Frenchfather and mother, and the neighbor said verykindly, '' When the war is over, you shall gohome again. Meantime, you must be happyhere."And she was happy. Jean and Elise were the

most delightful companions she had ever known,and in a little while she had learned to speaktheir language and to play their games.She found, too, that not all the northern In-

dians were like the wicked man who had stolenher from her father and mother. There werekind-hearted Indians in Canada, as there hadbeen in New England, and some of them shesaw very often. There was one tall, handsomeIndian who came often to the house and whomthe children were always glad to see. His namepleased them, too. In English it means *' Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies."

Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies had once lived far-ther west and he knew a great many wonder-ful stories that his old grandmother had toldhim. Every day that winter, when it w^as snow-ing and bloAving hard, the children would won-der whether Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies would not


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 53come before night. They were not often disap-pointed, for in such weather the lonely Indiandid not like his cheerless wigwam. He wouldrather sit in front of the crackling fire in thefarmhouse, and tell stories of things that hadhappened so far in the past that nobody had anyidea how long ago it was.The children liked best of all the story of the

arbutus, and I have decided to tell it to youhere. Only I must write it in English, for youcould not understand it as Keeps-the-Spotted-Ponies told it to Mary and Jean and Elise.

IllTHE LEGEND OF THE ARBUTUS

There was once an old, old man Avith longwhite locks. His wife and children were alldead, and he lived alone in his wigwam. Nowthe season of ice and snow had come, and it Avasgrowing colder every day. Usually he delightedin the cold, and never before had the days beentoo sharp or bitter. But now even his thickwolfskin could not keep him warm, and no-where could he find fagots for a fire.

" Shall the Great Manito die?" he Avonderedsadly, and in despair he prayed the Great Spiritthat he might not perish.


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54 LIFE IN THE COLOXIESBut the cold grew still more bitter. Manito

shivered as the icy wind blew back his bearskindoor. Now, however, the strangest thing hap-pened that could be imagined. Into the wig-wam walked a lovely maiden, lovelier than thefairest of Manito's daughters had been ; and asshe stepped inside, the air of the wigwam grewmild and fragrant.For a minute Manito could not speak ; hecould only look and wonder. " Her hair isblack as a crow's wing," he thought ; and, as shewalked slowly towards him, he saw that it wasso long that it swept the ground behind. " Howpink her cheeks are

!

" he said to himself" They are the color of the wild roses. And hereyes ! A fawn's at night could not be brighter."

But where did the delicious odor come from?He had seen the crown of flowers on themaiden's head, and the willow buds in her hand.Now he looked more closely, and found that herdress was woven of sweet grass and that insteadof moccasins she had white lilies on her feet.At last he found his voice. " Thou art wel-

come, lovely maiden," said the old man ; andthen he forgot his trouble and began to tell thestranger what a mighty chief he was." When I walk abroad," he said, '' the brooksand the rivers stand still to listen."


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 55" But I have only to smile," the maiden an-swered, '' and flowers cover the cold earth andlift up their little heads to smile back at me."'' I shake my locks," said the chief, '' and thewind knows that I am angry. It shrieks to the

squirrel and to the blind little mole to hidethemselves in the earth. It tells the robin andthe bluebird to fly far away to the south wheregreat Manito will not find them."

''Great is Manito," spoke the maiden, "buthe is cruel. I am great, too, but gentler."In an instant the proud chieftain's power was

gone. His eyes closed and he could feel him-self grow smaller. In a little while he lay fastasleep on the wigwam floor, not much largerthan the ordinary Indian. Streams of warmwater came out of his mouth, and his fur gar-ments turned to bright green leaves.Then the maiden put her hand into the foldsof her dress and drew out some beautiful rose-white flowers. Kneeling down, she tenderlyhid the pink blossoms beneath the thick greenleaves ; and when she had finished, the wigwamwas full of a new fragrance, though not a flowerpeeped out from its green bed. Still they couldhear the maiden when she whispered softly,''Be good, little flowers. You shall tell the


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56 LIFE IN THE COLONIESworld that the long, cold winter is past and thatthe breath of summer is in the breeze."Then the maiden walked away ; and as she

walked, myriads of the rose-white flowers sprangup out of the ground and nestled softly amongthe leaves. And to-day we know exactly whereshe stepped ; for there, and nowhere else, thearbutus blooms.

So the winter melted into the spring, and thespring warmed into the summer. Then camethe clear, crisp days and sharp nights of theautumn, and by the time the long, cold winterhad fairly come again, Mary had forgotten agood deal of her English and had ceased tothink so much about her father and mother.One year followed another, and still the cruel

war went on. There was no chance for Maryto get home for eleven long years, and by thattime she cared much less about going back.For she had grown into a beautiful Avoman, andhad married Jean, the little boy who had openedthe door for her that winter night. When thewar was ended, she had a lovely little girl, wholooked like her and was named for her. Onlythe name was spelled M-a-r-i-e to show that itwas French.


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INDIANS FELL ON SACO 57IV

From the fort near Saco the evening gun hadsounded. It was a damp and gusty night ; thewind was blowing strong from the east, and inthe darkness the river Saco roared more loudlyand fiercely than ever." Ou the hearth of Farmer Garvin, blazed the crackling

walnut logEight and left sat dame and goodman, and between

them lay the dog,Head on paws, and tail slow wagging, and beside him

on her mat,Sitting drowsy in the firelight, winked and purred the

mottled cat.

* Twenty years ! ' said Goodman Garvin, speaking sadly,under breath,And his gray head slowly shaking, as one who speaksof death.

The goodwife dropped her needles : ' It is twentyyears to-day,

Since the Indians fell on Saco, and stole our childaway.' "

They did not speak again for some time, buteach knew what the other was thinking about.


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158 LIFE IN THE COLONIESSuddenly there came a loud knock ; and whenGoodman Garvin had opened the door, he sawtwo strangers, a man and a young girl."Does Elkanah Garvin live here?" the man

asked politely.'' I am Elkanah Garvin," answered the farmer

and without stopping to ask the names of thetravelers, he invited them cordially to come in.Then Goodwife Garvin, remembering the rainand wind outside, drew up the settle, and urgedthem to sit down in front of the fire. Theydid so gladly, and began to unfasten their wetclothes. As the maiden unclasped the hood ofher cloak, the fire for the first time lighted upher features.

^'Dame Garvin looked upon her : 'It is Mary's self Isee

!

Dear heart ! ' she cried, ' now tell me, has my childcome back to me 1 '

'My name indeed is Mary,' said the stranger, sob-bing wild ;

* Will you be to me a mother ? I am Mary Garvin'schild

' She sleeps by wooded Simcoe, but on her dying dayShe bade my father take me to her kinsfolk far I

away. '


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60 LIFE IN THE COLONIES' For the great and crowning mercy, that their daugh-

ter, from the wild,Where she rests (they hope in God' s peace), has sent to

them her child ;' And the prayers of all God's people they ask, that

they may proveNot unworthy, through their weakness, of such special

proof of love. '

'

Learn :What the Sun told the Indians

O my children,Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,Life is checkered shade and sunshine,Rule by love, O Hiawatha ! Henry Wadsworth Longfelloic.


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62 LIFE IN THE COLONIESPatience tilted her dimpled chin a trifle

higher, bat she dared not say anything. Onlythe Sabbath before, when she said that her shoeswere not so pretty as Anne Howland's, her grand-mother had replied very severely, '' Pride goethbefore destruction ; and a haughty spirit beforea fall."

All the light that Patience had ever seen aftersunset in the great square room which served asthe Coolidges' kitchen and dining-room andliving-room, came from the burning of a big,sticky pine knot. This knot, called candle-wood,was placed on a flat stone in a corner of the fire-place. It was really necessary to tuck it awayin such a fashion, because the smoke must goup the chimney, and because the dirty, pitchydroppings,which were really tar,must runwhere they would be burned up and do no harmin the clean room.The burning knot made the room bright and

cheery ; but it did not give light enough tomake reading easy. Patience, too, very muchregretted that the candle-wood could not becarried to another room. But then she wassmall and was still a little afraid of dark hallsand black places behind doors.

It was a clear, cold night in November when


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64 LIFE IN THE COLONIESshe had tossed them, twisted each tightly,doubled it, and slipped through the loop acandle rod,a stick not much thicker than alead pencil but about three times as long. Thetwisted ends, as soon as Mistress Coolidge releasedher hold upon them, untwisted a little and rolledthemselves together in a good firm wick.When six wicks dangled by their looped endsfrom one candle rod, she began on another rod

and so made each one ready for the dipping.When Patience saw the limp little wicks in themorning she thought they looked like stockingson a clothes-line.That morning, as soon as breakfast was over,Mistress Coolidge said to her two tall sons,

'' Now a brisk fire, boys, and the two big ironkettles from the shed. You will find the tallowin them."When the kettles were swung on heavy ironhooks in the fireplace, the boys brought in apair of long poles. Mistress Coolidge tippeddown two straight-backed chairs and directedthe boys to place the poles across them, formingsomething like a ladder without any rounds.

'^ The candle rods next, boys," she directed,and then she added, as Jonathan brought theseout and she began to place them like rounds

1


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CANDLE-MAKING 65across the sides of the ladder, '' It was well tomake these ready last night. The candle-dip-ping will take all the morning."

II

The candle rods were soon in place. Thenthe boys laid boards beneath the rods to keepany greasy drippings from the floor ; and at lastthey took one of the big kettles half full ofmelted tallow from the fire and set it on thebroad hearth.

'' Now she is going to begin to dip," thoughtPatience ; but, no, her mother took a pail andpoured boiling water into the kettle until it wasfull.

" Oh, the tallow is spoiled ! " cried the littlegirl in real distress.Her mother did not seem troubled. ^' Ask

thy grandmother, she will tell thee. I cannotstop now," she said briefly.

'' Where was the fat of the soup we had yes-terday ? " asked Patience's grandmother whenthe little girl had crossed the room to her.

'' On top," said Patience, and a smile brokeover her face.

" And that is where the tallow is ; where thy


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66 LIFE IN THE COLONIESmother needs it that the wicks may reach iteasily. Is not the fat on the top of the waterdeeper than the wicks are long? Do not betroubled ; by and by she must pour in morewater to keep the tallow ever at the top of thekettle."

All ready at last? No, not even yet. Thekitchen had to be cooled so that the candlesmight harden well. Then at last everythingwas really ready, and Mistress Coolidge took upthe first candle rod and skilfully dipped the sixAvicks into the hot tallow.When they came out, Patience had anotherdisappointment. There were six greasy stringshanging on the rod, not in the least like thebeautiful round w^hite candles she had seen inthe Governor's mansion.Her mother straightened some of the wicks,

then dipped another rod and then another, untilthey all had been dipped once. Then she tookup the first rod once more.

" There goes the first round of the ladderagain ! " thought Patience.A little more tallow stuck this time and Pa-tience gave a small sigh of satisfaction ; but shecould not keep from asking her grandmother," Will they ever be candles? "


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68 LIFE IN THE COLONIES'' Now they will all be ready to carry to the

garret to bleach as soon as they are hard andcold," said Mistress Coolidge with relief.

'' O mother, not all ! " cried Patience. " One,you know, you said we would light to-night."

'' You are right, little daughter. Choose yourcandle and make ready your grandmother'sbrass candlestick. Polish it bright and bringout the snuffer tray and snuffers. To-night youshall see what candle-light is like."What a delight it was to rub the old candle-

stick until it shone, and to fit the new candle intothe socket so carefully that it would stand juststraight. In the evening, when the candle waslighted, Patience could not see the face on thecameo pin as she had expected, but what ofthat ! All she had to do was to carry the can-dle across the room and hold it in front of hergrandmother in order to see every line of thebeautiful carved face. Best of all, however, shehad the candle when she went to bed, so thatshe knew positively there was not a single creepything behind the door.

Learn :-How far that little candle throws his beams !So shiues a good deed iu a naughty world.Shakespeare.


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TELLING TIME WITHOUT A CLOCK

'' Now we are ready to start ! " said MistressBiddle cheerily, as her husband led the horse tothe horse block on which she stood. '' But letus know first what time in the morning it is."

Mr. Biddle did not take out his watch nordid William or Edward, who were waiting tosee their father and mother depart, go to look ata clock. The fact is, there was not a watch or aclock to be found on the great Biddle estate.Instead, William went to look at the top of asquare stone post and came back to say that itwas nearly six o'clock.

'' When the chores are done, you may bothplay until noon," said Mistress Biddle, with asmile. " Be good boys. Do just as Hannah bidsyou. We shall be back by dinner time dayafter to-morrow."Then she stepped from the block to her place

on the sleek black horse, and turned to saygood-bye as the impatient animal cantered awaywith his double burden.

69


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70 LIFE IN THE COLONIESThere was not a train or an electric car, not

even a stage-coach, to take Mr. and Mistress Bid-die to Philadelphia. They must go in theirown carriage or on horseback ; and as the roadswere very poor two hundred years ago, peopleusually chose to go on horseback.

This morning, because the other horses wereneeded for the farm work, both Mr. and Mis-tress Biddle rode on the same horse.

Strange as it w^ould seem to-day, it was notstrange to William and Edward to see theirfather in the saddle and their mother on thepillion, or cushion, placed behind the saddle.Women rode that way so often that it seemed asnatural as it does to-day to see a little girl ridinga bicycle.The little boys watched until the travelers

were out of sight, then started for the barn tofinish the chores. On their way they peepedinto the kitchen to make sure that Hannah wasthere,for when their mother was away it wasnot so lonesome if they knew just where Han-nah could be found. Hannah was ironing andhappened to be standing on some of the noonmarks. William noticed this and it suggested adelightful plan to him.

" Edward ! " he exclaimed, '\why not make


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TELLING TIME 71some noon marks on the barn floor ? Then weshould know when it is dinner time, and Han-nah would not have to blow the horn."Edward agreed. He was only six and he

found most of William's plans very attractive.'' When the chores are done, we'll make the

marks," said William eagerly.Accordingly, when their promised play-timecame, they set to work on the marks. They

opened wide the big barn doors so that the sunshone in almost half-way across the barn floor.

''Shall we make a mark there?" asked Ed-ward, pointing to the spot where the sunlightstopped.

" Oh, no, it is not much after eight. We wantour mark just where the sun reaches at noon.Do you see ? "Edward understood, but it was plain that he

did not think it great fun to wait until noonand then cut a single mark in the barn floor.He was turning away to find some other play,when William said coaxingly, " I'll tell youwhat we can do. We'll measure the marks onthe kitchen floor and make them just the samedown here ; then as soon as that is done we'llplay Indians ! "

This plan pleased Edward and they ran to


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72 LIFE IN THE COLONIESthe house. Hannah was busy cooking in thebuttery, and so did not see the little boys toilingover the measurements. She might have savedthem some play-time if she had known whatthey were about.When the boys returned to the barn, theyvery carefully measured straight back from thedoor-sill and made a mark at just the same dis-tance from the sill as was the mark in thekitchen. This was the midsummer mark, forthe sun is so high at noon in midsummer thatit can shine in only a little way. The nextmark was a little farther from the door, andthe next a little farther still, until the mid-winter mark was made the farthest back of all,because, in midwinter, the sun is so low at noonthat it can shine into a building for somedistance.At last the boys finished the marks and could

begin to play Indians. It seemed as if theyhad been playing about five minutes Avhen thedinner horn sounded. In surprise they lookedat the noon mark. It was not noon accordingto that ; but as it would not do to risk losingdinner, they scampered to the house. It was justnoon by the kitchen mark ! What could be thematter with the marks in the barn?


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TELLING TIME 73The boys told Hannah of their perplexity,

for Hannah was too kindly ever to laugh at aboy's questions.

'* I think I know what the trouble is," shesaid. " The barn door is higher than thekitchen door, so that the sunshine can reach infarther at the same time of day."William understood. " I shall have to makea whole new set," he said thoughtfully.'' Yes, you will," replied Hannah, '' but it

won't be hard. You can make one mark a day,just at noontime by the sundial."

That was like Hannah ; she always helpedwhen she could. William saw that he shouldonly have to watch the sundial, and when itwas noon, to run as fast as he could to markthat spot on the floor which the sun reached.

" To-morrow is midsummer's day," said Han-nah, '' a good day to make your first mark."

It did not prove, however, to be a good day,for it rained from the time the boys got up untilthey went to bed. The sundial was of no usewithout the sun ; and the noon marks on thekitchen floor were no better. So there wasnothing by which to tell time except the hour-glass. The boys turned that several times tohelp the day go faster, and they made some


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Every Day Life in the Colonies (USA) by Gertrude L. Stone and M. Grace Fickett - 1906

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Transcript of Every Day Life in the Colonies (USA) by Gertrude L. Stone and M. Grace Fickett - 1906