sich things. Think on
it! a wife an' mothah an' housekeepah not knowin' ef the year's soap
grease wuz wucked up--an' it late on in spring, too. Jane she knits
some, an' she kin do a lot o' fine herrin'-bonin' an' tattin' an'
tambour wuck; but spinnin' an' weavin' an' mekin' candles an' soap, an'
sich useful emplements, she don't consarn about no more'n my Lucindy
an' Lucy.--Henry, ef you eat any more o' thet bacon, you'll be
squealin' lak a pig, befoh mawnin'. Hev some more honey, Mistah
Dudley."

After supper was over, the table cleared, and the two little boys
stowed away in the trundle-bed, the rest of the family gathered about
the broad hearth.

"Heah." Mrs. Rogers said to the twins, "you don't go to the kitchen to
play. You fooled 'way so much time out in the orcha'd this evenin' thet
yer stent hain't nigh done. Set right down on them stools, an' don't
let me heah a word outen you tell them socks is ready to hev the heel
sot. Ha'f a finger length more you've both got to knit." She measured
the unfinished socks, and then handed each little girl her task.
"Henry, you'll put yer eyes out readin' by thet fire, an' me an' Susan
needs all the candle-light fur our wuck. 'Pears lak you ain't nevah
happy 'less you've got yer nose in some book. Heah, Cissy, them
britches' laigs is ready to seam up. Mek yer stitches good an' tight,
else you'll haf to rip it all out an' do it ovah. Snuff the candle,
fust, an' hand me thet hank o' thread an' the shears, befoh you set
down."

"Le's see," said Rogers to his guest, taking a corncob pipe from the
mantel and lighting it with a fire coal. "This is Friday, an' school
oughtah begin Monday. Bettah draw up a subscription paper to-night, an'
ride 'roun' with it airly to-morrow. I'll send Henry 'long to show you
the way. Set right down heah by the table an' draw up yer writin's.
Henry, light anothah candle." As he spoke, he went to the tall chest of
drawers and took out paper, a bottle of pokeberry ink, and a bunch of
quills.

"I see you kin mek a pen," he continued, as Dudley took out his knife,
selected a quill, and proceeded in a businesslike way to point it.
"Now, whut kind uv a fist do you write? Hope you kin mek all the
flourishes; ha'f the folks in Bourbon County jedge a man's book
l'arnin' by the way he writes. That's hunkey-dorey!" he exclaimed,
looking over the writer's shoulder. "Thet'll fetch 'em!"

When the clock pointed to half-past eight, Mrs. Rogers rolled up her
wo