d and fell from a
high beam, and was carried home groaning with a skinful of broken
bones. He died the next day, poor man, and his bedridden widow
survived the shock of witnessing his dreadful agonies and death but a
very little while. Her daughters, two young girls, were left destitute
and friendless. But Major Bugbee, to whom the cobbler's wife had been
remotely akin, and who was at that time first selectman of the town,
took the orphans with him to his house, where they tarried till he
found good places for them. Roxana, the elder girl, went to live with
a reputable farmer's wife, whose only son she afterwards
married. Statira remained under the shelter of the good Major's
hospitable roof much longer than her sister did, and would have been
welcome to stay, but she was not one of those who like to eat the
bread of dependence. With the approval of the selectmen, she bound
herself an indentured apprentice to Billy Tuthill, the little lame
tailor, for whom she worked faithfully four years, until she had
served out her time and was mistress of her trade, even to the
recondite mystery of cutting a double-breasted swallow-tail coat by
rule and measure. Then, at eighteen, she set up business for herself,
going from house to house as her customers required, working by the
day. Her services were speedily in great demand, and she was never out
of employment. Many a worthy citizen of Belfield well remembers his
first jacket-and-trowsers, the handiwork of Tira Blake. The Sunday
breeches of half the farmers who came to meeting used to be the
product of her skilful labor. Thus for many years (refusing meanwhile
several good offers of marriage) she continued to ply her needle and
shears, working steadily and cheerfully in her vocation, earning good
wages and spending but little, until the thrifty sempstress was
counted well to do, and held in esteem according. Sometimes, when she
got weary, and thought a change of labor would do her good, she would
engage with some lucky dame to help do housework for a month or
two. She was a famous hand at pickling, preserving, and making all
manner of toothsome knick-knacks and dainties. Nor was she deficient
in the pleasure walks of the culinary art. Betsey Pratt, the
tavernkeeper's wife, a special crony of Statira's, used always to send
for her whenever she was in straits, or when, on some grand occasion,
a dinner or supper was to be prepared and served up in more than
ordinary style. So learne