for it? We will be very
careful."

The worthy man, considerably puzzled to know what sort of angels he was
entertaining unawares, obtained permission from the "women folks," sent
a boy off with the jug of drink and showed his callers to the topmost
floor of the house.

"Oh, oh! If there isn't a real spinning-wheel. This passes my wildest
anticipations," murmured Bessie to Jim; then, restraining her
enthusiasm for fear of spoiling a bargain, she inquired aloud: "Do any
of your family spin?"

"No, no; not now-a-days. My old mother vised to get the wheel out now
and then, when I was a youngster, but it's broke now and part of it is
lost."

"Would you sell it?"

"If it isn't all here--" Jim began, but Bessie checked him and eagerly
accepted the old wheel, which had lost its head and two or three
spokes, for the moderate sum of one dollar.

Rummaging among old barrels, Jim found the missing half of the pair of
andirons. One broken leg seemed to add to its value in Bessie's eyes
and she quickly closed a bargain for them at fifteen cents, which their
owner, after "hefting" them, "guessed" would be about their value for
old iron. One old chair, minus a back and extremely shaky as to its
legs, and another that had lost a rocker and never had any arms, were
secured for a nominal price, and Bessie's attention was then attracted
to a tall wooden vessel hooped like a barrel, but more slender, "big at
the bottom and small at the top," which proved to be an old churn. Jim
objected to this until his companion explained how it could be
transformed by a judicious application of old gold and crimson into a
most artistic umbrella stand, while the "dasher" would make a striking
ornament for the hall chimney-piece. As they were about to depart with
their treasures, the honest farmer invited them to look at a ponderous
machine five or six feet high and nearly as broad--a horrid monster,
misshapen and huge, that stood in the back chamber over the wood-shed.
It was a cheese-press. "How magnificent!" whispered Bessie, and then,
turning to their host, inquired--"Do you use it every day?"

"Oh, law, no! Hain't used it this twenty years. Make all the cheese at
the factory. It's kind of a queer old thing and I thought maybe you
would like to see it. 'Tain't likely you will ever see another just
like it."

"_Would_ you be willing to sell it?"

"Of course, I'd be willing enough, only it don't seem just right to
sell a thing that ain't goo