do that legally, because you live in New Hampshire,
and the law prohibits trade of that sort between the Colonies. You can
take the potash to Portsmouth, and if there is an English vessel in
the Piscataqua you can send it to England and have it shipped back to
Boston; but it must be in an English ship, not in one owned by my good
friend John Langdon, merchant in Portsmouth, who is ready to stand
resolutely against all oppression; or you may pay the Custom House
officer what it will cost to transport it to England and back to
Boston, and he will give you permission to ship it direct to Boston.
That is the law; but it has been inoperative for several reasons--one,
because it could not be enforced, and another, because Great Britain
has been compelled to rely upon the Colonies to aid in driving the
French from Canada. That has been accomplished, and now King George,
who is not remarkably intelligent, but pig-headed, and his
short-sighted ministers are determined to carry out measures, not only
to obtain revenue from the Colonies, but to repress manufactures here
for the benefit of the manufactures of England. Thanks to our
spinning-school, a stimulus has been given to our home manufactures
which will enable us to spin and weave a goodly amount of plain cloth.
Perhaps, Mr. Walden, you may have noticed the spinning-school building
in Long Acre,[23] near the Common--a large brick building with the
figure of a woman holding a distaff."

[Footnote 23: Long Acre extended from School Street to the Common, and
was sometimes called Common Street, now a section of Tremont Street.]

"Yes, I saw it yesterday, and wondered what it might mean."

"Well, quite a number of years ago, the Great and General Court passed
a law for the encouragement of spinning, levying a tax on carriages
and other luxuries for the establishment of the school. Its opening
was celebrated on the Common. About one hundred women and girls came
with their spinning-wheels and set them to humming beneath the trees.
The court gave prizes for the best work. At present we buy our
broadcloths and velvets in England, but the time will come when we
shall make them this side of the Atlantic."

"The spinning-wheel and loom are going in our house from morning till
night," Robert said.

"I am glad to hear it; the road to independence of the mother country
lies in that direction. Industry will bring it about by and by, but I
apprehend that other repressive and tyrannical