PHASES OF FARM LIFE. 255 



and the spinning-wheel, and the loom, are heard no 

 more among us. The last I knew of a certain hetchel 

 it was nailed up behind the old sheep that did the 

 churning, and when he was disposed to shirk or hang 

 back and stop the machine, it was always ready to 

 spur him up in no uncertain manner. The old loom 

 became a hen - roost in an out - building ; and the 

 crackle upon which the flax was broken, where, oh, 

 where is it ? t 



When the produce of the farm was taken a long 

 distance to market that was an event too. The 

 carrying away of the butter in the fall, for instance, 

 to the river, a journey that occupied both ways four 

 days. Then the family marketing was done in a few 

 groceries. Some cloth, new caps and boots for the 

 boys, and a dress, or a shawl, or a cloak for the girls 

 were brought back, besides news and adventure, and 

 strange tidings of the distant world. The farmer was 

 days in getting ready to start ; food was prepared and 

 put in a box to stand him on the journey, so as to 

 lessen the hotel expenses, and oats put up for the 

 horses. The butter was loaded up over night, and in 

 the cold November morning, long before it was light, 

 he was up and off. I seem to hear the wagon yet, its 

 slow rattle over the frozen ground diminishing in the 

 distance. On the fourth day toward night all grew 

 expectant of his return, but it was usually dark before 

 his wagon was heard coming down the hill, or his voice 

 from before the door summoning a light. When the 

 boys got big enough, one after the other accompanied 



