PHASES OF FARM LIFE 



the runners tightened, a dozen or more " gads " 

 were flourished, a dozen or more lusty throats urged 

 their teams at the top of their voices, when there 

 was a creak or a groan as the building stirred. 

 Then the drivers redoubled their efforts; there was 

 a perfect Babel of discordant sounds ; the oxen bent 

 to the work, their eyes bulged, their nostrils dis- 

 tended; the lookers-on cheered, and away went the 

 old house or barn as nimbly as a boy on a hand- 

 sled. Not always, however; sometimes the chains 

 would break, or one runner strike a rock, or bury 

 itself in the earth. There were generally enough 

 mishaps or delays to make it interesting. 



In the section of the State of which I write, flax 

 used to be grown, and cloth for shirts and trousers, 

 and towels and sheets, woven from it. It was no 

 laughing matter for the farm-boy to break in his 

 shirt or trousers, those days. The hair shirts in 

 which the old monks used to mortify the flesh could 

 not have been much before them in this mortifying 

 particular. But after the bits of shives and sticks 

 were subdued, and the knots humbled by use and 

 the washboard, they were good garments. If you 

 lost your hold in a tree and your shirt caught on a 

 knot or limb, it would save you. 



But when has any one seen a crackle, or a swin- 



gling-knife, or a hetchel, or a distaff, and where can 



one get some tow for strings or for gun-wadding, or 



some swingling-tow for a bonfire ? The quill-wheel, 



59 



