“I have seen a good many pieces of corn planted on a burn, but I never saw anything that would begin with that.”
“Look at the grain,” said Charlie, “don’t that look rich? Well, they’ll have enough to eat, that’s certain.”
Entering the house, they found Mrs. Griffin at the loom, weaving, and received a most cordial welcome. The house had but two rooms, but the roof being sharp, and the house large on the ground, there was room to put beds in the garret. Skeins of linen and woollen yarn, hanging up all around the room, attested Sally’s capabilities.
“Where is Joe?” asked Charlie.
“In the woods, on the back end of the lot, falling trees. He goes into the woods as soon as he can see, and stays as long as he can see.”
“He must make an awful hole in the woods in a week,” said John.
“Have you got any pasture?”
“No; but the cow does first-rate on browse, and what grass grows on open spots in the woods. Now Joe gives her cornstalks, she does better than our cows ever did at home in the best pasture.”
“Have you got a pig?” asked Charlie.
“Yes, a real nice one. Come, go look at him. We’ve had milk enough for him till lately. Now Joe has to buy potatoes for him; but we shall have corn enough of our own by and by.”