At night, when we were stopping at a farmhouse, and after the small children had been put to bed, the older girls would set about preparing provisions for the next day, perhaps borrowing cooking utensils, for our own were few in number and fitted rather for use on a rough fireplace out of doors than in a well-ordered kitchen.
It had become the rule that Isaac Barker, Ben Cushing, and I were to sleep in the wagons during the night to guard against the possibility of evil-disposed persons. Up to this time, however, we had had no trouble of the kind; but Captain Haskell insisted that we remain constantly on our guard, claiming that the day might come when we would fall in with people not so friendly as those who had thus far cheered us on our way.
THE SHAME OF THE GIRLS
On the day when we went into Reading, Cynthia Rouse and Sally Devoll were on the front seat of Isaac's wagon, and as they rode along the girls saw two old German women swingling, or as they called it, "scutchelling" flax.
The old ladies presented a most comical appearance, and the girls laughed loudly, never thinking for a moment that they were being rude; but when the flax swinglers looked up angrily and saw the legend on our wagon cover, one of them shouted to the girls that if they were going into the Ohio country, the day would soon come when they also would be swingling flax, if they did their duty.
As may be supposed, this caused the girls no little shame, for being thus reproved by their elders was not pleasant, more particularly when they knew they had been guilty of rudeness.
This town of Reading was the most considerable place we had seen since leaving Massachusetts, and Master Rouse decided that we should remain there at least one day because of the number of shops where we could buy such articles as were needed, or otherwise put ourselves in readiness for the rougher journey which we knew lay before us.