"'That's a fact, Madam Dean. It was our boys more than anything else that brought us out here. But Jacob, the eldest, is only twelve this fall, and he has been having the ague pretty badly. But I don't feel to complain, for it is the first sickness of any account we have ever had among them.'"
"'I am sure you ought to be thankful, Mrs. Givens,' said poor Bethiah, with a sigh. 'I know one ought not to murmur, but I do feel like it, when I look at my poor husband, helpless on his back, and no one but me to do anything. If it wasn't for Madam Dean and the neighbors, I don't know what would become of us. And when I think how we are to get through this winter, I feel as if I should like to curl up in a hollow log like the bears, and not come out till spring.'"
"'Oh, you mustn't be downhearted, Bethiah!' said old Mrs. Davis, kindly. 'My sons, David and Jonathan, calculate to clear that lower piece of land for you this winter, and get it into corn in the spring. It is one great comfort of a new country that nobody need want for firewood.'"
"And my husband said only last night that he had laid out to kill your pigs and ft up your house a little before winter,' said Mrs. Barker. 'He's a master hand at such jobs. But about the wool, Madam Dean?'"
"'I have been thinking,' said my aunt, who had been standing over the bundles of wool apparently in deep meditation while this conversation was going on—'I have been thinking that I would about as soon have a rag-carpet, after all.'"
"'A rag-carpet is very comfortable,' remarked Mrs. Davis; 'and if you have real nice rags, I don't know but it is as handsome as any other, unless you come to a regular English or Turkey carpet.'"
"'I have abundance of rags, if they were only ready,' continued Mrs. Dean. 'There are all Mr. Dean's old coats and cloaks, and a great deal more besides. Suppose, instead of the wool, you take home the old clothes, and cut and sew them into carpet-rags for me. Then when you bring them home, I will let you have the wool, and you can make it into blankets or whatever else you want.'"
"The proposal was received with great approbation, and my aunt felt fully rewarded for any sacrifice she might have made when she marked the glances of satisfaction which the poor women cast at the piles of wool, each probably calculating how many yards of cloth or flannel would come to her share."
"'When shall we come for the rags?' asked Bethiah Coffin."
"'Why, let me see. This is Friday. You may come for the rags on Monday next, and I hope you will all make your calculations to stay to supper.'"