In answer to a remark that he must find his present life quite different from his former life, as a farmer, he said:—
"Not a bit! I never was a farmer. I was brought up in the woods on the frontier among wild animals and Indians. My father was a hunter and trapper. One day he went out hunting and toward night started to visit another hunter at his hut in the woods. His friend mistook him in the twilight and shot him. All my life has been spent in the woods, either hunting or trading with the French and Indians, or else fighting them."
A BOWL OF FLIP
Hepzibah Raymond came in with a bowl of flip—the proper mixture of rum, malt beer, and brown sugar.
She set it down on the hearth, and her son John, a cripple, who was seated in the fireplace, drew one of the iron loggerheads out of the fire, where half a dozen of them were always being heated. He hit it against the andiron to knock the ashes off, and plunged it into the mixture. A pleasant smell arose from it; he waited till it foamed up, and then drew the loggerhead out. Hepzibah passed the bowl to Captain Rogers.
"Here's to good King George and confusion to his enemies!"
He took a long draught at it, and then the bowl was passed round.
A man of middle age came into the room, with a whip in his hand, and his hat jammed well on his head.
"Good evening, Ephraim."
"Sarvent, sirs!"