old cape coat she had carved a pair of brief trousers and a vest for
Timothy; out of Mrs. Jonathan Cummins' waterproof a serviceable jacket;
and out of Deacon Abijah Cummins' linen duster an additional coat and
vest for warm days. The owners of these garments had been dead many
years, but nothing was ever thrown away (and, for that matter, very
little given away) at the White Farm, and the ancient habiliments had
finally been diverted to a useful purpose.

"I hope I shall relish my vittles to-night," said Aunt Hitty, as she
poured her tea into her saucer, and set the cup in her little blue
"cup-plate;" "but I've had the neuralgy so in my face that it's be'n
more 'n ten days sence I've be'n able to carry a knife to my mouth....
Your meat vittles is always so tasty, Miss Cummins. I was sayin' to Mis'
Sawyer last week I think she lets her beef hang too long. Its dretful
tender, but I don't b'lieve its hullsome. For my part, as I've many a
time said to Si, I like meat with some chaw to it.... Mis' Sawyer don't
put half enough vittles on her table. She thinks it scares folks; it
don't me a mite,--it makes me 's hungry as a wolf. When I set a table
for comp'ny I pile on a hull lot, 'n' I find it kind o' discourages
'em.... Mis' Southwick's hevin' a reg'lar brash o' house-cleanin'. She's
too p'ison neat for any earthly use, that woman is. She's fixed
clam-shell borders roun' all her garding beds, an' got enough left for a
pile in one corner, where she's goin' to set her oleander kag. Then
she's bought a haircloth chair and got a new three-ply carpet in her
parlor, 'n' put the old one in the spare-room 'n' the back-entry. Her
daughter's down here from New Haven. She's married into one of the first
families o' Connecticut, Lobelia has, 'n' she puts on a good many airs.
She's rigged out her mother's parlor with lace curtains 'n' one thing
'n' 'other, 'n' wants it called the drawin'-room. Did ye ever hear tell
such foolishness? 'Drawin'-room!' s' I to Si; 'what's it goin' to draw?