and seated at his mother's board, that he might shake off the phantom
canine and feline that rise on his plate, and call in one of mother's
sausages.

As the fall crept on, the preparations for winter increased. The large
roll of full cloth, which had been lately brought from the mill, was
carried down, and father and I set out for a tailor, who took our
measurements and cut our clothes, which we brought home, and some woman,
or perhaps a wandering tailor, was employed to make them up. There was
no discussion as to style, and if the fit did not happen to be perfect,
there was no one to criticise either the material or the make, nor were
there any arbitrary rules of fashion to be respected. We had new
clothes, which were warm and comfortable. What more did we want? A
cobbler, too, was brought in to make our boots. My father was quite an
expert at shoemaking, but he had so many irons in the fire now that he
could not do more than mend or make a light pair of shoes for mother at
odd spells. The work then turned out by the sons of St. Crispin was not
highly finished. It was coarse, but, what was of greater consequence, it
was strong, and wore well. While all this was going on for the benefit
of the male portion of the house, mother and the girls were busy turning
the white flannels into shirts and drawers, and the plaid roll that came
with it into dresses for themselves. As in the case of our clothes,
there was no consulting of fashion-books, for a very good reason,
perhaps--there was none to consult. No talk about Miss Brown or Miss
Smith having her dress made this way or that; and I am sure they were
far happier and contented than the girls of to-day, with all their show
and glitter.

The roads at that time, more particularly in the fall, were almost
impassable until frozen up. In the spring, until the frost was out of