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��One Slimmer. A Reminiscence.
��brake. After that he would swingle it over a swingling-board, with a long knife; then he made it into hands of flax. The women used to take it next and comb it through a flax-comb; this got out all the shives and tow. There was a tow which came out when it was swingled, called swingle tow. Mother Wetherell said that, years before, when she was young she used to use this to make meal-bags and under-bedticks of. But I never used any of it."
I asked her how they used the flax after it was combed.
" Then it was wound onto the dis- taff."
"What was that?" Mrs. Wetherell smiled at my ignorance, but proceeded kindly to explain.
" A distaff was made of a small pine top. They peeled off the bark, and when it was dry, tied down the ends, and put the other end onto the standard of the wheel. Then they would com- mence and wind on the flax. A hand of flax would fill it. I used to be a pretty good hand to spin tow on a big wheel, but I never could spin linen ver}^ even. Old Aunt Joanna used to spin linen thread; and Mother Weth- erell used to buy great skeins of her. She said it was cheaper to buy than to spend so much time spinning."
Mrs. Wetherell told me that I should go up in the garret and see the wheels and all the old machinery used so long ago.
That evening I asked Mr. Wetherell : " Has there ever been a field beyond the pines? "
"Yes," he said: "Father cleared that piece nigh onto eighty year ago. We always called it * the field back of the pines.' When father got old, and I kinder took the lead, I said we better
��turn that field out into the paster. He felt bad about it at first, but when I told him how much work it was to haul the manure over there, and the crops back, he gave in. Them Norrerway pines are marster old; I s'pose they 'd stood there a hundred and fifty year."
I felt a thrill of pity for the old man, now at rest. He must have been nearly at the base of life's western slope, when he rescued those few acres from the forest. The little field was his pride. I think it ought to have been left, while he hved.
One morning when Lucy, as Mrs. Wetherell called her, was washing at the farm, she said to me : " Did you ever have your fortin told? " I answered, "No."
"Well," she said, "I dunno as I b'lieve all they say, but some can tell pretty well. Did you ever try any projects?"
" No. How is that done? " I asked.
" O! there 's ever so many! One is, you pick two of them big thistles 'fore they are bloomed out, then you name 'em and put 'em under your piller; the one that blooms out fust will be the one you will marry. 'Nuther one is to walk down cellar at twelve o'clock at night, backwards, with a looking- glass in your hand. You will see your man's face in the glass. But there! I don't know as its best to act so. You know how Foster got sarved? "
"No. How was it?"
"Why! Didn't you never hear? Well, Foster told the Devil if he would let him do and have all he wanted for so many year, when the time was out, he would give himself, soul and body, to the Devil. He signed the writing with his blood; Foster carried on a putty high hand, folks was afear'd of him. When the time was up, the Devil
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