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LETTERS OF LIFE.

On our premises was a small house, whose sole tenant was a widow and a weaver, who desired to pay her rent in her own work. To accommodate her, my mother enlarged this sphere of productive industry, and taught me the use of the great-wheel. Always shall I be grateful to her for this new source of pleasure. It is one of the most healthful and effective forms of feminine exercise. It gives muscular vigor, and has power in removing pulmonary tendencies. But no eulogy of mine may hope to call again from the shades that which Fashion has proscribed and made obsolete.

A stated period in the morning was allotted to me for this employment. I was sorry when it expired, and ever mingled it with a cheerful song. Flannel sheets, with table-cloths, and towels woven in a rude form of damask, soon abounded among us. Then we betook ourselves to the manufacture of carpets, the warp being spun wool of various colors, and the woof economically made of cast-off winter clothing, or remnants purchased from the tailor's shop, cut in narrow strips, sewed strongly, and dyed black. Truly respectable were they, and, in those days of simplicity, praised.

Growing ambitious in proportion to our success, we spun for ourselves each a dress out of fine cotton, carded in long, beautiful rolls by my mother. A portion of the yarn was bleached to a snowy whiteness, and the remainder dyed a beautiful fawn or salmon color. It was woven in small, even checks, and made a becoming