Litchfield enquirer., 1846-10-08
THE SPINNING WHEEL.


visit even in imagination, one Of those qui-
ct. secluded farm houses which aboCnd in
New England, the humble but happy home
stead of generation after generation, to whom
every tree and shrub about the old place is
d.ar and sacred. We have one now in the
minI's eve, where so many delightful hours
we're spent in early youth, that We cannot
resist the temptation of describing il, for the
benefit of such readers as know little of
q real country" life. The houseWas an old
fashioned, implanted, steep rooted building,
standing far back from the road, surround
ed by fruit trees of various kinds, and look
ing as you approached ii, almost like
birds nest concealed among the branches.
The large yard in front, at the earnest en-
treaty of the girls" had been Sown with
timothy and clover, instead of corn and pc.
tatoes, which the father insisted would have
beeAmuch the better crop, and two small
beds under the front window were given up
to them for flowers. They had never even
heard of camellias or dahalieS or.even of
heliotrrp,s or verbenas, but they had abun-
dance of bright marigoldS, sweet.wil!iamS,
chinasters, pinkS and iady'S delights, aud 10
our childish imagination nothing could be
more beautiful than those hover beds, or
more delightful than the task of assisting
to weed, and water, and keep them in such
nice order Even the Haunting sun-howers
ranged along the garden wall, came in for a
share of our admiration.
At the kitchen entrance, stood long ben
ches, on which were ranged rows of bright
tin pans. ready for the use of the "neat
handed Phillis," who managed the dairy
ho, aha hi
strings of dried apples and pumpkin, while
here and there, long crook-necked squashes
were suspended, their golden rind forming
an agreeable contrast with the dark beams
and rafters of the apartment. But the ca
pacious "fre place." how can we properly
describe that centre of attraction in an old
fashioned farm house? The "chimney
corner" would almost have contained one of
our modern apologies for kitchen, and
when the winter evening fire was made, the
immense log properly placed, and a quaint
ty OF wood which might last citizen for a
month, heaped up in front of it, how snugly |
were the juveniles of the family ensconsed
within it, as we listened to the Preside chat
of our elders, and waited for the nuts and |
apples ever sure to make their appearance |
before our departure for the night. We
see them now--lhose kind and pleasant ia
CeS, some Of which have long since settled
into the Stillne SIS of death, while others are
50 cdan%a4.by time aud sorrow, that hardly
Yestage OF the former self remains. The
prudent wife and mother, busy with her
needle, " making auld claithis look amaist
coming the weekly paper, ever and anon ly-
ing aside his specraces, to join in the house.
hold chat, while the industrious and active,
but pretty daughters. their daily task accom-
plishe:', were preparing some articles of
feminine ado-nment for the coming Sabbath,
or the next quilting or sleigh-ride.
Nor were we without our musician and
our music. In sheltered corner seated in
a high backed arm chair, sat the beloved
and venerated grandmother, on whose plac-
id countenance not trace Of human pas.
sons was visible, and before her stood an in
strnment of music, which, even yet, is sweet
er 10 our rebeliOus ears than one of Erard's
finest harps. Its measured and monotonous
cadence made an appropriate accompani-
ment to the conversation of the domestic
circle, Of which the dear musician was the
very life and soul, with her wise and cheer
full comments on passing events, and her
varied "reminiscences of the past. Do our
youthful readers wish 10 know the name of
the musical instrument to which we listen
ed Start not, gentle reader, it was not
harpsichord or lutte, hut a simple unpreten-
ding, linen Spinning WHEEL. "Dear Gran
n.y." as the children all called her, had been
in her day famous spinner. and even now,
her aged fingers piled their busy task with
a dexterity that we could never sufficiently
admire. How we loved to watch the mys.
FERROUS process by which the fax was pull
led from the distaf, caught by the flyers and
wound on the spindle, a smooth and even
thread, with so little apparent exertion.
1t seemed the easiest thing in the world to
manage that little spinning wheel, and we
we're in danger Of undertaking. the skill of
The performer, until repeated trials had con-
yinced us that it was not thing to be learn
ed by intuition.
The SHOWS of hundred winters had set
led on the head of that ancient dame: yet
still she was stately and erect in person,
courteous and dignifed in manner, and in
emper buoyant and hopeful as child
When urged by her af1ectionate children 10
ay aside her spinning wheel, and rest the
of herlife, she would reply, "No,
lo-you must not ask me to do that
Since was little child, have for six
lays in the week, been constantly employed y,
n doing something for myself or others, and !
low, idleneSs would kill me. | love to work,
Ind the low buzzing of my little wheel seems
ust to suit the pleasant thoughts that fill
ny mind about the scenes of the past, and
hat happy world to which am hastening."
There was nothing more to be said on the
subject, So, "dear Granny continued the
,mploy ncnt she loved so well, until the las,
week Cr her long and useful life. Her spin
hing X. eel is treasured as sacred relic by
ler dc, ,ndants, who value it not only as a
memento of one so beloved, but as silent
teacher of important and often neglected
lruthS. Lessons Of practical wisdom are
Associated with it, to which we would fain
give voice, that they might reach the ear of
every youthful female in the land.
Our venerable grandmother loved to talk
of the good old tines" and it was to MS a
never failing source of enjoyment to 81, at
her feet, and listen to stories of the past.
which though often repeated, were never
wearisome. "When | was young" she used
to say. girls were not brought up to be good