Year: 1879

The week before Christmas was
dreadful dreary. In the first place,
father was away. He had been gone
almost month, in search of work, and
we were expecting him home every day.
In the next place, the wood was most
gone, and we didn't dare to keep a very
good fire. And it always seems dreary
in cold, snowy weather, unless you
have n good roaring fire, I think; espe-
cially In a dug-out.


1t was all on account of the grass
hoppers that we had to spend our second
winter In the dug We had been
brave and patient-father said so-the
first winter. But when the grasshop-
pers came and ate up all our crop, and
we had to give up the hope Of house
for that whole year, we almost wished
we were back in Vermont. Then, in
the third place, and lastly, as the min
lister says, we had nothing left to eat
but pumpkin. And umpkin-though
it's very nice for pies, when you have
milk and eggs, and pretty good Cat
least, better than nothing,) for sauce,
when you haven't got any better, and
there is nothing left but the Johnny-cake
isn't so very good for steady eating.
And there wasn't so very much OF it,
either; and if that should fail before
father came


Butmother wouldn't be gloomy. g Eat
all you want of it. / dare say father
will come before it's gone" she said.
"Its lucky l dried so much" sAnd
lucky the 'hoppers didn't like pump
kins," said my elder brother, Bob, try
ing to initiate her cheerful tones.
Bake some for supper, mother. I be-
lieve | like it best baked"


Yes, l'll bake it for supper, and you
and Lizzie shall have all the milk to eat
with it. We who are well can do with
out milk. Can't we, children?" and she
looked round so brave and cheerful at
me and Tom and Johnny that we were
just rs willing as could be to give up
our share of the milk, now that poor
Bess, who had nothing but coarse, dry
hay and water, could only give pint
twice day.


| So Bob and Lizzie had all the milk
that night, and we had only little salt
on our pumpkin; because Lizzie wasn't
much more than a baby, and Bob was
sick ever since he broke his leg at the
raising Bob tried to have mother take
some of his milk; but she wouldn't.
Nobody complained-not a word--we
| should have been ashamed to; only |
grumbled some to old Bess, the COW,
1 you know. when / was pulling down
hay for her. l suppose I'm not hardly
as brave as the rest of 'em. At anyrate,
/ often grumble to Bess. when things
are hard; and | told her that time that
there was no fun at all in living on
pumpkin in miserable dug out, and
I wasn't going to stand it. At least
wouldn't, if had any boots to get away
in. And / tried hard to think what
could do.


But | didn't see as there was any.
thing. The neighbors were good way
off, and as poor as we were. All but ole
Mother Cripsey, and she was too cross
and too stingy to live. No use to &C
near her.


But when | went in. and was crouch
ing down before the fire to get my fin
gers warm, mother said:
4 William, / think somebody ough
to go over and see if Mother Crispey
needs anything this cold weather.
know it isn't pleasant for you to q
there, but it would ease my mind Il
know she wasn't freezing or starving.


How can / 60, mother, with b.
boots but these?v and | held up m,