During  the  winter,  probably  in  February,  1834,
just  before  night  set  in,  I  was  looking  out  of  the  south
window  of  mother's  sitting  room  and  saw  something
new  and  startling  to  me.  It  was  a  team  of  horses
hauling  a  pung  with  high,  brightly  painted  sides.  Just
above  the  pung  body  on  a  cross  box  were  seated  two
men,  warmly  dressed,  having  on  mufflers,  fur  caps,  and
mittens.  One  of  them  was  driving  the  horses.  Open-
mouthed  sleigh  bells  were  attached  to  the  shafts.  The
team  stopped  near  our  side  door,  the  driver  gave  his
reins  to  the  other  man,  and  ran  up  to  the  house  and
knocked.  My  father  went  out  to  meet  him,  and  after
a  little  conversation  the  horses  were  taken  from  the
pung,  properly  stabled,  and  the  men  came  in  and  took
supper  with  the  family.  I  was  permitted  to  sit  up
during  that  memorable  evening,  being  too  excited  to
think,  of  sleep.
In  the  front  hall  my  father's  cornsheller  was
placed.  Why  it  was  put  there  that  night  I  never  could
tell.  There  was  a  bin  of  unshelled  corn  in  the  north-
west room  where  stood  my  mother's  loom  and  all  that
belonged  to  it,  not  used  in  the  winter.  The  corn  on
the  cob  was  brought  and  put  through  the  machine,

4


Childhood  and  Youth

one  of  the  men  turning  the  crank  and  the  other  feed-
ing it  in.  I  saw  the  cobs  fly  in  one  direction,  the  dust
in  another,  and  the  shelled  corn  fall  into  its  proper
receptacle.  It  was  put  into  bags  and  carried  out
every  now  and  then  by  the  men  and  emptied  into  the
body  of  the  pung.  This  went  on  till  that  singular
sleigh  was  heavily  loaded.
