"Here, Susan Jane, han' me my knittin' from th' table, 'n' go 'n' tell Jim
ter pitch in some pine knots 'n' make er light in here, 'n' be quick erbout
it"; and Mother Tyler settled herself in another home-made rocker and began
to knit rapidly.

This was the night-work of the female portion of the family, and numerous
stockings of various colors and in various stages of progress were stuck
about the walls of the room, which boasted neither ceiling nor lath and
plaster, making convenient receptacles between the posts and
weather-boarding for knitting-work, turkey-tail fans, bunches of herbs for
drying, etc.

A pine-knot fire was soon kindled on the hearth, and threw its flickering
shadows on the room and its occupants as the dusk gathered in.

Mandy Calline and Elisabeth, running a race from the kitchen, burst into
the back door, halting in a good-natured tussle in the entry.

"Stop that racket, you gals," called out the mother; and as they came in
with suppressed bustle, panting with smothered laughter, she asked,
briskly, "Have ye shet up everything 'n' locked th' kitchen door?"

"Ya'as, 'm," replied Mandy Calline; "'n' here's th' key on th'
mantel-shelf." She then disappeared up the stairs which came down into the
sitting-room behind the back door.

"Come, Ann Elisabeth, git yer knittin'. Git your'n too, Susan Jane."

"Yer'll ha' ter set th' heel fer me, mar," said Susan Jane, hoping