would send and get a jug of whisky.

In the morning we had an early breakfast, and they ground up their
scythes, then started, I with the jug, they with their scythes. We went
together as far as our new road. Father told me after I got the whisky,
to come back round the old trail to a certain place and call, when they
heard me they would come and get the jug.

I went to Dearborn, got my jug filled, paid two shillings a gallon, or
there-abouts, and started back. When I had gone as far as the turn of the
road, where Dr. Snow now lives, out of sight, I thought to myself I'd
take a drink. I had heard that whisky made one feel good and strong and
as my jug was heavy, took what I called "a good horn;" I thought,
however, it did not taste very pleasant. After that I went on as fast as
I could, a little over a mile, till I got beyond where the road was cut
out and into the trail, when I made up my mind I was stouter and my jug
really seemed lighter. There I stopped again and took what I called "a
good lifter." It burnt a little but I went on again till I came to the
creek, then I called father who answered.

I felt so wonderfully good that I thought I'd take one more drink
before he came in sight. So I took what I called "a good swig." When
father came he said they had found plenty of good grass and he wished
me to go and see it. I told him I didn't feel very well (I was afraid
he would discover what I had been doing, I began to feel queer) but I
followed along.

The grass was as high as my head in places and very heavy. It was what we
call "blue-joint," mixed with a large coarse grass that grew three square
at the butt. I got to the scythes where they had been mowing, told father