I had made a lathe with a wheel, and by its aid the clay left my hands in the shape of plates, cups, pots, and pans. We then burnt them in a rude kiln, and though at least one half broke with the heat and our want of skill, still those that came out whole more than paid me for my toil, and kept up my wife's stock of delf. Some of the jars were set round with red and blue glass beads, and these were put on a shelf as works of art, and kept full of long dried grass.
The time was now at hand when we must reap our grain and store the ripe crops that were still on the ground; and, in fact, there was so much to be done, that we scarce knew what to do first. The truth must be told that our wants did not keep pace with the growth of our wealth, for the land was rich, and we had but a few mouths to fill.
We knew that we might leave the roots in the ground for some time, as the soil was dry, but that the grain would soon spoil; so we made the corn our first care. When it was all cut and brought home, our next task was to thresh it. The floor of our store room was now as hard as a rock, for the sun had dried it, and there was not a crack to be seen. On this we laid the ears of ripe corn, from which the long straw had been cut, and sent the boys to bring in such of our live stock as were fit for the work to be next done.
