quid items follow with
alarming monotony, only separated here and there by entries of "tee" and
sugar and certain yards of "cotting" and "scanes" of silk for Sarah.

But Sarah was biding her time. The book does not say that the minister
was asked to call, or that he came. It does not need to. We may guess it
from the next entry:

May 2, By 1 famly bible 1 poun, 13 shillin

That ended the rum chapter. There is not another spirituous entry in all
of Ezekial Jackson's credits. "By one mometer" comes next, May 6th.
Probably Captain Ben felt himself cooling down pretty rapidly for the
season, and wanted to take the temperature. Then follows "two combs"--he
was going to keep slicked up--also earthenware, indigo, "cotting," and
more scanes of silk, mainly for Sarah, no doubt, and so on to the end,
when the account is closed and underneath is written:

This day made all even betwixt Ezekial Jackson and myself.

B. M.

Captain Ben's accounts close in 1829, but the shoemaking records had
long since begun. They are more prosaic, but they have an interest, too.
A book with charges against Joel Barlow and Aaron Burr could hardly fail
of that, though the said Joel Barlow is not the poet-diplomat who wrote
the "Columbiad" and shone in European courts, nor Aaron Burr the
corrupter of Blennerhassett and the slayer of Alexander Hamilton. At
least, I judge they were not, for this Barlow and this Burr had cobbling
charges against them as late as 1840, when the intriguing Aaron and the
gifted Joel no longer needed earthly repairs. Nevertheless, they were of
the same families, for Joel Barlow, the poet, was born just over the
hill from us, and the name of Aaron Burr was known in Connecticut long
before it found doubtful distinction in New Jersey.

The shoemaker's accounts reflect a life that is now all but gone. Some
of the charges were offset with potatoes, some with rye, some with
labor, a few of them with cash. A pair of boots in 1828 brought two
dollars and fifty cents. Repairs ranged from six cents up, many of the
charges being set down in half-cents. Those were exact, frugal days.

II

_We often cooked by our fireplace_

One hundred and fifty Thanksgivings must have preceded ours in the old
house, but I think out of them all you could not have picked a better
one. I would not like to say a more bountiful one, for I suppose in the
earlier day they had great wild turkeys and perhaps a haunch of venison,
braces of p