ar me!" exclaimed Aunt Elizabeth, "when will the child ever learn
anything useful! There doesn't seem any time. The idea of a girl of ten
years old never having knit a stocking! And she will be full that and
more!"

"But everybody doesn't knit," said Betty.

"Oh, yes, you can buy those flimsy French things that do not give you
any wear. And presently we may not be able to buy either French or
English. She is not going to be so rich either. It's nonsense to think
of that marshy land ever being valuable. Whatever possessed anyone to
buy it, I can't see! And if Doris was to be a queen I think she ought to
know something useful."

"I do not suppose I shall ever need to spin," Betty said rather archly.

Mrs. Leverett had insisted that all her girls should learn to spin both
wool and flax. Betty had rebelled a little two years ago, but she had
learned nevertheless.

"And there was a time when a premium was paid to the most skillful
spinner. Your grandmother, Betty, was among those who spun on the
Common. The women used to go out there with their wheels. And there were
spinning schools. The better class had to pay, but a certain number of
poor women were taught on condition that they would teach their children
at home. And it is not a hundred years ago either. There was no cloth to
be had, and Manufactory House was established."

Betty had heard the story of spinning on the Commons, for her own
grandmother had told it. But she had an idea that the world would go on
rather than retrograde. For now they were turning out cotton cloth and
printing calico and making canvas and duck, and it was the boast of the
famous _Constitution_ that everything besides her armament was made in
Massachusetts.

Uncle Winthrop thought Doris' letter was quite a masterpiece for a
little girl. At least, that was what he said. I think he was a good deal
more interested in that than in the sampler she had begun. And he agreed
privately with Betty that "useless" sometimes was misspelled into
"useful."

Another letter created quite a consternation. This was from Hartford.
Mrs. King wrote that a friend, a Mr. Eastman, was going from Springfield
to Boston on some business, and on his return he would bring Betty home
with him. His wife was going on to Hartford a few days later and would
be very pleased to have Betty's company. She did not know when another
chance would offer, for not many people were journeying about in the
winter.

Betty was to