Sometimes I thought of waiting over until the summer of 1856 to make hay for sale to the movers; but having made my start for my farm I could not bring myself to give up reaching it that spring.

So I only waited occasionally to break in or rest up the foot-sore and lame cattle for which I traded from time to time.
The Fewkes family went on after I had given them some butter, some side pork and a milking of milk.

While I was baking pancakes that last morning, Rowena came to my fire, and snatching the spider away from me took the job off my hands, baking the cakes while I ate.

She was a pretty girl, slim and well developed, and she had a fetching way with her eyes after friendly relations were established with her--which was pretty hard because she seemed to feel that every one looked down on her, and was quick to take offense.
"Got any saleratus ?" she asked.
"No," said I."Why ?" She stepped over to the Fewkes wagon and brought back a small packet of saleratus, a part of which she stirred into the batter.
"It's gettin' warm enough so your milk'll sour on you," said she.

"This did.