Dear Cassy, do you pray any?
I send you some new petticoats, and a shawl.

Does Mercy warm the bed for you?
Your affectionate Mother." I dressed and undressed in Aunt Mercy's room, which was under the roof, with benumbed fingers.

My hair was like the coat of a cow in frosty weather; it was so frowzy, and so divided against itself, that when I tried to comb it, it streamed out like the tail of a comet.
Aunt Mercy discovered that I was afflicted with chilblains, and had a good cry over them, telling me, at the same moment, that my French slippers were the cause.

We had but one fire in the house, except the fire in the shop, which was allowed to go down at sunset.

Sometimes I found a remaining warmth in the goose, which had been left in the ashes, and borrowed it for my stiffened fingers.