CHAPTER XXXVII.
ADDISON'S POCKETFUL OF AUGER CHIPS Another year had now passed, and we were not much nearer realizing our plans for getting an education than when Master Pierson left us the winter before.
Owing to the bad times and a close money market, lumbering scarcely more than paid expenses that winter.

This and the loss of five work-horses the previous November, put such stress on the family purse, that we felt it would be unkind to ask the old Squire to send four of us to the village Academy that spring, as had been planned.
"We shall have to wait another year," Theodora said soberly.
"It will always be 'another year' with us, I guess!" Ellen exclaimed sadly.
But during March that spring, a shrewd stroke of mother wit, on the part of Addison, greatly relieved the situation and, in fact, quite set us on our feet in the matter of funds.

This, however, requires a bit of explanation.
For fifty years grandsir Cranston had lavished his love and care on the old Cranston farm, situated three miles from our place.

He had been born there, and he had lived and worked there all his life.

Year by year he had cleared the fields of stone and fenced them with walls.