been sleeping was a pile of bricks and mortar. The other children had rolled to the front of the bed and were unharmed, but if Grandmother had failed to heed the calls, Eliza would certainly have been killed. I remember my grandmother's clean, warm kitchen. The room was quite large. One side was carpeted with a homemade rag carpet with arms full of clean, yellow straw under it. The straw was used as padding to make the carpet last longer, and because the floors were so rough. The carpet was hard to walk on when it was first put down - it was so soft and springy - but in a few days it flattened down considerably. The constant walking on it broke up the straw and finally powdered it and the carpet grew dustier and dustier, until finally came house cleaning day - and what a mess it was. The carpet was removed and given a good shaking and hung on the clothes line. Then with broom handles, sticks or slats, the beating began, the men usually lending a hand. And oh, the clouds of dust. Often the carpet was dragged over the lucerne patch, and it left a cloud of dust behind. The walls of the room were all white washed and everything was scrubbed clean. New straw was spread and the carpet brought in. Then came the exhausting job of pulling and tugging to get the carpet stretched and tacked into place. One end would be tacked to the floor. Then if the carpet was new and would stand the strain, a homemade stretcher might be used, a light pole nearly as long as the room with a row of nails driven in one end. The loose end was straightened and pulled into place. On one side of the room was a homemade couch. This had a little straw tick on the seat, and the back and arms were padded with sheepskins. It was covered all over with flowered chintz, which grew a little more faded with each washing, but was always kept clean. On the uncarpeted side stood a little open hearth Charter Oak stove, which stood on four shiny black legs. The oven that ran across the back of the stove had two doors so that you could look into the oven from either side. There was a home made drop leaf table and that stood under a long, narrow, ivy- filled window. Against the wall near the stove, stood a homemade bench with three shiny brass buckets, one filled with well water, and the other two turned upside down waiting for milking time. Upstairs in the bedroom stood the homemade, hand-tooled, four-poster bed. Not a spring anywhere. Holes were bored into the beams that formed the sides and ends of the bed and into the holes were fitted heavy wooden pegs five or six inches apart. A small rope was tied onto one of the corner pegs on the other side and back again., This was repeated until the end Morgan Pioneer History Binds Us Together of the bed was reached. Then it was passed around the pegs on the end beams and the process continued. A straw tick was placed on this foundation. It had an opening in the middle where the straw was stuffed in, and you could reach in and fluff it up when it became lumpy. The opening was closed with buttons and button holes. You could also collect plenty of feathers to add. When Grandma made a new pillow, she soaped the inside of the ticking to keep the down and feathers from working through. Like most other pioneer women, Grandmother valued even the smallest items. When a herd of sheep passed her home, she would put on her sunbonnet, pin the hem of her apron up to her belt to make a bag and gather up the bit of wool that might be clinging to the brush and fences. This she carefully washed, then carded, to be used as quilt batts or spun into yarn for stockings or mittens. The grease can was a very important item in pioneer homes. In Grandmother's home, there were always three cans; first was the can where nice clean drippings were kept and used for cooking. Then there was a big can where surplus fat of any kind, even meat rinds; then there was a can where only mutton grease was kept, and this was the boot grease can and was used faithfully to keep the shoes water repellent and soft and comfortable to wear. I remember the Dutch cheese. Pans of milk were set in a warm room until the milk clabbered. Then, without disturbing the clabber, it was set on the back of the stove and very slowly warmed. As it warmed, the milk separated forming curds and whey. When only the curd remained, it was taken from the stove, seasoned with salt and pepper, and moistened with sour cream. It was then formed into small balls about the size of an egg. I asked Grandma why she formed it into balls, and she said, "Just for a change. We have to eat the same things so often, but we can make it look different." The bread that was used in Grandmother's home was the good old-fashioned salt rising bread. You could smell it all over the yard. It had such a strong odor. We all thought it smelt "awful," but, oh, how good it tasted when it was done. And after it stood a day or two, it was just wonderful for the bread and milk suppers so common in those days. How well I remember the herbs that hung in the attic. Great sacks of hops, they seemed to be so important. We children were instructed in the spring to keep our eyes open for the hops. They grew wild in the fields and along the fences and ditch banks. And there was always the promise of a wonderful hop picking time. It seemed like a big holiday. Long 147