Wheat grew in the sheaf, and we could scarcely save enough to
supply us with bad, sticky bread; the rest was exchanged at the
distillery for whiskey, which was the only produce which could be
obtained for it. The storekeepers would not look at it, or give
either money or goods for such a damaged article.
My husband and I had worked hard in the field; it was the first time
I had ever tried my hand at field-labour, but our ready money was
exhausted, and the steam-boat stock had not paid us one farthing; we
could not hire, and there was no help for it. I had a hard struggle
with my pride before I would consent to render the least assistance
on the farm, but reflection convinced me that I was wrong - that
Providence had placed me in a situation where I was called upon to
work - that it was not only my duty to obey that call, but to exert
myself to the utmost to assist my husband, and help to maintain my
family.
Ah, glorious poverty! thou art a hard taskmaster, but in thy
soul-ennobling school, I have received more godlike lessons, have
learned more sublime truths, than ever I acquired in the smooth
highways of the world!
