Village Life in America

Wednesday, January 9.—I came downstairs this morning at ten minutes after seven, almost frozen. I never spent such a cold night before in all my life. It is almost impossible to get warm even in the dining-room. The thermometer is 10° below zero. The schoolroom was so cold that I had to keep my cloak on. I spoke a piece this afternoon. It was “The Old Arm Chair,” by Eliza Cook. It begins, “I love it, I love it, and who shall dare to chide me for loving that old arm chair?” I love it because it makes me think of Grandmother. After school to-night Anna and I went downtown to buy a writing book, but we were so cold we thought we would never get back. Anna said she knew her toes were frozen. We got as far as Mr. Taylor’s gate and she said she could not get any farther; but I pulled her along, for I could not bear to have her perish in sight of home. We went to bed about eight o’clock and slept very nicely indeed, for Grandmother put a good many blankets on and we were warm.