In cool weather there was wood to be brought in for the fireplace and children were handy in gathering pine cones to start a quick blaze. In warm weather sweet smelling green bay branches had to be picked to fill the fireplaces to keep flies and mosquitoes from coming in through The chimneys. There was butter to churn and water to pump. There were no faucets all the water had to be pumped up from wells. Grandmother was lame and had to have many things done for her. The floors were uneven the boards were very wide with big knots which made bumps. Such floors were hard on lame people but to children it made just one more thing different and better than any other house. The stairways were crooked too. There were four of them, the fourth leading to the big attic at the top of the house, a place where children could be forgotten for a while like all the other attic things. While the children were being forgotten they made the attic treasures live again. From hair chests, sea chests and boxes were dragged forth hoop skirts, bustles, bonnets, veils, mits, cloth shoes and costumes of stiff silk or stiffer calico or print [Illustration: OH WHAT A PLACE TO PLAY] Following such a happy airing of honorable and ancient treasures swift and sure came discovery and a quick exit while back with skillful hands went the joys of other days forbidden joys of children’s ways The attic once more resumed its quiet, broken only by an angry wasp dashing his wrath against a dusty window pane. Retreating footsteps down the stairs and through the house with an echo of chagrin found pause beside the pig pen and near tragedy was turned to comedy. The pig at grandmothers always had a lovely home with clean white-washed pen with fresh straw on the floor, a trumpet vine shading it, and the pig himself scrubbed clean every week. Still he would be a pig and would get into his trough feet and all. He enjoyed having his back scratched but his ears were ticklish. Pig weed and sweet apples would tempt him to rise when first offered but he preferred to eat them lying down and a pig lying down isn’t much fun to gather apples or pig weed for. The best time of all to visit the pig pen was when there was a litter of little pigs. How they could run and how they could squeal Always up to little tricks it payed to fix a seat and stay and watch them for a while. [Illustration] The big barn door was usually open wide. The hay from the mows was within easy reach of cows and horses in their stalls a fact to be noticed before taking a slide down one of them.