as did Henry Saville, who wrote deploringly of tea-drinking in 1678 as a “base and unworthy Indian practice,” saying sadly, “the truth is, all nations are growing so wicked.” In 1719 Bohea tea was worth twenty-four shillings a pound in Philadelphia. In 1721 it had risen six shillings higher in price, while by 1757 it cost only seven shillings a pound. In 1725 they had both green and Bohea tea in Virginia and the Carolinas, as is shown by the writings of the times; while, though I have not found it advertised till 1728 in New York, the “tea-water pump” showed its large use in that town. When tea was first introduced into Salem it was boiled in an iron kettle, and after the liquor was strained off, it was then drank without milk or sugar, while the leaves of the herb were placed in a dish, buttered and salted and eaten. A letter printed in “Holmes’s Annals,” and written in 1740, thus complains: “Almost every little tradesman’s wife must sit sipping tea for an hour or more in the morning, and maybe again in the afternoon, if they can get it, and nothing will please them to sip it out of but chinaware. They talk of bestowing of thirty or forty shillings on a tea equipage, as they call it. There is the silver spoons, the silver tongs, and many other trinkets that I cannot name.” Bennett, in his Travels, told the same tale of Boston women. Each woman then carried her own tiny teapot when she made one of those much-deprecated tea-drinking visits, and often her own teacup also, else she might have to drink from a pewter cup. And she frequently brought her own precious thimbleful of tea, especially if she chanced to have a decided fancy in the variety of the herb that she used. In the latter half of the eighteenth century tea and teapots were common enough in America, and the “China herb” played a part in our national history that would have immortalized it had it no other claims to our love and consideration. In December, 1773, Boston Harbor was made one great “tea-drawing,” and after that memorable event many American dames gave up from a sense of duty their favorite beverage, but they did not destroy their tea-sets. Here is the lament of one matron over her empty urn: “Farewell the tea-board with its gaudy equipage Of cups and saucers, Cream-bucket, Sugar-tongs, The pretty tea-chest, also lately stored With Hyson, Congo and best Double Fine. Full many a joyous moment have I sat by ye Hearing the girls tattle, the old maids talk scandal Though now detestable. Because I am taught and I believe it true Its use will fasten Slavish chains upon my Country To reign triumphant in America.”