Well, first, we find our candles among the trees, and of a truth the forest is of such extent that it would seem as if all the world might get an ample store of material to make light. We use knots from the pitch pine trees, or wood from the same tree split into thin sheets or slices; but the greatest trouble is that the wood is filled with a substance, which we at first thought was pitch, that boils out by reason of the heat of the flame, and drops on whatever may be beneath. Captain Standish has lately discovered, and truly he is a wonderful man for finding out hidden things, that the substance from the candle wood, as we call the pitch pine, is turpentine or tar, and now, if you please, our people are preparing these things to be sent back to England for sale, with the hope that we shall thereby get sufficient money with which to purchase the animals we need so sorely. I would not have you understand that there are no real candles here in Plymouth, for when the _Fortune_ came, her captain had a certain number of tallow candles which he sold; but they are such luxuries as can be afforded only on great occasions. Mother has even at this day, wrapped carefully in moss, two of them, for which father paid eight pence apiece, and she blamed him greatly for having spent so much money, at the same time declaring that they should not be used except upon some great event, such as when the evening meeting is held at our house. TALLOW FROM BUSHES Squanto has shown us how we may get, at only the price of so much labor, that which looks very like tallow, and of which mother has made many well-shaped candles. You must know that in this country there grows a bush which some call the tallow shrub; others claim it should be named the candleberry tree, while Captain Standish insists it is the bayberry bush. This plant bears berries somewhat red, and speckled with white, as if you had thrown powdered clam shells on them. [Illustration] I gathered near to twelve quarts last week, and mother put them in a large pot filled with water, which she stands over the fire, for as yet we cannot boast of an iron backbar to the fire-place, on which heavy kettles may be hung with safety. After these berries have been cooked a certain time, that which looks like fat is stewed out of them, and floats on the top of the water. Mother skims it off into one of the four earthen vessels we brought with us from Scrooby, and when cold, it looks very much like tallow, save that it is of a greenish color. After being made into candles and burned, it gives off an odor which to some is unpleasant; but I think it very sweet to the nostrils. WICKS FOR THE CANDLES