My first impressions of this girl as I saw her at the house were exceedingly favorable. As soon as we started I began a conversation with her and finding her very affable I regretted that the distance to Bethel was not five miles instead of one. A flash of lightning gave me a distinct view of the face of my fair companion and then I wished the distance was twenty miles. During our ride I learned that she was a tailoress, working with Mr. Zerah Benedict, of Bethel. We soon arrived at our destination and I bid her good night and went home. The next day I saw her at church, and, indeed, many Sundays afterwards, but I had no opportunity to renew the acquaintance that season. Mrs. Jerusha Wheeler, with whom I boarded, and her daughter Jerusha were familiarly known, the one as “Aunt Rushia,” and the other as “Rushia.” Many of our store customers were hatters, and among the many kinds of furs we sold for the nap of hats was one known to the trade as “Russia.” One day a hatter, Walter Dibble, called to buy some furs. I sold him several kinds, including “beaver” and “cony,” and he then asked for some “Russia.” We had none, and, as I wanted to play a joke upon him, I told him that Mrs. Wheeler had several hundred pounds of “Russia.” “What on earth is a woman doing with ‘Russia?’” said he. I could not answer, but I assured him that there were one hundred and thirty pounds of old Rushia and one hundred and fifty pounds of young Rushia in Mrs. Wheeler’s house, and under her charge, but whether or not it was for sale I could not say. Off he started to make the purchase and knocked at the door. Mrs. Wheeler, the elder, made her appearance. “I want to get your Russia,” said the hatter. Mrs. Wheeler asked him to walk in and be seated. She, of course, supposed that he had come for her daughter “Rushia.” “What do you want of Rushia?” asked the old lady. “To make hats,” was the reply. “To trim hats, I suppose you mean?” responded Mrs. Wheeler. “No, for the outside of hats,” replied the hatter. “Well, I don’t know much about hats,” said the old lady, “but I will call my daughter.” Passing into another room where “Rushia” the younger was at work, she informed her that a man wanted her to make hats. “Oh, he means sister Mary; probably. I suppose he wants some ladies’ hats,” replied Rushia, as she went into the parlor. “This is my daughter,” said the old lady. “I want to get your Russia,” said he, addressing the young lady. “I suppose you wish to see my sister Mary; she is our milliner,” said young Rushia. “I wish to see whoever owns the property,” said the hatter. Sister Mary was sent for, and as she was introduced, the hatter informed her that he wished to buy her “Russia.” “Buy Rushia!” exclaimed Mary in surprise; “I don’t understand you.” “Your name is Miss Wheeler, I believe,” said the hatter, who was annoyed by the difficulty he met with in being understood. “It is, sir.” “Ah! very well. Is there old and young Russia in the house?”