“There arose a _spinning-match_, among the young married ladies, at the house of Nehemiah Lewis.... The trial was at the foot-wheel in spinning linen. The conditions were previously defined and agreed to, viz.: They might spin during the whole twenty-four hours if they chose. They were to have their distaffs prepared for them, and their yarn reeled by others. Upon the first trial at Lews’ house many did well. The wife of Stephen Tuttle spun five runs, which were equal to two and a half days’ labour when on hire. Several others spun four runs each; but Mrs. Tuttle came off victor. But this aroused the ambition of some of the unmarried ladies, and Lydia Beach, the daughter of Dea. Edmund Beach, of East-street, was the first to come forward and take up the gauntlet. She spun from early dawn to nine o’clock in the evening. She had her distaffs prepared, her yarn reeled, and her food put into her mouth. She spun in this time seven runs, three and a half days’ labour, and took the wreath from the brow of Mrs. Tuttle.” Mr. Powers adds in a foot-note, “Some of our Matrons say that ten runs were a week’s labour; if so Miss Lydia performed the labour of four days and one-fifth of a day in one day.” “Upon hearing of the exploit of Miss Beach [he continues in his address] the wife of Capt. Isaac Pratt, of the South part of the town, came upon the arena. Between early dawn and the setting of the sun, she had actually spun six runs, but at this moment her husband interfered, and peremptorily forbade her proceeding further. She sat down, and wept like a child, when she ought to have rejoiced, that she possessed a husband, in whose eyes her future health and happiness were more precious, than the brief applause which might arise from success in that contest.” He goes on to say that Lydia Beach became the wife of Jesse Buel, son of Capt. Jonathan Buel, “while her garland was yet fresh upon her brow; but the doating husband was destined to see it wither down to the grave, for Lydia never enjoyed health from the hour of her triumph.” From this it is evident that the spinning-wheel as well as the sewing-machine has had its victims. It was well for these toiling women of the pioneer towns if they had husbands thoughtful enough to stop in time the self-sacrifice of daily labor at the wheel, as well as in this spinning-match for glory only. Of such pious women Chaucer could scarcely have said:— “Deceite, weepynge, spynnynge, God hath give To wymmen kyndely that they may live.” For not only did these women live, but also their families and their country because of their spinning.