It was butchering day at Silas Chamberlain's and Liza Ann had the household astir early. Luther Hansen was master of ceremonies in the backyard, and relieved Silas of the heavy lifting. It was a day for visiting and neighbourly activity as well as hard work. Hugh Noland had been sent to Silas the week before by Doctor Morgan, and assisted in rolling the pork barrel from the cellar door to a convenient post near the out-of-door fire, where they sunk the bottom of it into the frozen earth and carefully tilted it to the proper angle for scalding purposes. "It's fifteen years since I've been at 'a killing,' and I feel as if I were ten years old again," Noland said as he watched the hard earth give way under the mattock Luther wielded. "Go hunt a straw in that case, and I'll see that you get the bladder. Shall I save you the pig's tail?" Luther said as he settled the barrel into the cavity. They swung the great iron kettle over the pile of kindling and corncobs laid ready for lighting, and then carried water to fill it. As the last bucket was emptied into the kettle, Luther turned and swung his cap at John Hunter and Jake, who were passing in the bobsled. "Hunters," he explained. "Have you met them yet?" "No," replied Noland. "Who are they? He drives a good team." "Nearest neighbours on th' west over there," Luther said, pointing to the roofs of the Hunter place, plainly to be seen over the rise of land between. "They're th' folks for you t' know--th' only ones with book-learnin' around here. Goin' t' stay with th' Chamberlains long?" "No," replied the other, with a look of reticence; "that is, only for a time. He don't hire much, he tells me. I'm just helping him till he gets his fencing tightened up and this work done. Why?" "Well, I was just a thinkin' that that's th' place for you. Hunter hires a lot of work done, and--and you'd like each other. You're th' same kind of folks. I wonder how he come t' be takin' 'is man along t' town with 'im? Th' was a trunk in th' back of the sled too, but that may 'a' been for Mrs. Hunter. That was 'is mother with 'im." There was not much time to speculate about future work, there was much to be done in the present, and before noon five limp bodies had been dragged from the pens to the scalding barrel, plunged into the steaming water, turned, twisted, turned again, and after being churned back and forth till every inch of the black hides was ready to shed its coat of hair and scarf-skin, were drawn out upon the wheelbarrow. Then a gambol-stick was thrust through the tendons of the hind legs and the hogs were suspended from a cross pole about six feet from the ground, where they hung while the great corn-knives scraped and scratched and scrubbed and scoured till the black bodies gradually lost their coating and became pink and tender looking and perfectly clean. They were then drawn and left to cool and stiffen.