_TRADING IN SCRABBLETOWN_ BY ALICE BRAYTON _PREFACE_ _The material used in this publication was found in a barrel of papers presented to the Fall River Historical Society by John Summerfield Brayton, in the summer of 1948. There were over 4000 papers in the barrel; well preserved, though some had been nibbled by mice. And none of those 4000 papers had ever appeared in print--never appeared at all, I understand, since the barrel head was nailed down a hundred years ago._ _The papers were concerned with trading in Scrabbletown, an old suburb of Swansea, Massachusetts, just about, I should say, ten miles from the farmhouse on the Taunton where the barrel was found._ _Trading a dull subject? By no means; according to the barrel the traders of Scrabbletown led a most exciting life, packed with adventure steadied by responsibility, completely insecure, very satisfactory to those who succeeded or even survived--and you had a run for your money if you didn’t. I am trying to present this manysided life as revealed by the papers in the barrel. You may find me incredible. I read all the papers, the 4000; please believe that, anyway._ _The latest paper was written in 1832, which is more than a world away, and the earliest was a lottery ticket of 1814; not to be thought of as wicked, for I judge from other papers that nearly everybody in Scrabbletown took chances. Lottery tickets to the “Rhode Island State Lottery” were sold over the counter. “A fool and his money are soon parted” was a copybook saying of theirs, however, and although there were quite a few legal papers in the barrel I found no trace of any law attempting to protect fools. Indeed, even the practice of actually jailing persons who had bought more than they could pay for, prevailed through the whole barrel period, and I read some sad letters from some very foolish men who owed money to the traders of Scrabbletown._ _The barrel letters were easily deciphered; though some of the spelling was queer, it was always comprehensible. Going over the papers it seemed to me that the whole population had somehow learned to read and write pretty well; in the barrel there was only one paper signed with a mark. And that was the mark of Prince Potter, a freed slave, father of Quanny Potter who sold seven sheep in 1824. Possibly he had been crippled by arthritis; perhaps when young he too could have written his name. You will not find me jumping to conclusions._ _Except for that one lottery ticket, there was no paper of 1814 in the barrel and there was nothing dated 1815 but an account book bound in stiff marbled covers. It was backed by real leather; to last, you know. No one at that time bought anything not likely to wear well. The book came from the shop of John Brewer, a bookbinder and bookseller of Providence. On the fly leaf is written in an excellent, really distinguished hand_,