FATHER had a plentiful supply of game on hand, and
mother roasted two turkeys, which required no little
work on my part, for I was forced to tend what we
called the spit, though it really was only a rude
contrivance which required much labor.
Of course you know that a spit, such as we had in
 England, is an iron instrument on which whatsoever is
to be roasted may he placed and made to turn slowly
in front of the fire until all parts of it are cooked brown.
It so happened that no one save Jethro's father had
brought with him a spit, and, as a matter of course,
Jethro's mother needed it herself, therefore the other
forced to make
shift as best they
Father had made
with great care a
long stick of chestnut wood about the
thickness of my
middle finger, and
this we thrust
through the turkey
from head to tail,
after which it was
hung by small chains from the top of the fireplace, at
such a height over the embers as would best serve the
purpose of cooking.
In order that the bird might not be burned to a
cinder on one side while the other portions were left
raw, it was my duty to turn this wooden spit, until
every part of the meat was roasted properly, and if
 you think that a simple task, try it some time in front
of a blazing fire of huge logs.