Living in a house and sleeping in a bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I used to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a rest to me.

I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the new ones, too, a little bit.

The widow said I was coming along slow but sure, and doing very satisfactory.

She said she warn't ashamed of me.
One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast.

I reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left shoulder and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, and crossed me off.