A larger supply was sent for at once, and thereafter
oatmeal was always on the breakfast table. We presently found that when
a can was opened the contents very soon turned rancid; and thereupon
Glover Drew hunted up a grist-mill that ground our own oats for us.
Making more than we needed, Glover Drew tried to find a market for the
surplus, but no one would have it at any price.
John Cheever was the one person in all West Roxbury who sympathized with
my sister and myself in the most grievous trial we ever encountered as
children. The Brook Farmers and all their neighbors ignored Christmas.
They knew nothing and cared nothing about that wondrous season of joy
for the little ones, and could not in the least understand how it was
that Althea and I were so sorely hurt by such a trifle as the neglect of
an old and forgotten custom. John Cheever did understand. He was a
Catholic and while not at all devout, he still held in reverence the
sacred observances of the church. He it was who explained to us that the
New England Puritans were bitterly hostile to anything and everything
savoring of what they called Popery, imposing severe penalties on
misguided wretches who dared to show respect for old beliefs.
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