One day was warm
and pleasant, the next a foot of snow covered the ground and the next
after that the thermometer, had there been one at that date in Berkshire,
would have recorded zero. The Sunday before Thanksgiving was bitterly
cold, "tejus weather" in the farmer's phrase. There was of course no
stove or other heater in the meeting-house and the temperature within
differed very slightly from that without, a circumstance aggravated by
the fact that furs were as yet almost unknown in the wardrobes even of
the wealthiest of the people. A small tippet of Desire's, sent from
England, was the only thing of the kind in Stockbridge. Parson West
wore his gown and bands outside an overcoat and turned his notes with
thick woolen mittens, now and then giving a brisk rub to his ears. Like
so many clouds of incense rose the breath of the auditors, as they
shivered on their hard board seats. The wintry wind blew in gusts
through the plentifully broken window panes--for glass was as brittle
then as now and costlier to replace,--and every now and then sifted a
whiff of snow down the backs of the sitters in the gallery. Fathers and
mothers essayed to still their little one's chattering teeth by taking
them in their laps and holding them tight, and where a woman was
provided with the luxury of a foot-stove or hot-stone, children were
squatted round it in the bottom of the pew quarreling with each other
to get their tingling toes upon it.
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