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Morris, Charles, 1833-1922

"Historic Tales, Vol. 1 (of 15) The Romance of Reality"


At early dawn she was astir. Flour was needed for the
household. She woke her husband and told him of this, saying
that she must make an early journey to Frankford to supply
the needed stores. This was a matter of ordinary occurrence
in those days, the people of Philadelphia being largely
dependent upon the Frankford mills for their flour, and
being obliged to go for it themselves. The idea of
house-to-house delivery had not yet been born. Mr. Darrah
advised that she should take the maid with her, but she
declined. The maid could not be spared from her household
duties, she said.
It was a cold December morning. The snow of the day before
had left several inches of its white covering upon the
ground. It was no very pleasant journey which lay before
Mrs. Darrah. Frankford was some five miles away, and she was
obliged to traverse this distance afoot, and return over the
same route with her load of flour. Certainly comfort was not
the ruling consideration in those days of our forefathers. A
ten-mile walk through the snow for a bag of flour would be
an unmentionable hardship to a nineteenth-century housewife.
On foot, and bag in hand, Mrs. Darrah started on her journey
through the almost untrodden snow, stopping at General
Howe's head-quarters, on Market Street near Sixth, to obtain
the requisite passport to leave the city.


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