Front Matter The Name of My City My Own Name Why We Went to London Bound for America On Board Ship Unknown Country The End of the Voyage Going Ashore Our First Shelter A Tedious Task Our Cave Home Completed How We Kept House Savages Come to Town What the Savages Wore Game in Plenty Sea Food News of the Factor Arrival of the Amity Going to Meet the Factor A Tiresome Journey Meeting Old Friends Roasting Turkeys Turning an Honest Penny A Place for the City Building the City A Bear Hunt The New Home Penn's Care for Colonists The First Baby How the Indians Live Indian Utensils and Tools Canoes of Bark Making Wampum The Beehive Huts Finishing the Cure Starting a Fire Cooking Indian Corn News of Penn's Arrival Our Humble Preparations The Welcome to Penn A Day of Festivities Penn Joins in the Sports More Serious Business What a Bake Oven Is Baking in the New Oven Penn Plans to Buy Land Penn and the Indians The Price Paid for Land Gratitude of the Indians Trapping Wild Turkeys New Arrivals Government by the People The Promise of a School Dock Creek Bridge The Nail Business Buying Iron in New York No Merrymaking after Dark Busy Days Enoch Flower's School End of Our School Days Settlement of Germantown New Laws in Our Own Town A Division of Opinion A Matter of History Boundary Lines The Governor's Following A Proud Departure The Settlement of Chester Dining in State Anchored off New Castle An Uncomfortable Night A Dull Journey In Lord Baltimore's City A Splendid Home A Question of Duty Amy of Maryland The Shops of Maryland The Result of the Visit Philadelphia Progresses Penn Goes Back to London

Stephen of Philadelphia - James Otis

Roasting Turkeys

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 housewives were forced to make shift as best they could.

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.

[Illustration] from Stephen of Philadelphia by James Otis

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.