During the summer of the year 1780, an old Indian, an inhabitant of the
wood, used to visit the town of Poughkeepsie for the purpose of
disposing of wooden ware, it being the only means he had for gaining a
livelihood---Among the purchasers of his goods, was a lady who much
wished for a utensil for working her butter as she called it---and
desiring him, when he came again, to bring some _butter
ladles_.---“_Butter ladles!_” answered the tawny son of the forest, in
the native simplicity of his soul---“Why mistress, if I was to fashion
such things, they would all melt away before I could get here.”