SUMMERFIELD;

or

Life on a Farm

by

DAY KELLOGG LEE

 "When now the cock, the ploughman's horn, Calls forth the lily-wristed morn, Then to thy cornfields thou dost go, Which, though well-soil'd, yet thou dost know That the best compost for the lands Is the wise master's feet and hands. " --HERRICK

Second Thousand. 

Auburn:Derby and Miller. 1852. 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, byDay K. Lee, In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York. 

TO

MY VENERATED FATHER;

A

PIONEER OF THE LAKE COUNTRY;

WHO

SOWED TRUTH AND GOODNESS IN THE SPRING-TIME, AND

REAPS PEACE AND HONOR IN THE AUTUMN

OF HIS LIFE;

THIS VOLUME IS WITH LOVE INSCRIBED. 

INTRODUCTION. 

BY THE AUTHOR OF "GOLDEN STEPS, " &c. 

Works of fiction are to be approved whenthey subserve the interests of morality andreligion. The Scriptures of the Old and NewTestaments--the ancient classics--the mostdistinguished productions of modern ages--affordstriking illustrations of the beautiful andinstructive lessons of virtue and piety, which may beconveyed in fabulous narration. The Parablesof the Saviour; Milton's Paradise Lost;Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, are samples ofsalutary and saving truth exhibited in stories of theimagination. 

I have made myself familiar with the contentsof the following tale, from the manuscriptcopy. The aim of the author is of the highestdescription. He endeavors to instil into theminds of his readers a lesson of the utmostpractical importance, intimately connected with theexperience of every-day life. He would instructthem of the wisdom of being contented with auseful and productive occupation, which ishonorable in its character, healthful in its nature, and conducive to the welfare of society, ratherthan to aspire to callings, not so laboriousperhaps, yet more deceptive and uncertain insubstantial remuneration, and far less calculated topromote public good. 

This object the author successfullyaccomplishes. No reader can arise from a perusal ofhis pages, without feeling a higher respect forsuch pursuits as benefit the world, and a strongerinclination to avoid the more showy andworthless callings into which too many are disposedto crowd. The story is most happily conceived, and is narrated in a style highly finished andattractive. There is nothing insipid orover-wrought, in the frame-work or filling up; butall is natural and lifelike. The witty, the lively, the startling, are finely interwoven with themore grave and instructive. A fertile and vividimagination has enabled the author to bringcharacters upon his stage which represent almostevery phase in human nature, and to indulge inpersonal and scenic descriptions, whether inpainting a landscape, or delineating somehumorous or some noble quality of the heart, ofthe most charming character. The reader isenamored with the quiet enjoyments of rural life, and disgusted with the schemes of hackneyedsharpers. A high moral tone runs throughoutthe narrative. Vice is rebuked and punished--virtueis commended and rewarded. The idle, the vicious, the unprincipled schemer anddeceiver, are painted to the life, and placed insuch a light, as to act as examples of warningto the inexperienced, while the industrious, thewise and good, stand forth in the true noblenessof their nature, to the admiration of all. 

To those who would discountenance the puerileand trashy novels, full of debasing andlicentious tendencies, with which our country isflooded, I would earnestly recommend this work. It can be placed in the hands of the youthfulnot only with safety, but with the utmostconfidence that it will exert a highly salutaryinfluence upon them. 

I understand the present is the first of a seriesof volumes on the various leading Occupationsof Life. The author would discountenance thefrivolous and demoralizing light reading of theday, and place in the hand of young men andwomen, works which shall induce and aid themto work out a great and noble life. 

J. M. AUSTIN. 

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

I. 

GOING FROM HOME TO BUILD A HOME

II. 

HOME IN THE BACKWOODS

III. 

A BEAR HUNT

IV. 

A FEAST AND A STORY

V. 

JULIA WILMER

VI. 

THE NEW HOME AND SETTLEMENT

VII. 

A CAPTIVE

VIII. 

A LAMB LOST

IX. 

SEEKING THE LOST LAMB IN VAIN

X. 

THE SUGAR PARTY

XI. 

FABENS PROMOTED TO HONOR

XII. 

A LAW SUIT

XIII. 

HAPPINESS

XIV. 

THE COLD SEASONS

XV. 

A WAR OF EXTERMINATION

XVI. 

THE MINISTER

XVII. 

THE MEETING

XVIII. 

THE SECOND MEETING AND ITS FRUITS

XIX. 

THE HARVEST LUNCH

XX. 

MERCHANT FAIRBANKS

XXI. 

THE HUSKING

XXII. 

GEORGE LUDLOW AND ALMON FRISBIE

XXIII. 

FAIRBANKS, FRISBIE, AND FABENS

XXIV. 

A WEEK OF CASTLE BUILDING

XXV. 

A WEEK OF REALITY

XXVI. 

ANOTHER WEEK OF REALITY

XXVII. 

SUNNY SKIES

XXVIII. 

CONCLUSION

SUMMERFIELD. 

I. 

GOING FROM HOME TO BUILD A HOME. 

"Yes, and such a wilderness of game! My word for it, you would like itout there. The fat deer scamper from thicket and opening; foxes andwolves, and bears are plenty; wild turkeys romp and fly in flocks; wildducks dip and skim like swallows on the lakes; trout and sturgeon, lusty and sweet; Indians good-natured as the yellow sun:--and suchhunts as I've had there!--I tell you what, Matthew, they would cure youpretty quick of being homesick; and you would hardly look towards theHudson again, if you were only once in the lake country. "

"I should like to go there, Uncle Walter. It must be a very finecountry, and the encouragements for young men must be great. I shouldlike those grand old forests you speak of; and those pleasant lakes, and the hills, and the valleys. Just so strange I am--I should soonhave affection for them, and reckon them among my friends. I shouldbring away their sweet summer fragrance and verdure in my soul. Andthe deer--how I'd like to see them bounding all about me! and the ducksand wild turkeys enjoying their free life. But to make themgame, --I'll leave that to you, Uncle Walter, if I cannot soften yourheart. If I could leave father and mother, I would go and see whatsort of a life I could accomplish in a land so free and inviting; andwhat kind of a home I could build. The thought of this sets my blooda-bounding. "

"Well, come, make up your mind, and get ready by then I start, and I'llbe right glad of your company. I shall start in a fortnight. "

"What say you, father and mother? My heart flutters as I ask you! Butwhat say you to Uncle Walter's invitation? Can I not make a shift inthe wild woods of Cayuga, and could you not get along without meawhile, in hopes something might be done for the good of us all?"

"It pleases me, Matthew, and it pleases your mother. We talked it allover last night, and concluded, if you would like to venture, we wouldmake up our minds to part with you, and comfort ourselves with the hopeof your doing well. Yes, go if you want to, and the Lord go with you, and help you all the time. I know by experience it is a good thing tolearn to live away from home, and shift for one's self, and beindependent. It makes a clear head, a ready hand, and a nervy heart. My father used to say, an upright mind, with a knack ofself-assistance, was better for a president's son, than pockets full ofmoney. I have found it true, and I hope you will remember it. 

"It will try our old hearts a little to part with you, Matthew. Allthe rest are gone to the grave, and somehow we cling closer to you now. We are trembling on the edge of the grave, and waiting for Death totrip us in. We need to have hold of your hand, and lean on yourshoulder. But I know it is for your good to go and build your own homeand fortune; and if you prosper, as Mr. Mowry thinks you will, may bewe shall live long enough to sell our little place here, and go intothe woods again, and clear up a farm. It is a hard sort of work; butthen it stoutens the knees, and knits the knuckles, and gives a capablesoul, and a pleasant, pleasant life. "

"That's the thing, Major Fabens. Tell the boy of the fun of clearingland; but don't talk of trying hearts, and old age, and the grave. You'll make a baby of him if you do; and he'll get a foolish dread ofleaving, and want to hang around you all your days. Stir him up alittle. Tell him you'll be glad to get rid of him; and to pack up hisduds and be off, lickety-cut; and it will not be a great while afore hecan pop over a deer without whimpering; and a log shanty in Cayuga willseem smarter to him than a city spare-room. Come, Matthew, get readyby then I start, and I'll take you to the handsomest country in allAmerica!"

"Life is a wilderness journey, that all must go, having many strugglesand trials; meeting many dangers, enduring many griefs. But if onedoes right, and keeps acting the noblest and hoping the best, that isthe main thing; and it matters not so much where we go, nor where webuild our home, and perform our labors of life. Hard indeed shall Ifind it, to take my soul away from all I love in Cloverdale: hard toleave father and mother, and all my young friends; but it is best Ishould go. Return in a fortnight, and I will be ready. God help me tobe a man, and make my life an honor and a joy. If I _could_ get a homethat father and mother would like better than their little one here, would we not be happy?"

Such, my dear reader, was the beginning of a manner of life which it isthe design of this volume to unfold. Such a conversation occurred atMajor Fabens' many years ago. Major Fabens and his wife were very fineold people, who lived at Cloverdale, on the banks of the Hudson River. Matthew was their only surviving child; the solace and stay of theiraged years; and Uncle Walter was a neighbor, who had been out to thatbeautiful region of western New York, called the Lake Country; taken upa tract of wild land; made a clearing; built a rude home; and returned, saying many a good, frank thing, to induce others to "pull up stakes, "and follow him. 

On the evening with which our story begins, a long conversation hadbeen enjoyed at Major Fabens'; much had been said of the westerncountry, in description of its climate and soil, its lakes and forests;and young Fabens listened in a spell of delight, more and moreconvinced that there was the land for his future home. He resolvedupon going to the Lake Country. He hastened the preparation for hisdeparture. His clothes were put in readiness; he passed around theneighborhood on all his farewell visits; and the morning of his exitsmiled kindly and glad, as if to welcome him on his way. 

It was a morning in August. Recent rains had refreshed all the woodsand fields; recent thunders had cleared the air and sweetened themorning breeze; the pure sky spread like a curtain of clear blue satinto the sight; and all nature was afloat with those lofty and tenderinfluences which soften the feelings, and induce meditation. A fitseason for the scene that ensued at the Major's, when numbers gatheredin sadness there, to take leave of their favorite. The sensations ofthe company can be fancied by those only who have joined in similarscenes, and shared their affecting interests. Kindest words had beenexchanged, and a full flow of love was indulged through an hourprolonged, when it came for the father to speak, and give the farewellcharge and blessing. 

"A good son, a very good son, you have been to us, Matthew, " said he;"and we have little fear that you will forsake the principles you takewith you, or give us trouble for any unhandsome act of your life. Butthis world has many temptations; singular and strange events fill upour experience; and a little counsel never comes amiss. I have livedlonger than you. I ought to know more of life and its dangers; and beable to tell you many things that will do you good. I have fought myway through difficulties, under which many have fell; and I have seemedto see a light of heaven rising on the darkness, and have followed it, when others like lambs have strayed into troublesome ways. 

"Be faithful to the right, and good, and true, my son, and you havenothing to fear. Let no puff of praise, or flush of good fortune liftyou up with vanity. Stand erect and keep your balance, if you step onice or walk on wire. Be a man always. Keep from castle-building. Insist on the honor of your calling; and don't burrow up in the soillike a woodchuck, but range abroad like a deer, and soar on high likean eagle. Good-bye. "

The last word was spoken; the farewell moment fled; young Fabens was onhis first long journey; and six weary days were numbered with pasthours, before the last opening in the forest revealed to his anxiouseyes the home of his eager guide--the Waldron Settlement. 

II. 

HOME IN THE BACKWOODS. 

A new home in the backwoods! Living where the dun deer roam, and wildfowl flock! Sleeping a-nights where waters murmur, wolves howl, andpanthers scream in your hearing; and whip-poor-wills sing till morningcomes, and Nature appears in her gladness and pride! Who would notenjoy a scene like that for a season, forgetting the tame monotony oftowns, and imprisonment of cities? Who would not forsake a room amidwalls of brick for a green woodland parlor? And leave velvet cushionand costly carpet, for a cushion of moss, and a carpet of flowers inthe virgin wilderness? Follow me, then, to the Land of Lakes, andramble abroad with my hero, while he explores the Waldron Settlement. 

A rare and yellow August evening it was, and about fifty years ago, when Matthew Fabens arrived in the Lake Country. As he rose the firstmorning, and went forth to survey the region of his new home, thoughtsof his distant abode awakened feelings of sadness, but other sensationsvery soon succeeded, and balanced his mind into satisfaction. Awilderness indeed it was that waved around him; and the manners of thesettlers partook as much of its wildness, verdure, freedom, and wealth, as if they had sprung like the oaks and chestnuts, from the soil; andhe found it a region opening upon him, at every step, some new delightor interest. 

That particular section was called the Lake Country, from theoccurrence of seven lakes, that shine out from their green borders likemirrors reflecting the face of heaven. That beautiful sisterhood oflittle inland seas lie along in lines nearly parallel, with ten and adozen miles of lovely woodland waving between them; and they vary inlength from ten to forty miles; and discharge their waters, through theOswego River, into Lake Ontario. Their names are, Otisco, Skaneateles, Owasco, Cayuga, Seneca, Wawumkee, and Canandaigua, each name of themsounding the rich, wild music of the Indian tongue. 

On the banks of the Cayuga Fabens found the settlement, and languagecannot describe the charms of its fine scenery. Few were theclearings, and small, which as yet had been made, and tall and grandwere the beeches and maples, the oaks and chestnuts, that tossed theirarms on high. Fabens gave way to the excitement cast upon hissensitive nature, and allowed himself little rest for a fortnight. Each day was too brief to accomplish all he purposed. He took longrambles in the woods, sensing the sanctity of their venerable shade, enjoying the views they spread to his gaze, and tasting the fragranceof hemlock, birch, and pine, that floated to him in mingled odors. Allhe had heard was more than true. The trees were noble beyonddescription. There were narrow openings and plains, in places, wherethe sumac lifted its blood-red plumes, and bee-balm waved its crimsonblossoms; while generally the woods were dense and magnificent. 

Through opening and thicket the wild deer bounded like forms of beautyin a dream; squirrels were chattering, robins and thrushes were singingin gladness and pride; and wild fowl were sporting in water and air. He went out to the fallows, and they were covered with Indian corn, orgilded with yellow stubble; with here and there a garden studded withcool and lusty melons, almost bursting with delicious sweets. Hedescended the low valleys, and there, as on the hills, sprangthickly-clustering bushes of large and melting blackberries, invitinghim to taste and enjoy. He followed the courses of the creeks, andfound them teeming with trout and pickerel, as playful as thescampering fawns, all mottled with gold and silver, and royal as thepeacock's plumes in the running changes of their lustre. He stood onthe margin of the lake that lay placidly sleeping in the embrace ofhills; and the willow waved on its borders, and wild ducks and heronswantoned on its breast. The waters were so transparent he could countthe white pebbles and shells at the depth of thirty feet; and they werepure and sweet as the dew that lay all night on the wild honeysucklesand roses, which graced the upland plains. 

There was the hunting-ground of the Indians, and wigwams dotted theshore; while on its waters, floating and ducking like the wild fowl, sported the Indian canoes. He visited the rude homes of the settlers, and was welcomed to each hearth with that rough and liberalhospitality, which leaps from the soul of forest life. Several of themhad known his father on the Hudson, and all were soon his heartiestfriends. A frolic in the greenwood chase was proposed for every day intwo weeks to come; and gatherings and feasts were had without number. All were near neighbors, though dwelling five miles apart; all carriedthe spirit of the country, with the breath of its free air, and theimage of its woods and lakes in their hearts; and one flowing soul ofbrotherhood was shared, while one ardent feeling of honest kindness, and jocund spirit, bound them in a fellowship fast and warm. 

The autumn passed; the winter came, and retired; and spring succeeded, casting abroad her blooms and blessings; and the woodlands echoed withmusic, and nature smiled like a garden gay. And more sensible ofsights and influences of beauty, Fabens enjoyed the genial season withnew satisfaction, and determined that there should be his future home. He bargained for a farm of a hundred acres, and commenced itsimprovement, cutting the first tree with his own hands, and selecting, on an opening he had made, the site for a log house. On the approachof summer, by a neighbor who returned to the Hudson, he sent hisparents the following letter:--

"DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, --

"Mr. Wilson starts to-morrow for Cloverdale, and I take thisopportunity to write to you. Of course, you will hear from him allabout me; but still it may gratify you to hear from me by letter. I amhappy and well as I can be in a new home of promise without you. 

"I have seen many happy hours, and some that were gloomy since I camehere. Uncle Walter told the truth about this country; it is a land ofpromise, handsome now in the state of nature. But you know that he whocomes here must labor hard, and endure many privations, before hesucceeds as he desires. God has blessed the Lake Country with a finesoil and great advantages. Still, as I expected, money does not growon the bushes here, nor are the softest couches gathered from theground. Labor, honest, resolute labor alone can secure the objects ofgood desire. For this I am ready with a strong hand and an ardentheart; and trusting in God to prosper me, I mean to have a home andfarm that I can call mine. And while clearing a farm, and bringingfield after field to culture and beauty, will I not be clearing mylife, and bringing mind and heart to culture, fertility, light andbloom?

"I know you would like it out here, and feel your young years rollingback, and your hearts growing green again on the banks of the Cayuga. The country is _very_ handsome. The deer are so tame they will almosteat out of my hand. Fish and fowl are plenty. Each homely cabin isthe shelter of large and hopeful hearts, and the Indians are allkindness to the settlers. O, when you can come and enter my home, willwe not take comfort? My love to all. 

"Your affectionate son, "M. FABENS. "

III. 

A BEAR HUNT. 

Fabens was pleased with his neighbors, and warmly reciprocated theinterest they took in him. There was old Moses Waldron, the firstsettler, an out-and-out backwoodsman; smart with an axe, sure with agun, free with a bowl of metheglin, open in hospitality, and an enemyonly to owls, and blackbirds, wolves, thieves, tories and the British. He chased the tories and redcoats in his dreams, and talked to himselfwhile walking alone awake. The owls annoyed him sorely. Not becausethey killed his pretty chickens, but because there was so little ofthem beside their feathers, and their eyes were so monstrous white andlarge, and they had such a ghostly halloo. Whenever he caught an owl'shollow voice in ominous boomings from the woods, he stopped and cursedhim, and cried, "Ah hoo, hoo, ah hoo-ah; ah hoo, you pesky torment! ifI had you by the neck, I'd wring it for you, I'll warrant you I would, ah-hoo-ah!"

Aunt Polly Waldron was a match for her husband; and while she was anactual woman in chaste and single heart, in motherly loves, in thetenderest sympathies and most unselfish feelings, she was a large, square-shouldered and hard-handed woman; she could split oven-wood, hunt bees, skin deer, and hoe corn; and she loved to tell "how she shota tory in the Revolution, who came while Moses was away in the wars, and fired their barn, and took her best feather-bed out door and rippedit, and scattered the feathers to the sky: how the tory whooped andkeeled as she dropped him, and how three other tories and an Indianlegged it like Jehu away. "

Uncle Walter Mowry was younger by ten years than Mr. Waldron, and hiswife Huldah was five years younger than he, and they were specimens ofthrifty and noble, but uncultivated nature, such as we love to find inthe backwoods, and such as furnish materials for the richest and finestcity life. Uncle Walter was of a medium stature, a well-moulded face, and fair skin, and he was hardy as a bear and athletic as a panther. There was never a farmer who kept cleaner fields, or handsomerstake-and-rider fence than he; or had earlier corn, or a largerwoodpile; yet he did love a hunt more dearly than a venison pie; hecaught fish from pools where others received not a nibble; and heenjoyed a leisure day, and a feast, and a fine story. 

Aunt Huldah was a little swarthy woman, weighing only ninety pounds atforty years of age; but she was free and generous, and all who had herheart and its overflowing love, had all, and there was nothing left ofher. She had the whitest linens, the clearest maple sugar, and thesmoothest and cleanest white maple floor in all the settlement; and sheloved scrubbing and scouring as well as Uncle Walter loved hunting. Astranger would have thought her a real firer of a scold; but she wasnever in a passion; and Uncle Walter used to say, he found her thebest, if anything, when seeming to scold the hardest, and she had thatway of expressing her interest in him, and making her work go on morebriskly. 

There were Thomas Teezle and his wife, who were valued acquisitions tothe settlement. Thomas was stocky and muscular, frank, fearless andfree-hearted; and he kept a keen and ringing broad axe, and could hew abeam or a sleeper as straight as a bee-line. 

There were Jacob Flaxman and his wife Phoebe, and they were cousins;and both had yellow hair and freckled faces; both weighed in one notch;both sang in one song; both craved a fine farm and happy home, and wereprospered in their craving. 

There was Abram Colwell, who gloried in never having cyphered beyondthe rule of three, or read any book but his almanac through; but whowas upright as an oak; shrewd as a black fox; hearty as a beaver, andjocund as a jay. 

And there was Bela Wilson, a farmer, a chairmaker, a shoemaker, carpenter and blacksmith, all in one, as Uncle Walter declared; andwhile he was close and exacting in a bargain, and stinted in his gifts, he had many streaks of kindness, and added usefulness, honor, interestand life to the settlement. 

And among these people Fabens found pleasure and good fortune. Thesummer that followed the date of his letter, was warm and fruitful, andhe went forth clearing and planting with a forward heart; and whenSeptember came, he looked back on his labors with pride, and felt asense of comfort and content, for the beginning he had made of a home. By dint of extreme diligence he made a larger clearing in the springthan he had hoped, and succeeded in planting it all to corn; and now inthe autumn, he had a wide field, bearing the promise of a bountifulharvest. 

But he had not expected increase without tax, nor joy withoutannoyance. His corn-hills supported a liberal yield of well-filled, glistening ears; but foreign feeders that had not planted, nor hoed, came in for a share of his abundance. 

The bears invaded his cornfield, trampled down the stalks, devouredmuch, and carried away more than he felt like sparing. He consultedhis neighbors, and found that others were annoyed in the same way, andall they could do, was to guard their fields as well as they could, andhunt down and slay some of the ravening forest prowlers. 

"We told you, Fabens, you'd have to come to that at last, " saidColwell. "Wild beasts are thick as spatter around here; and you mustdown with some of 'em. It's no use to talk baby; you must kill thecritters, or they'll eat you out of house and home. "

"But they have a right to live, and I haven't a heart to kill 'em, "said Fabens. 

"It does look kindy cruel to drag down a handsome buck and cut hisglossy throat; and see a harmless fawn spout blood, and strangle anddie; and I used to shut my eyes when I bit a pigeon's neck, [1] and tooklittle quails' heads off; but now I can do't without winkin'; and asfor them infarnal bears, I'd ruther kill 'em than to eat. And you'llhave to kill 'em, if you want any corn. "

"But I hate to see them hunted, and wounded, and killed, they suffer somuch. "

"_Suffer?_--Suffer to be _killed!_--_Bears_ suffer to be killed? Byhokey, they don't indeed! Not they, they're used to it as eels are tobein' skinned. And haint you heern of the bear-hunt we're goin' tohave to-night?"

"No, I have not. "

"Wal, make ready with your birch candle and your axe; and come over andget my old queen's-arm musket, and go with us. I tell you what, it'sno small fun to hunt bears. We'll have a smart time, and finish off atWaldrons's with a supper of bear's meat washed down with metheglin. Come, none of your chicken feelins in this country. You must kill andquarter the wolves and bears. "

"I suppose I must. They are carrying away all my corn. In whose fielddo you meet?"

"In yourn, Fabens, if you'll jine us. Come, we'll give your littlepatch a sweepin. "

"Well, I'll be with you. They cannot suffer much if shot through thehead or heart; and I may as well begin a hunter's life killing bearsand wolves; but the deer I'll never trouble. "

Arrangements were made for the bear hunt, and a bear hunt they had; andall declared they were glad Fabens was along, for it gave him somethingnot to be found on the Hudson. Torches were prepared, guns and axeswere ready, dogs and men assembled at an early hour, and Fabens, Colwell, and Wilson were sent on a scout into the field to listen forthe ravagers, and give the signal of attack. The full, bright moonbeamed down from the sky, and every movement had to be stealthy and lowto avoid alarm; and as Fabens crept into the field, and hid himself inthe hollow of a stump, and listened, his very heart frightened him, forit beat so loudly, he waited in fear that it would alarm the bears, orbetray him into their clutches. Beat, beat, went his heart; tang, tang, went the insects; hoot, hoot, went the owls; and on, and on rodethe moon. Again his flint was examined; again his tinder-box felt for, and his torch fixed for lighting when it might be needed in the woods;and his eager ear opened wider and wider to catch a rustling noise. 

At last the corn rustled, and footfalls sounded faintly in his ear, andColwell crept up and whispered, "The bears are in! don't you hear 'em?They're movin' this way. There! hear 'em rattle the corn!--There, there again, hear 'em snuffle and chank!"

"I hear something, " said Fabens. 

"That's 'um! Old Bruin has come with his wife and children. We'llgive 'em a belly full. Stay here, Fabens, and I'll sly away, and startup the company. Hear that! and that!--they're snorters! Slink downinto the stump; and if our comin' scares 'em, jump out and keep track alittle. Don't be scart. We'll be along in a jiffy, and nab thevarmints. "

Colwell crept away, and exchanged a word with Wilson, and then stoleoff to rally the company. But Fabens began to shudder in hissentry-box. He had grown to be quite a backwoodsman; he had taken thestrength and courage of the wild forest life; he was usually calm andself-possessed; but here was a new venture entirely, and while beat, beat, went his heart in rising alarm, the loud and louder rattle of thecorn informed him of the closer coming of the animals. Now he hearsthem tear off an ear! Now they craunch it, and crowd snuffling alongthrough the corn-hills! Now they cough, and his wildest fears are up;and now they breathe in hearing, and move as if for the place of hisconcealment, strip down a stalk, and rend off an ear, as he thinks, where Colwell just lay!

What shall he do? If he stirs, they may grasp him. If he remains, they will surely scent him out, and take him. O, terrible moment!Where in the world are the company, that they do not run to his relief?His hair stands on end, lifting his hat so high, the bears _must_ seehim now!--Shall he rise and shoot? He would be likely to miss, he isso awkward with a gun. Why did he consent to lie there? Why don'tthey come, as they said they would?--There! there! a step nearer, andthe grate of their teeth sets him shivering! Now, now he mustdie!--Must he not? or what other sound is that more distant?Footsteps--a whisper, and--they come, they come! and away jump thebears, and away with dogs, axes, guns, and torches after them go themen of the hunt!

"Now, Fabens, up and away; the fun's afoot, the fun's afoot!" criedColwell. 

"Yes; but _such_ fun!" faltered Fabens. 

"Come on, come on! Mr. Bruin and his cubs shall have a good visit attheir home!" cried Wilson. 

"Nothing could be more in the nick of time!" cried Uncle Walter. 

"We git 'em now!" said the Indians. 

"Seek 'em, Bose! seek 'em, Spanker! seek 'em Nig! seek 'em, Watch!"shouted Flaxman; and with flaring lights, and clatter, and howl, andlaugh, and halloo, away they pursued the bounding game. Now they takethe woods. Now the bears rush down the hill, cross the stream, run inthe gully, and race away; and dogs and men follow close and closer ontheir track. Now they worry up a difficult bank, and scuttle andwheeze away, away. But the dogs gain upon them; the torches alarmthem; the ground is not safe, and they climb the trees, as the huntersall wish, and seek concealment in the shadow of closely covering leaves. 

"Up a tree, be you, Mr. Bruin, eh?" cried Colwell. 

"What can you do now?" asked Fabens. 

"Down with the tree!" shouted Flaxman. 

"No, let me see if I can't fetch the fellow with my old gun, " criedUncle Walter. "I reckon I can reach him. I've picked bears out oftaller trees than that. "

"What's there?" shouted Flaxman. "There's two on 'em treed. See thedogs tear away at the foot of yon maple! Let's slash down the trees, and give the dogs a little more fun. Old Spank's ready to jump out ofhis skin, he's so fairse. And see Nig on his hind legs, and Watch jumpup and nip the bark from the tree. Down with them, and give the dogs alittle more fun. "

"No, no; I'll see first if I can't tickle 'em with quicker fun, " saidUncle Walter; and all agreed that he should give a try. So the torcheswere held away, that they might not blind him; and clear eyes searchedto spy them by a few broken beams of the moon. 

"You'll have to cut the trees, or give 'em up, " shouted Flaxman. 

"It's dark as Egypt up in them thick leaves, " said Colwell. "Skin yourkeenest eye, Uncle Walt, and then I guess you won't spy your game. "

"Hold, boys! hold on, hold on!" cried Uncle Walter. "I spy one! Here, Colwell! you see that big limb, don't you? run a sharp look up that, and tell us what that black bunch is, eh?"

"'S a bear, 's a bear, give him gowdy!" cried Colwell; and Uncle Walterlaid his best eye on his old queen's-arm, and fired. Rustle, rustle, went the leaves; a limb snapped; a growl exploded; a rattling wheezeran shuddering on the still air; a shower of bark, scratched front thetree, clattered down on the leaves; and then a groan--thenthrash--bound came a bear against the earth; and a torch at his nosegave Uncle Walter to cry, "Dead--he's dead's a nit! Now, Miss Moon, hang your lantern in t'other tree, and I'll bring down Bruin's wife tosleep by his side, I will. "

"No, you've had fun enough for one night, Uncle Walt, and now letFabens try, " said Colwell. 

The gun was re-loaded, and soon the moonlight through the leavesbetrayed the other bear; and after a little hesitation, Fabens took aimand fired. But his hand shook, and his shot was lost in the air; andUncle Walter fired, and snap--crash--bound--came the other bear. Thedogs rushed upon her, and flew back in full shriek. Then Fabens showedcourage, and made up to her, before knowing the danger, and the woundedbear uttered a horrible growl, and gave him chase!

Terror was up in a moment, and leaped from heart to heart. Awaybounded Fabens, and closely on his heels bounded the grim andopen-mouthed bear. Over a rock he leaped, round a tree he ran, and thebear bounded after. Then came dogs and men, and were repulsed withshrieks and ejaculations. Then they renewed the attack; and as oldSpanker caught her by the leg, and she turned upon the dog in fury, Colwell put a ball through her head, and the fearful chase was over. 

"A narrow squeak for you, Fabens, " said Wilson, "a very narrow squeak. "

"Too narrow, I declare, " said Uncle Walter. "I cannot stand that, Imust set down. I thought Matthew was a gonner, and the fright takesthe tuck out o' my old knees. "

"I never was so scart afore, " said Flaxman; and, "You'll not call mefool, if I sit down too, " said Fabens, with white lips. "I am not usedto this as you are. It is too rough, too rough for a new settler;" anddown he threw himself by Uncle Walter; while the others, declaring twowere enough for that night, gathered up the guns and axes, and, whenthe bears were dressed and hung up on trees, the company left thewoods, declaring they would have a grand feast, and pay Fabens for hisfright, if he would meet them at Mr. Waldron's the next evening. 

Recovering a little from his fainting terror, Fabens joined theirconversation, as they returned to their homes; and long before his eyesfound the first wink of sleep, his mind wandered in perilousadventures, and in pleasant and unpleasant thoughts of the wild forestlife. He would attend the supper at Mr. Waldron's; he would try tocontribute his share of talk and enjoyment; but on another bear-hunt heresolved never to go. 

[1] A barbarous way of killing pigeons caught in a net. 

IV. 

A FEAST AND A STORY. 

Morning returned; the day rolled away; and the appointed evening foundthe hunting party at Mr. Waldron's, and the sweet metheglin went roundin flowing bowls; and all were jovial and ready with talk, and wit, andglee. The table was spread with luxuries. The savory viands smokedfrom multiplied motherly platters; and there were Indian bread, potatoand turnip sauce, cranberry and wild plum sauce, a stack of wild honeyin the snow-white comb, and cakes and pumpkin pies. 

The bear's meat was discussed with fairness and spirit, and pronouncedright fat and fine; and the supper, washed down before and after withmetheglin of Aunt Polly's happiest mix, was taken with good relish. 

"You get nothing better'n this on the Hudson, I reckon, " said UncleWalter to Fabens. "Give me a new country after all for elbow-room, asharp appetite and a good pick o' game. I guess the Major wouldn'tloathe such a bite as this. "

"Aunt Polly for a supper of bear's meat, I say, " added Colwell. 

"Aunt Polly for the fixins too, " added Wilson. 

"Such fixins don't come afore every gang o' hungry hunters, " addedFlaxman. "Is't sage, or savory sprinkled on this meat? This plumsauce don't cly my appetite a bit; nor these fried scutlets; and I loveto gnash my shovel-teeth on a clean comb o' honey; and honey, they say, is healin'. "

"If you eat any more honey, Flaxman, " said Wilson, "Uncle Mose 'll haveto take you up. He'll make more'n he would to take up a bee-hive. Butdid ever anybody else get up a lusciouser pumpkin-pie? Aunt Pollyalways makes 'em deep enough to swim in; and she don't spare the maplesugar at all, nor the ginger, nor the shortnin' in the crust. And shecrimps the edges so curious. "

"How do _you_ like a batin' like this, Fabens?" asked Colwell. "Whatmakes you so mum? aint home-sick, be you?"

"I like it well, I assure you. I didn't think bear's meat was sofine, " answered Fabens. "I am not homesick; I was just thinking howshe chased me, and how narrowly I escaped. "

"It was much as ever, " said Teezle, "much as ever that the critterdidn't mutton you. She skipped like a painter, and whet up her teethfor a whalin' bite. But don't think on it now. Here, who'll tell agood story, and cheer up Fabens a little? Uncle Walt, tell one of yourpainter stories. That 'll wean him of his fright. "

"O, yes, tell a painter story, " said Colwell. 

"Yes, that's the thing, " added Wilson. 

"Fabens's run was only a jolly game o' gool, compared with your pulland squeeze with a painter, " added Mr. Waldron. 

"The one on the tree, that watched me half a day, cat-fashion? or theone that dogged me through the Owasco woods? or the one that chased mehome to the chips?" asked Uncle Walter. 

"Any one will answer to wean Fabens of his fright, " said Teezle. 

"Well, I'll tell the first that comes up in my mind, " said UncleWalter, "and may be another one still will come. Another bowl ofmetheglin, and then for the story. " He took the metheglin and began. "It was the second year after we come here, and a day in November: theday after I finished husking. Huldah reckoned a wild turkey wouldn'tgo with a bad relish, and so I shouldered the old gun in the morning, and letting Bose follow slyly along behind, I put away out into thewoods. I killed three or four pigeons, and a squirrel, and snipe; buton and on, and round, I ranged, afore I could get a single crack at aturkey. But a flock flew up at last, and one proud old Tom taking atall maple in sight, and swinging his red gorget as if to dare a shot, I fired, and plump he come to the ground, while the rest flew away. 

"Well, after all, this aint bad doings, thought I, and shouldered mygame on my gun, and set my sails for home. I got a little puzzledabout the pint o' compass; still I thought I was right, and puttingahead pretty good shin; when all at once Bose howled out, and theleaves rattled, and the ground rumbled, and up a shagbark walnut leapta yellow painter like a cat, making the bark all fly again, and dashingher way to the tiptop limb o' the tree. Thinks I, my fellow, youwouldn't be very small game, and your yellow jacket wouldn't be bad fora winter wescot; so I took a close, quick aim and fired. Down tumbledthe painter, with a hole through her liver 'n lights, and no time tobreathe her last. It was a she painter, and I stripped off her hide ina hurry, slung it on my shoulder, and budged on again, as I reckoned, towards home. 

"It was getting well on to night, and as it grew darkish in the woods, and the pint o' compass still pestered me, and I didn't know but my oldhead had got backside to, I confess I begun to feel a little skittish, and throwed away all my game but the turkey and painter skin, tolighten my load, and took a spryer step through the staddles. Itwasn't the best o' walking, for logs were thick, and the grape-vinestript me some; and I had to nod and squirl for the staddles and limbs. I went, I should reckon, about three miles from where I shot andskinned the painter, and the last half-mile was clearer of logs andunderwood; and let in a flash of sunshine now and then, and I thought Iwas coming to an opening. 

"All at once I heard a halloo, and hauled up, and listened. I heard itagain more distinct, and it sounded sharper 'n a halloo, and yet Ireckoned somebody was calling. I bellowed back an answer, and ananswer flew back like a woman calling. It was closer by than at first, and it trembled, and swelled in the screeching echo. I reckoned surelyI warn't fur from home, and it was Huldah after me, calling. Away Ishouted again; and back flew an answer full scream, and now it was agood 'eal nearer. It couldn't be Huldah. It sounded a little like hervoice, but it screamed sharper than she ever did in a call or a scold. Louder, and sharper, and nearer come another singe-er of a scream, andI knew in a trice what it was. It was a painter; and the mate of theone I had killed!

"I thought of my gun, but I hadn't re-loaded. I felt for aminition, and there was only one single charge left! Scream--yell, come thesound oftener and nearer, and there I was, as you may say, a-mostdestitute of all means of battle. I turned cold all over, and my hairstood up like a hedgehog's. But not a second was to be lost; for thescream shook the staddles, and rung and rolled. So I loaded my gunwith the last little charge, and legged it like Jehu, as Aunt Pollysays, for several rods; then throwed down my game and jumped as fur asI could any way spring out sideways from my track; and a few jumps tookme about six rods from my painter skin and turkey; and there I waitedon my last legs, with my gun cocked, and butcher-knife slung, and Boseat my feet for a battle. 

"The sun was just sliding down west o' my aim; so I had the advantageof all the light there was, and a big sugar-maple for a cover and rest. It was all done in a jiffy, while yell-ety-yell, scream-ety-scream comethe sound, and the wild old woods rung again, and shuddered and shookwith the echo! A thousand thoughts darted through my head as iflightning had chased 'em. I thought of poor Huldah; how she wouldfeel, and what she would do, and what would become of her, away offhere in the wilderness, if I was killed. I thought of her, and wantedto see her, and bid her good-bye at least; and would a give money forthat little comfort. 

"But scream-ety-scream come the sound, and my flesh crawled all over asif in a nightmare, and I sweat like rain. Now the scream wascontinual, and I heard every bound the fury made! Now it stopped. Itwas back only half a mile, where I throwed down my squirrel and birds!Two minutes more would bring him afore me;--yes, one, --for on hebounded and yelled more dreadful than ever; and Bose cuddled closer tomy feet, and brustled up his hair all over; showed me his sharp teethwere in, and give a look that said, 'Keep your gun ready, and I'll nabhim as quick as you fire. '

"Them last yells fairly crazed me from top to toe, with courage; andnow he jumped in full sight--over logs and through bushes, with headdown, snuffing close on my track! Leap-ety-leap, he bounced to theskin and turkey; and O, such fiery eyes as then glared and blazed! andsuch yells as he give! Then up started the hair on his ridgy back, andthrash, thrash, to and fro, like a mad cat's, throbbed his tail! and hesnuffed for my track again. I raised my old gun, and partly gettingthe scent, he turned his head upwards, and his eyes flashed fire in myface! But afore he could spring on me, I plumped a charge into hisface and eyes, and dropped him, as Aunt Polly did the tory. Then Bosemade a lunge on the critter; but he warn't dead yet, and in theygrappled for life or death! Then dog's hair and painter's hair flewlike flax in the brake, I tell you. And then there was growling andcraunching, I reckon. I see Bose was going to be worsted, and I closedin to give him a lift. My sleeves were scratched off in a jiffy, andthe skin striddled from my arms. And such flashes of fire from themblazing eyes, and such a growl as I got for my pains! I jumped backbehind a tree; the painter jumped after me, and just missed my legs, tearing away my old leather breeches from the knees, where I patched'em with a stocking the day afore. Then Bose sprung on the painter, and I closed in again; and just as the beast made for a bigger bite ofme, as luck would have it, I stuck my old butcher-knife through hisheart, and he fell down dead on my feet. 

"When that was done, and I was safe, I felt pale, you may depend! Iset down, and poor Bose laid his bloody head in my lap, and licked myhands, and whined for joy; and I was so thankful to the old fellow, Ikissed him, I did, and cried like a baby. 

"But it was getting dark, and more painters might come, or a pack ofhowling wolves be on me; so taking only my turkey and gun, I drawed abee line homeward. I went about a mile, and heard wolves howl a goodways off; but now I knew I was pretty near home, and my fears left me;while soon my log shanty hove in sight, and Huldah met me on the edgeof the clearing, and said, 'I begun to be concerned about you. What!only one turkey? Well, that is better'n none. The chores are alldone, and supper is waiting. '"

"That was a narrow escape, indeed, " said Fabens. 

"That makes your bear-chase a clever game o' tag, " said Wilson. 

"That's a good ending for a hunting-feast, " said Mr. Waldron; and thecompany drew back from the table, and thanking Aunt Polly for her finesupper, they all went away to their homes. 

V. 

JULIA WILMER. 

A delightful ride of a single day, and most of the distance on therail-way, will carry us now through a grand succession of wavingharvests and verdant woods, of swarming hamlets and splendid towns, from the Cayuga to the Hudson, and set us down in Cloverdale, whoselovely homes nestle like a brood of milk-white doves in the covert ofthe Rensselaer hills. And then performing a journey of thought alittle more rapid and long, we return to the time of our story, recalling the year and season, and admit another character to our scene. 

We find it a pleasant afternoon for a walk. The blue Indian summeropens blandly around, and imbibing beauty and gladness through everysense and pore, we walk a good while, and then turn our steps to themansion of the Masons; enjoy a free talk and a cozy cup of tea, and geta glance at Julia Wilmer. 

The Masons have a lower and narrower mansion than they mean to have ina very few years; and their family grows, and crowds it too much; butit has a neat appearance, and the elms and maples in front, and theapples and peaches on the sides and rear, give it pleasant shades anddelicious comforts. And the moral and mental scenery within, has manylights, and verdures and fruits. 

The Masons are very good people. They are honest and industrious; theyoften relieve distress; and they have a few fine volumes on the dresserthat most of them know by heart. The principal fault that any onefinds with the Masons is, that they are too exacting in a bargain, toograsping for money and lands, and expect and demand, too much of theirservants. 

Julia Wilmer loves them, for they took her when an orphan, gave her acomfortable home, and reared her to womanhood with virtue, intelligenceand hope. 

And we see that Julia carries a crimson face, and smiling look;although she stoops considerably, and her long arms and loping gait, make her appear to many, ungainly; she is ruddy as a rareripe peach, and smiles from her forehead and eyes, and face and mouth. 

But a feeling of sadness agitates our heart as we glance at Julia'shistory. Orphanage presents, in the brightest relief, one of thesaddest sights that our weeping eyes behold; and hers was especiallysad. Her father, mother and two sisters were all carried off to thegrave in the space of one week, which she was spending abroad with apoor relative; and she was left without the comfort of a parting wordor kiss, and cast upon the world at a tender and almost helpless age, with no provision for her welfare. Her poor sobbing heart came wellnigh breaking, and though her pitiful condition, and her sweet andattracting manners, ensured her much sympathy, and many friends; yetnone could think to offer her a home, and take the place of her family, but the Masons, of whom we speak. They took her home at last, and gaveher shelter from the storms. They engaged to rear her to womanhood, and shield her from harm and need. They were always kind to her, andshe never received a harsh word or look from them. They cultured herfine sense, and gave her a knowledge of books and things. They trainedher against deceptions. They gave her entire person, the reason, thewill, affections and form, as finished an education, as one often foundat that day among intelligent farmers. 

And yet they did not do right by Julia. She was large of her age, andall the more tender for being large; and they tasked her too severely, and exacted too much of her. She performed boy's work too often; shewas dropping potatoes or pulling weeds, or spreading hay in the field, when she ought to have been sewing or doing house-work; she milked toomany cows; she carried too many pails of sap in the sugar bush; shegleaned too much wheat; she sewed on hard sewing too long at a time;she spun too much wool and flax, and turned too many cheeses. Theconsequence was, that while she retained much of a superabundantcheerfulness, she was stoop-shouldered, and looked narrow over thechest; her form was less elastic, and her hands were hard and homely. 

But if Matthew Fabens had searched the wide world over, he would nothave found a better bride than she. He had known her from a child, andcould well appreciate her intelligence and worth. He chose her in alove, whose affiance was sanctioned in heaven; and after three years'absence in the Lake Country, he and Julia met again at his father'shouse. 

The joy of that home, at that meeting, you may well imagine, was heartyand high. The young people feared it was too much to enjoy long. Theold people wept and smiled, and pressed and fondled their son inchildish delight, and asked if it could be he, or did they not dream?and how he had been, and if he still set his heart on his western home. They rejoiced till midnight, and hurried each other with questions, andwearied each other with talk. 

"It looks pleasant as ever in Cloverdale, " said Matthew. "Home ishome, after all. The old hills looked so good, I wanted to kiss 'em, when they hove in sight. Nothing appears altered; the old church looksgood as ever; and the old elm-tree seemed to know me, and welcome meback with its waving limbs; and the house here--every room is just as Ileft it; and the water from the well tastes as cold and sweet; and Icannot see but you all look about as you did, when I went away. I knewfather would hold his age; but I expected mother would look a littleolder. Julia, if she's altered at all, her hair is more of a chestnut, her cheeks are rounder, and a little more ruddy, and she is straighterthan she was. But none of you can tell how I feel to see you all oncemore, and sit down under this old roof again. Home is home, after all!"

"You'll hate to go back again, won't you, Matthew?" asked Major Fabens. 

"I shall grieve to leave you and mother again, but I am not quite readyto have you go on with me this time. I want to do more to my farm; Iwant to build an addition to my log-house for you, and prepare a littlemore to make you comfortable. Yes, I shall always feel sad to leaveCloverdale, though I like the Waldron Settlement quite as well. "

"Think you can get a living, and build up a manhood there then, do you?"

"A good living, I am sure I can get; I hope I may build up a manhood. I like the country well; it is a rich soil, and very easy to cultivate. My cornfield is as mellow as a bed of ashes this year; I had a finefield of red-chaff wheat, with full heads, a plump berry, and straw asbright as a dollar; and I wish I could have brought down some of my bigpumpkins and melons. "

"I think I shall like it pretty well, if I live to get there; I love anew country; it gives you more space to breathe in. The air issweeter, the woods are grander, the grass is greener, crops are moreperfect, neighbors are freer-hearted, and a man prospers faster there. You have good neighbors, and I hear that you have some good times inthe settlement. Think you will like a home in the wild, wild woods, Julia?"

"I think I shall. Cousin John lives where it is quite new, and I amdelighted to go there. I know I shall like it on the Cayuga. I willbe in my joy, setting my table for a hunting party, or a harvest feast. "

"I know you will all like it, and when we all get there, if Heavensmiles, my joy will be complete. "

They retired, and attempted to sleep; the morning came, and Matthewrose and completed the circuit of his calls and visits. A week flewaway, and his visiting was done, and Julia Wilmer was Julia Fabens, andwith the blessings of fond parents, they departed for their far foresthome. 

The journey was long and difficult for Julia to undertake. They couldnot then journey as now, on the rapid railway, winding green valleys, ascending great hills, and gliding through cities and towns, with asgentle a whirl, and as jocund a clack as if spinning skeins of silk. They mounted the tardy wagon, and rattled and jounced along behind aloitering team. But Julia had fortitude and spirit, to meet fatiguesand discouragements bravely. Her early experience now furnished thefruits that could most refresh her heart; the fruits of courage, hope, and self-assistance. She expected the journey of life would not alwaysbe smooth, and she hoped it would not have more to buffet her joy, orjostle, or weary, than the road to the Waldron Settlement. 

They came to the land of lakes. Emerging from a dense forest, on thelast morning of the journey, they welcomed the light of an opening, andthe sweet Skaneateles glowed upon their eyes. They were moving alongits foot, and it glimmered and waved like a lake of quicksilver, inreply to the smiles of a splendid sky. 

"Is this your Cayuga? How lovely!--What! are we in the settlement sosoon?" asked Julia, with joy flashing from her eyes, and hoperekindling on her cheeks. 

"No, we are near the settlement, " said Matthew. "This is theSkaneateles. Have courage, my dear. I have brought you over a long, rough way. You are weary, I know, but have courage now. We shallreach home to-night. "

They refreshed themselves with luncheon from their basket, and cool, sweet water from the lake, and rode on a few hours longer, and anotherlake saluted them with a bright smile of welcome. 

"Then, this is your Cayuga?"

"No, this is the Owasco; but we have not far to go. Cheer up, Julia, cheer up, now, and prepare your dainty eyes for a peep at the loveliestEden. "

They rode awhile longer, and another lake burst in beauty on theirgaze. "I know that is it, and here we come to the settlement. Ideclare it is a lovely spot, worth coming to see! What waters, andwoods, and fields! I shall love this place, I know I shall. Ho! therecomes Uncle Walter to meet us now!"

And Uncle Walter was followed by Aunt Huldah, and Matthew and Juliawere heartily shaken, questioned and kissed, and led into the house, and served to hospitalities, that would flatter and refresh theproudest mortal's heart. 

VI. 

THE NEW HOME AND SETTLEMENT. 

Matthew and Julia rose in the morning and went into their new home. Itwas a great change for Julia, and nothing but contrasts reminded her ofher home at Mr. Mason's. But somehow it suited her heart the momentshe entered its doorway, and she took charge of its interests withpride and joy; and hours, and days, and weeks, and months, and yearspassed by with a much more rapid flight than before she was a bride. 

And following the steps of Time through a few more rounds of his race, and omitting to note the common events that rise up on the way, we willnow pause at a new stage of action, and attempt to recall the scenes. The house remains yet before us, the same as when Julia first saw it, except that a small addition has been built and furnished; a partitiontakes off a bedroom from one end, and another window has been cut andset in the chamber. It is a handsome log house as one would find inall the Waldron Settlement. It is long and wide. The logs are hewn onthe inside; it has a white maple floor below, and a white basswoodfloor above; it has a large open fireplace, and a stick chimney, through which, as through a telescope, the stars may be counted atnight; and, whitewashed above and around, it presents a neat andpleasant appearance. 

The house stands on an eminence which overlooks nearly every field onthe farm, and admits you to sights as distant as the blue mountainfringes lifted away beyond Ithaca in the south. There are maples, ashes, and elms in the door-yard; there is a beautiful garden on theeast, and a cool and delightful spring of water on the west. There isa log barn, thatched with straw, on the right; and barracks for wheatand hay, and cribs for corn, on the left. There is already a finemeadow of timothy, with white-ash shade trees, waving on the north; apasture beyond the garden on the east, and a wheat-field on the south. Then a cornfield greets you west, and your eyes enjoy the scene. 

Around this lovely spot, the distance of a field on either side of thehouse, the woods still wave their crowns of majesty, and hide theOwasco, and most of the Cayuga from view. 

As master of this little rural domain, you behold Matthew Fabens, nowgrown to ample manhood; and he would make a fine bust for Powers to cutin marble. He stands six feet one without his shoes; he is straight asthe white-ash shade tree that honors the north meadow; and his body, and arms, and legs, are round, and hard, and clean. He has a fineturned head, deficient most in caution; high in benevolence, veneration, and conscientiousness; and full in the regions that show hecan construct his own implements and comforts; arrange his farm withorder and taste; estimate values at a glance, and cast up accountswithout a slate and pencil. He has a fine turned Roman nose of thecleanest and fairest skin; he has a well-shaped ear, rounded, andseparate at the bottom from the head; he has brown hair, and dark grayeyes; he has a noble face and brilliant countenance; he has teethstanding straight, and square and separate, and though they never werebrushed, they glisten with the cleanest and smoothest ivory polish; hehas a good-sized mouth, not too compressed, like a skin-flint's, nortoo open or lax like a fool's. He has a chin, throat, and chest, showing energy of soul and body combined; and if twenty years older, hewould do fine honors to a president's chair. 

Yonder, in the garden, arranging beds for winter vegetables, andtending a few simple flowers, you behold Julia Fabens, and she hasquite outgrown the bend in her good form, which hard work brought on atMason's, and looks more mature, and hardy; and she is diligent as aparent robin, and rosy and glad as the sweet summer morn. 

Wiping the sweat from their frank foreheads and faces, there in thecool, fresh current of air, sit Major Fabens and his venerable wife, come on to this new country to draw freer breath, taste fairer fruit, see greener thrift, and make a good son happy; and they are justreturned from a ramble by the lake. 

Out near the well curb, toward the green maple on the right, plays ourloved little Clinton, the plump and laughing idol of the place; tossinghis ball out of sight into that cluster of golden mullens, and thenscampering full tilt after the broods of young chickens and turkeysthat peep about the door. Clinton is a promising boy, and the worst ofit is, he begins to find it out. But everybody likes him. He has mostof his father's look, with his mother's force and caution added, helaughs all over his cunning little face; his yellow locks crinkle allover his head; and his hands are so soft, and his neck so fat andclean, you love to catch him to your heart, and hug him, and chucklebeneath his chin, and carry away his sweetest strawberry kisses. 

And stretched on the grass-plat before the door, sleeps the good dogJowler; shaggy and rough as a wolf; yet faithful and kind; resting froma range in the woods, and dreaming of squirrels and coons. 

Look around you a little, and tell us where is a handsomer spot! True, it has not the ornament and regularity of an old estate. Handsomebuildings, and the smoothest meadow-lands are nowhere to be seen. Thestir and strife of a village are not here, nor the signs of ancientopulence, except what Nature boasts; nor the voice of cultivated music. But walk about, and view the scene. 

The woods are arrayed in all their pomp and splendor; the fields havethe warmest and richest light to kindle their royal verdures; along thetrails, and in every little tract of sunshine, the flowers of theforest hold forth their sweet and modest blooms; and while birds ofevery wing and song, continue their full concert from twilight totwilight, you may hear, if you listen, the chime of the cheeringcowbell, made mellow by the distance, wakening the music of contentmentin the heart, tolling the steps of the tripping hours, and sounding thenotes of rural bliss. 

We set out in company to visit the settlers, and the birds salute us onour way, and the air comes cool and fragrant to our lips. We pause andsurvey the sugar camp, and a herd of fleet deer caper by, leading atroop of frolicking fawns, and seeming to send back the word, "see ourdarlings. " Casting your eyes aloft to the top of that tall maple, youdiscover a bee tree, and behold numberless diligent little beings goingand coming on the business of a miniature state. Then you hear thechip-squirrels chirrup, and the red squirrels mock; then the hen-hawkschatter and shriek in the air, and the crows caw and clamor; thethrushes and swamp robins bandy their boasts in challenges of music;the blue jay gossips, and the cuckoo cries. 

"Whose cabin is this?" do you inquire? Tilly Troffater's. Aswaggering, boisterous little body too, is he, and his legs are shortand bandy, as you have seen a creeper cockerel's: he has one eye blackand one eye blue, and both are glazed and dull as the knobs on earthentea-pot covers. His ears are round, and stick forward like a weasel's;his form is square and supple, and he stands more than perpendicular. Ready and sharp is he for a joke, cold and unfeeling in manner, andtroublesome as the varlet blackbirds that sit on a tree and gabble andmoot, while other birds give you music. 

There sits his wife, milking the late-found cow. She has a ludicrouslook. An old rag of linsey-woolsey hugs her spindle form; her teethare shovels, and cleave down her nether lip; her eyes catch every pointof the compass across each other's glance; her forehead is low, herhair, a smoky white, and her voice, now flat, now treble, and nowsharp. But a kinder, or more guileless heart never warmed a humanbreast, than that which lies in Dinah Troffater's; and whoever were infault regarding her strange looks, they cannot criminate her asaccessary. She milks the cow, and yonder come leaping like vagrantfoxes, her half-wild children, with a few dry sticks for the cabin fire. 

Going on two miles farther, we come to Mr. Waldron's, and find himnestled quietly under a hill in his double log-house, with a view ofthe lake on the west, and with comforts all around him. We find AuntPolly too, and she lays down her distaff, welcomes us in, tells us astory of the backwoods, and gives us a taste of her new metheglin. 

Then we come to Uncle Walter Mowry's, and hear he is off on a hunt inthe woods, while Aunt Huldah excuses the soap and sand on her hands, and welcomes us in with joy. 

Then we give Teezle a visit; then we see Wilson, and enter the shop onthe stream, where he makes chairs, shoes, and carpenter-work on a rainyday; and he reminds us of the bear hunt. Then we see Flaxman, and hearhim and Phoebe sing the same old nasal song, and observe their thriftand comfort. Then we visit Colwell, and the wives and children of allgreet us with kindness, and a frank good-will in all their words andlooks. Upon every heart among them, excepting the heart of Troffater, fraternity, courage and hope, luxuriate in harvests as rank and rich, as the woods and fields around; and through their clear eyes, we cansee the honest thoughts of their free and guileless souls, as we seethe shells and pebbles through the waters of the lake. 

We find it a goodly settlement, and you can picture in your mind thehappiness Fabens enjoys, as he brings each new acre to the harrow, andreaps the rewards of his manly toils. You remain a whole month in hishospitable home. 

You miss many comforts and luxuries, found in country and town, at thepresent day. You remark the absence of all outward polish andornament, which get names for refinement in established society. Thereare no capacious parlors, or splendid lamps to attract you; no sofasbut moss-cushioned logs in the woods; no ottomans unless a green bankof wood-grass will serve you, and neither harp nor piano but thedistaff and wheel. All is simple; all is arranged for convenience andcomfort, as new homes in the backwoods ever are found; and to you itmay seem odd enough to live so. 

You may fancy how simple a lad from this region would appear as hemight pass your city streets, with his long arms and loping gait;reading signs and staring at all the city wonders. You may fancy thebackwoods maiden would look verdant and soft in her rustic frock andclumsy calf-skin shoes, leaning well to her way as she walked, andseeming to devour all city sights and sounds. But think you, they havenot drank great spirit and beautiful sense from the breasts of Nature?Is it nothing that the backwoods boy lies down in clover meadows, andrambles in maple woods, and hears the bobolink and swamp robin sing;starts at the sound of Logan's cuckoo, and imitates her lay?

And is it less that the backwoods maiden spins flax and wool; makes thefields and woods her flower garden; washes the freckles from her facein Aurora's rosiest dew; romps like a wild doe in the valleys; bringsapples from the orchard, and berries from the hills; and like Lavinia, gleans Palemon's fields?

But your heart imbibes the lovely simplicity; your voice falls intotune with voices around you; and more and more do you love that rurallittle home, and all its verdant views. 

Happier and purer are you made by the wise words of Major Fabens andhis wife. Kindly and more free-hearted you grow in the sphere of JuliaFabens, whose innocent, womanly nature breathes in unison with all thatis joyful and pure; whose presence is the life and smile of the place. If you have in your soul one sympathy that takes to children, you mustalso love that rosy miniature Fabens, the idolized Clinton, as he viesin his sports with the birds and squirrels; gives chase to butterfliesand bees; and races around the house drawing smiles on his antics;darting from sight now and then like a spirit, and making house, andfields and woods resound with his merry warble and glee. 

A month goes away so pleasantly, you conclude to spend the summer withthem; and a bright and blissful summer it is as your young heart hasever enjoyed. You cannot stand idle, despising labor. You catch theimpulse of the place and people, and none are more ready than you fortasks that test courage and strength, and make the warm sweat flood theglowing face. You are up and away in the morning before thewhippoorwill closes her song; and are breathing the fragrant air, andenjoying the brisk exercise that gives the best sauce for breakfast. 

You would hunt the stray cow, but you fear being lost, or devoured bywild beasts. You are out on the fallow as they prepare to burn it; andyou carry fire to a dozen brush heaps, while Fabens and his father firethe rest; and behold, the flames meet together in a curtain, and runand roar like the waves of a burning sea. 

You count the ages of the trees by the rings on the stumps, and say, here is a walnut that flourished with Washington; there is a maple ofMilton's age; and this old oak was a brave young tree when Columbus wasborn. This ring records a dry season, and that a wet season; this awarm one, and that a cold. What made this elm so stocky and firm andhigh, and gave it such mighty roots and massive limbs? It grew quitealone on the hill, took the storm with the sunshine, and battled theblast while others slept in peace. What made this poplar so weakly?It grew in the thicket, and was sheltered from sun and storm. You seein the trees fine types of human life. 

You lead rosy Clinton on many a glad ramble. Your strength increases, and you assist in the labors of the field. You plant corn and weed it;and in that act you sow the seeds of energy and hope in your soul, andweed it of vices and weakly shoots. You cut down fireweeds andthistles; and still dress your soul withal, more and more. You setdeadfalls for corn-pulling squirrels; and entrap with the squirrelsyour follies and fears. You watch with a watering mouth the growingmelons and blackening berries; and find sweeter than all, the melons ofhealth, arid berries of rural bliss. 

Through wood and through opening you wander free; are now on the lakein a birchen canoe, and again on the shore in an Indian wigwam. Yourtime runs out at last, and you return to society with a lagging heart, preferring the hale and cheery comforts of backwoods life, hard andhomely as are its labors, to a life where the multitude gather, andPride and Luxury rule, and Self seeks all honors, and Fashion stands agod. Your memory remains pictorial with the waters, fields and woodsof the Waldron Settlement; your dreams are illuminated with its lightsand verdures; and its pleasant times and seasons roll their rounds inmusic through your mind. 

VII. 

A CAPTIVE. 

Another year passes over our little wood-bordered world, and summeragain smiles on the settlement. The achievements of labor areexhibited in the progress of each new plantation, in the thrift, comfort, and hope of each pleasant estate. A few more families havejoined the neighborhood; a few more clearings are given to the area ofcivilization; a few more homes and joys. A new pledge of love is addedto the Fabens family, and a troop of blissful and tender interestssucceed. 

The hanging woods flourish in full foliage. Cowslips and pond-liliesstar the green marshes. Wild strawberries, large, fragrant, and sweet, redden all the knolls, crimson the horses' fetlocks, and cluster in thecorners of the fences. Herd's grass and clover struggle into bloomalong the trails and wagon roads in the forest; and the native grassesgrow scattering and small. Young orchards have shed their snowyblossoms. Corn is past its first hoeing; wheat approaches the ear;flax holds up to the light and dew the bowls of its clear blue blooms. Silver suckers and ruby mullets still linger in the inlets andvalley-streams. The horns of the deer are in the velvet. Fallows lookclean and mellow, as if ready now for the seed. Signs of promise wave;symbols of blessing bloom on all that gladdens the eye; and Fabensthanks God both morning and night for the bounties of his love. 

A morning of June tinges the reddening east with its first delicateblushes, while the cold pale moon still rides on her lonely way. Whippoorwills leave the neighboring boughs and retire to the heart ofthe woodlands; and robins and bluebirds, and thrushes and sparrows, ina grand hallelujah chorus, salute the sun on his flaming way. The howlof the wolf ceases; the voice of the water-fowl swells softly and sadlyfrom the lake; and the cowbell's chime, and house-dog's bark, makeharmony in the general song of Nature. Foxes are home from their felonexcursions; squirrels are astir; deer are on the upland, feeding. Mother Fabens abandons her pillow, and is out from the door, enjoyingher usual draught of sweet morning air. The home of her son looks goodto her as any that the round world can show; and her heart warms withjoy as she gazes on all the signs of thrift around. 

But what object is that which attracts her attention, just burstingfrom the distant thicket? The meadow is between them, enclosed onthree sides. It moves toward her. It enters the meadow from thewoods. It is lithe as a fox; and the sun, just peering above thetree-tops, reveals more and more of its beauty. A felon fox it cannotbe, out at this bold hour in quest of poultry; nor a panther, nor awolf. O! We see now; it is a fairy fawn, looking innocent as a baby;and its round sides are dappled as the trout and pickerel in the lake. What a sight of the lovely!

She hastens into the house and calls to Matthew, now rising, and he isout in a twinkling, back side of the meadow. The gentle creatureobserves him, and still is not afraid. He approaches nearer, and thefawn makes slowly for a corner, then, fearing captivity, it tries toescape between the rails. "Attempt that again, my beauty, " saysFabens, "and I'll have you in my arms. " Again goes its head betweenthe rails, and Fabens clasps it, struggling and panting like a captivebird, to his breast, and bears it in triumph to Julia in the house. 

"Beautiful creature!" "lovely lamb of the greenwood!" are theexclamations that go round, as the family stand and view it. 

"It has strayed from its dam, " says one; and, "How it must feel at thismoment!" "How soft and sleek its speckled coat!" adds another. "Andhow mild are its little eyes, and gentle as a sperit's, " exclaimsMother Fabens. 

"Will they kill it?" do you inquire. Kill it? No! How could they laya knife on that delicate throat? Its tender looks would soften a heartof stone, and insure its safety. But what will they do with thepanting prisoner? Not let it go! Little Clinton would put in hisdecided "No, no!" if they motioned to do such a thing. See how hedances and jabbers around it; touching its cool dewy nose with hislittle fat palms, clasping its velvet neck, soothing it, kissing it, and driving old Jowler out of the house, lest he may have a savageheart, which he proudly disdains, and offer to bite the beauty. Adarling prize is that trembling fawn, as ever graced a dwelling. "Andwe must keep it, " say they all. Some warm milk is offered it; but itturns its head from the basin. It is placed in a roofless corn-crib, on a bed of hay, with food before it; and Fabens works briskly for halfa day, building a house for it. The time now is of leas value, as nocrop is suffering, and he had designed a leisure day of this. Aboutone o'clock the house is completed, and the lovely captive is removedto its new home, as gently as you would lay a meek babe in its bed. 

They sat down to dinner, and the fawn was the subject of allconversation. "It shall be Clinton's pet and playmate, " said Julia;"and it shall have a bell on its neck, and eat bread and berriesshortly out of his hand. I wish little Fanny was big enough to noticethe pretty thing, and put her hand on it. "

"Dear thing!" said Mother Fabens, "it would seem like my pet lamb, inCloverdale, and I should love it, myself, as I would a child, I'llwarrant. But there, it does seem too hard to keep its nimble feet fromthe wild woods, whore it was made to caper?"

"So I think, " added the Major. "I go for giving all their liberty. Iwould not keep a saucy squirrel shut up in a cage; it would be betterto kill it. "

After a hasty dinner had been taken, they all went out again to see thepretty captive, and found it lolling in the hot sun, and looking sadand forlorn. A fresh dish of milk was placed before it, and crumbs ofsweet Indian bread were offered, but it laid down its poor head on theground, and refused all food and comfort. Fabens was melted to a tearof pity by the sight. 

"The poor thing is too sad to eat, I suppose, " said he, "and longs fora frolic in the forest. "

"I would say, down with the bars, and let it away, if it was notClinton's, " replied Julia. "It looks really hard to see it shut uphere, when its very life is liberty. But how can we spare it now?"

"See how meek and wishful it looks up to Clinton, when he pats andstrokes its neck, " said Major Fabens. "I'd like to have the prettyfellow around well enough; but it is not right to keep it from thewoods. There, it seems to sink into the ground as if all hope was gonefrom its heart. "

"The flies buzz about its milk, and bite its tender sides, and still itdon't mind 'em at all. It is too hard to keep it, so there!" addedMatthew. 

"But, wouldn't it be better for it to keep it with us, than let it gointo the dangerous woods to be killed?" asked Julia. 

"We div it more to eat, " said Clinton, "and I'll tum and seep with it, and cuddle up to its back, and Dowler shan't touch it. "

"Do what you think best, " said Julia; "but I _should_ like to keep itfor Clinton!"

"But how should we like to be in its place?" asked Matthew, "away fromour family, confined from our native sports, shut up from the free airand hills, though they would feed us well and fuss over us? I want tolet down the bars now, and see how quickly it will scamper from itsprison. "

"I feel for it as much as you can, " answered Julia. "I feel for itspoor mother; and what would I do if Clinton had strayed like the fawn, and we knew not where he was? But do keep it one day longer. Itsgentle looks may make Clinton more tender. I'll pull fresh clover, andmake its bed softer, and it shall be shaded more coolly from the sun. "

"Let it away, " said Major Fabens. "It looks so sad, may be it'll diebefore morning if you keep it penned up here;" and down went the bars, and into the house they hastened, and turned, and looked to see it leapto the woods. But it was not away in such a hurry. It rose, andwalked gently into the house after them, so tame had it become already, and remained a few moments, looking thanks for their kindness; Clintonpatted its soft shoulders, and kissed it tenderly, and then it walkedgently away, and vanished in the woods; leaving the beholders moretender and kind for the visit, more in love with liberty, and moreadmiring the beautiful creatures of God. 

VIII. 

A LAMB LOST. 

The autumn time had come, and fields, and woods, and waters were litwith its yellow beams. The blooms of spring, the splendors of summerhad departed, or were sobered for the dust. Still a beauty was on theworld. A pure, ethereal mildness breathed as from heaven, and the sunwas so kindly and glad as he rode on in glory, he gave a sweet glanceto every suppliant, whether plant or flower, or tree or man; and youcould have looked into his warm face and felt regaled by his gracioussmile. And the holy sky seemed now to stoop down and poise its breaston the bending hills, and again in majesty retire to a loftier archwayof the fair blue Infinite, and glimmer and glow like a sea of glass. Eloquent type of the face of that Father whose glory lights theheavens, whose spirit breathes, and whose love abounds in every world. 

The year had not been all sunlight or joy. Clouds had gathered anddissolved, and disappointments now and then occurred to our manlyfarmer, and called for more faith and courage. In the summer, therains were so frequent, and superfluous, his crops were damaged, andthe slopes on his fallows were cut into gullies, and swept of theirsoil. Premature frosts had nipped his corn slightly, and his buckwheatwas not worth harvesting. A tolerable crop of wheat and other grains;and a harvest of loves, and lights, and strengths, however, wereyielded him, to supply all his natural and spiritual needs, and theLord was praised for his gracious care. 

Fabens was now advanced to years of more grave reflection, and everyobject in Nature and Life addressed his mind with more suggestive andserious words. His religious impressions were deepened; and hisreligious sentiments, active and susceptible. He had studied a fewfine books, and transferred their wisdom to his heart; he had studiedNature and Scripture; and he walked in light and peaceful ways. Herelied on God as the Infinite Friend; and never a cloud was broughtover the earth, whether of storm or grief, but he called to mind thepromise of the Father, "the bow shall be seen in the cloud. "

A few frugal comforts were added to his stores, and though he laboredearly and late at tasks that demanded strong arms and rusty raiment, where a gentleman in straps and ruffles would have met mortificationswithout number, still he was happy; and like the man of faith describedin the Scripture, he abounded in blessings. 

His parents remained to bless him. His wife responded to all hissympathies, and rendered his home a perennial joy. Clinton had beentold of his fourth bright birthday, and the gladness of life budded onhis heart, and bloomed on his face. Fanny unfolded the graces ofchildhood as you have seen water-lilies unfold leaf after leaf. Fabenstore himself away from his lambs at seven in the morning, and takinghis luncheon in a basket, he proceeded to a distant clearing to worktill night. At ten o'clock Clinton was presented a new coat andtrowsers, which his mother had just finished, and he bounded about asproudly as a young deer with his first pair of antlers. Nothing woulddo but he must trip away to the clearing and show them to his father. It would be something of a venture to permit him; but he had been thereseveral times with his father, and knew the way, and he was allowed togo. A kiss to sweet mother, and a kiss to Fanny were given, and oneleft for grandmother when she returned with her basket of green cornfor dinner, and away he glided, and Julia looked after and smiled onhis glee, little suspecting what might spring up and harm him on thepath. Hour after hour expired, and Julia's mind ran after the boy; andshe asked her mother again and again if anything would be likely tobefall him. A slight fear occasionally rose, to be suppressed on asecond thought; and evening advanced while yet their hearts werecheerly and at rest. 

A fair and jocund day departed, and suddenly a dark cloud mantled theheavens, and the moonless night was falling dismal and drear. Fabenswas expected by sunset, and at the usual hour, Julia tripped to thewood-path with a light heart to meet him, and take his swinging hand inher own, as she was accustomed to do, and talk all the way to thehouse. Hastening on half a mile or more, she spied her husband risingover a distant eminence, but he came alone! Her fears were all rousedin a moment; she hurried, out of breath, to meet him, and approachinghim, called in a broken voice--"Where is Clinton? where have you lefthim?"

"Clinton?" replied Fabens in surprise; "I have not seen him sincemorning. "

"Not seen him?" ejaculated Julia; "O dear, he started to go to you thisforenoon. I'm afraid he's lost, or the wild beasts have caught him!"

"Started to come to me this forenoon?"

"Yes, I finished his new clothes, and he was so pleased, he wanted togo and show them to you. 'Twas all done without thinking a moment ofany danger. "

"Mercy, Julia! what shall we do? He is gone; here it is coming dark aspitch, --what _shall_ we do?"

"What can we do? O Lord, help us!--help us!--Dear me, I can neverforgive myself if he's lost or hurt!--Why _did_ I let him go?"

"Hurry home, Julia, and tell father and mother, and I'll run over toTroffater's; he may be there; Tilly is always teasing children andcoaxing 'em; he may have seen Clinton and coaxed him home with him. Hewas chopping by the road when I went along this morning, he may havecoaxed him home: but O, if he is not there!"

Fabens started on a run for Troffater's, and met two neighbors who hadjust come from his house; they had seen no Clinton; and assured himClinton could not be there. They all hastened to Fabens', and metJulia and the parents; but no Clinton could be heard from. Darknessextinguished the last gleam of heaven, and they shuddered and wept inagonies of grief for the lost boy. 

"How can we let the night pass without our lamb?" cried Mother Fabens. 

"Dear, dear boy!--why _did_ I let him go, when I cannot bear to havehim out of my sight? Why _did_ I let him go?" sobbed Julia frantically. 

"Will not God be gracious? O will he not be gracious?" cried Fabens. 

"There! I thought that little fawn was a forerunner of something!"exclaimed Mother Fabens. "That little fawn that came here last June. It has haunted my mind ever since. O I fear it did not come herewithout a warning?"

"But we let it go again, " cried Julia; "and will not my pretty, prettyfawn be given back to his mother again? O! O!"

"An Indian shot a fawn the same day we let that go, and in the samedirection he went. I always thought it was that handsome fellow, " saidMajor Fabens. 

"Mercy! it cannot be the fawn was a forerunner! O it cannot be that Ishall not get my Clinton again!" cried Matthew, looking as if ready toreel to the ground. "O friends, do rouse the neighbors! if he's onlylost, I'm afraid the wolves or panthers will catch him. You know howthe wolves have howled of late; and I heard a panther scream lastnight, I thought. Do rouse the neighbors to advise and help!"

The friends seized torches and were away to the first dwelling. Thenews flew around as fast as distance would permit; and by nine o'clockthe whole neighborhood were together with throbbing hearts and anxiouslooks. 

"I fetched my horn and cow-bell, " said Mr. Waldron; "I made a noise onthe way. Horns will scare off painters, and wolves don't like tootin'or clatter a mite. "

"And I brought mine, " added Uncle Walter. 

"And I mine, " added Teezle. 

"We'll blow horns and ring bells, " said Teezle; "and you, Colwell andTroffater, go and call out the Indians. They're dreadful good to scareoff animals and look for lost children. "

"Do, for Heaven's sake, --do what you can, if it is dark!" ejaculatedJulia fainting with grief. 

"O, I know you'll not leave a thing undone!" added Matthew, beseechingly. "God give us strength to bear our trouble! It ishard--it is hard to bear trouble like this!"

Colwell and Troffater started for the lake to call up the Indians fromtheir wigwams on the shore. But they were hardly out of sight beforean ominous change passed lowering over the scene. A low moaning windswept through the woods and fields, and round the house; and the leavesrustled, and the well-sweep swayed and creaked in the blast. Then adrearier dusk succeeded; a fierce and freezing gust from the lake shotby; and a long and rending roll of thunder announced the rising of aviolent storm. A fleet of ghastly vapors sailed over the zenith; andfeathery clouds floated after, opening and shutting with the thunderand silence, and showing and hiding the stars as they flew. Then along rift of lightning leaped forth and trailed its blazing banners ofwhite, red, and purple in loops and festoons round the sky; and thethunder redoubled its might, and closed in, and labored and roared, asif wrestling down the world. Flame after flame, and peal on peal, succeeded, and the storm halted over the lake and ran along its course, as if bridled for a time, and struggled, and rolled, and roared; then awild thunder rent the rein, and it ran and rested over the settlement, and spent its fury, and spun its fire. The wind blew a hurricane; therain dashed in cataracts; and every electric bolt seemed to shiver thecisterns of heaven, and empty rivers of rain. Then the lightning wasuninterrupted, and you could have read a book, or counted the trees, orviewed the lake by its constant blaze; while now and anon a wildervolley exploded, and a more furious flash flew its zigzag flight fromthe zenith to the ground. 

It lasted a long hour, and you may imagine the terror and gloom itpoured on hearts already faint with grief. You may imagine the shrieksand cries of the household; how they called on God to guard and save;how the wild, wailing mother rushed out into the storm to recover herprecious boy, and was beaten back by the wind and flood; what weretheir thoughts of his situation; what were their sobs and sighs. 

At last the storm rolled away, and Colwell and Troffater returned, andled in a band of Indians. Counsel was had, and arrangements were madefor the night. Horns were sounded; bells were rattled; tin pans andhammers were clashed together; and the dark woodlands wailed with theechoing sound. Fires were kindled, and torches flamed on every hand;and for one long night, sleep sought no pillow in the settlement. Andto thrill all hearts with keener agony, and strain each nerve and cordto its utmost tension, a little before daybreak, not a mile from thedesolate home, the fierce, wild scream of a panther was heard, startling the very air to a violent shudder, and receiving angryanswers from the low lakeshore. 

IX. 

SEEKING THE LOST LAMB IN VAIN. 

Darkness retired. The twilight glimmered on the tallest trees. Morning, so wearily watched-for, came. The clouds broke in masses, androlled tardily down the sky. Day gilded the heavens, and the tranquilbosom of the low Cayuga mantled in his beams, and reflected the gloryof his face. But to the Waldron Settlement that smiling day broughtlittle hope, and no enjoyment. A favorite child was lost from a goodlyfamily, and ill feelings were agitated, and all hearts ran after himthrough thicket and field, over hill and valley, like shepherds after alost lamb. Comfortless and faint, the family assembled at the morningaltar, and one general sob of grief, and one leaping pulse of anxietywent round. They kneeled for prayer; and the venerable father boretheir petitions before the Lord. He prayed for grace to sustain themin the trial. He acknowledged their errors; but bending at the feet ofInfinite Kindness, he was encouraged to ask for a Father's blessing. He prayed for more faith in Providence. He prayed that they might haveresignation, and that comfort might come to their hearts in therecovery of their little boy. 

Grief brooded not over that altar alone. It sat upon every face; itoccupied every home; it assailed every heart in the settlement. TillyTroffater even seemed to share somewhat of the general sorrow, thoughseldom shedding a sympathetic tear. 

"I never tuck a great likin' to childern, " said he; "but I kindy likedlittle Clint; his cheeks was so soft, and smooth, and his eyes snappedsich funny fire; and he was olers so full o' his cunnin' jabber. Ihope the painters haint ketched him. They yelled despotly last night;but I hope they haint ketched him yit. I'd like to see him agin, andbaird his dimple face for him; the pretty mischief. "

"He's worth a long hunt, " said Colwell, "and my farm won't suffer if Isearch a month. "

"I did not see how I could leave my work, " said Wilson; "but I mustgive one hunt for Clinton; I must. "

"We mustn't give him up yet. O, we can't give him up, " added UncleWalter; "we couldn't spare a soul from the settlement; we couldn'tspare the leastest of your little brats, Troffater! But where areMatthew and the Major?"

"They followed Julia to the woods, very early, to see if they couldfind a trace of the boy, " replied Mother Fabens. 

"Then we must follow them in a trice, " said Uncle Walter; and a generalcouncil was had, and it was agreed that they should form a line of allthe men and women, four rods apart, and sweep the woods for a distanceround; and with horns and bells to give salutes, and luncheon torefresh them when hungry, they marched through the moaning woods. 

Night overtook them while they looked still for day, and they returnedheavy-hearted and weary to their homes. Large and diligent had beenthe search, and all the kind Indians were out with them, but no tracecould be found of the lost boy. The Indians shook their headsdolefully, and gave signs of despair, though little was said indiscouragement, and all volunteered to continue the search the nextday. No fires were kindled that night, and only once, in an hour, thehorn was sounded, from each house, to give signs of watchfulness, andkeep the wild beasts in their distant dens. Morning returned, andanother council convened to compare suggestions, and commence anothersearch. Mother Fabens related a dream of the last night, and allgathered around, to hear it. She dreamed that Clinton was passing nearthe sugar camp, and a creature standing on his hind legs, rushed uponthe boy, and bore him off to a multitude that looked like the creature, and let him go free among them. That Clinton wept at first, and triedto get away, but after awhile he looked cheerful again, and stayed withthem till she awoke. 

"Dreadful!" cried poor comfortless Julia; "can it, say, can it be true?"

"But that does not show he's killed; and I will not give him up yet, "said Uncle Walter. 

"The wolves hev muttoned him afore this, you may depend, " saidTroffater. 

"I don't believe that, " said Colwell. 

"And I don't believe you do aither, " said Mr. Waldron, to Troffater. "There's a good 'eal in that dream, I say now; and it gives me hope. Come, let's give another good hunt. "

"Hugh!" groaned an Indian, dolefully; "he gone, he dead; we no find'im. "

"So I b'lieve, " added Troffater. "I dremp las night tew, as wal asGranny Fabens; but then our dreams don't agree azackly. I dremp ashaggy wolf ketched 'im. --O, _don't_ cry so, Miss Fabens!--as I wasgoin' to say--I dremp a shaggy wolf ketched 'im, and craunched thelittle feller down, as ye'd eat a tender quail. Miss Fabens, _don't_cry now!--he was all out o' misery perty quick. I dremp he was deadafore he was stript, or his little dimple hands was chanked tomince-meat; don't cry _now_. "

"You good-for-nothing torment, hold your lying tongue!" said UncleWalter, in a rage; "who wants to hear your dream? I'd call for apolecat's dream as quick. Shut your lips. _You_ talk about crying!Why, your very words tear open the woman's heart. I'm struck with whatMother Fabens tells. "

"It seemed as if I must be awake, " resumed Mother Fabens, "it was allso plain and natural. How I did feel when the creature sprung andcatched little Clinton in his paws!--Awful! But then, I've a littlemore hope from the dream. "

"So've I, Miss Fabens, " responded Uncle Walter, in a tone of greatanimation. "So've I. Come on, boys, let's look awhile longer. Come, Wilson, come, Colwell and Teezle. Come, Uncle Mose, your eyes are keenfor a look as they were when you hunted Hessians in the Jarsies. ButTroffater may step out, we can very well spare him. "

Three or four gave over, and went home. Troffater winked and crossedhis black and blue eyes, took in a quid, spit through his teeth, struckup a whistle, and departed; and the Indians manifested less zeal thanyesterday; but a large company took up the march and searched a daylonger. As night returned once more with its first faint shadows, while yet there was light on the thin carpet of newly-fallen leaves todiscern colors plainly, a cry of "here's blood!" rang out in a fearfulshriek on their ears, and they halted, and gathered at the spot towhich attention was directed. "It is blood!" said another; and "here'smore!" cried another. "See, it is sprinkled all around here!" "Andthere! see there, it looks as if there had been a scuffle!" addedanother. 

A cold thrill of horror ran around from heart to heart, and it was wellfor the Fabenses that they did not arrive, or hear the cry, until aglance before the grieving company showed them the remains of a deer, and reserved a faint hope for the morrow. 

To-morrow came and went, with no tidings of poor Clinton. Another andanother day was spent by several, who still insisted that the boy mustbe alive. Mother Fabens' dream made a strong impression, and it heldthem up from utter despair; while the Indians added a little more totheir courage by denying that the captive fawn was killed by them; forthey had not killed a fawn in a great while. The white people allbelieved more or less in portents, warnings and dreams; and trusting alittle to their vaticination now, they could not yield the lingeringhope that he was still alive. But when they came to reason, that hopewas quite extinguished. Had he been alive, and within any reasonabledistance, he would have been discovered. But no trace of him could befound even by the sharp-sighted Indians; and then the screams of thosepanthers, on the first dismal night, increased the probability of hisawful fate. Still a search was continued by three or four, and on thefifth day, they discovered a hat about a mile from the path he waspursuing, and it was found to be Clinton's, and a present to him from acousin in Cloverdale. Again was the settlement set in commotion, andagain many surmises and opinions were expressed regarding the poorboy's fate. 

But after that, no trace in wood or field was discovered to clear upthe painful mystery. The people settled down into the belief that apanther had taken him, and after he had carried him that distance, onthe way to his dark lair in the forest, the hat fell from his droopinghead, and the loose leaves settled partly over it, and concealed itfrom view on the first day's search. The parents of the child, and allhis friends, except Mother Fabens, were forced at last to the dreadfulconclusion which assured them their little fondling was no more; andtheir grief was deep and lasting. And Mother Fabens grieved sadly withthe others; but the impression of her dream still whispered hope to hersoul; and the liberation of the fawn she had never forgotten. And whenshe sickened and died a few months after, she said "it was more thanpossible that Matthew and Julia might live long enough to see Clintonalive again on earth. "

But her kindly-attempted consolations could rally their hopes no more. It was a thought that wrung their desolate hearts; but they were forcedto regard their lost boy as having perished in the grasp of some wildbeast. And that was the grief of griefs. With all the faith and hopethey could command, it shook them and bowed them down, and all thebright world for a while looked dreary and sad on their account. Itgave them ghastly dreams. It burdened their waking reveries. Itwailed in the winds, it wound the sunbeams, flowers and trees withweeds of melancholy wo. [Transcriber's note: woe?]

In the darkest day, however, their faith and hope did not quite desertthem; and after the first heavy stroke, these Christian graces rose upand strengthened them; and never were comforts so sweet as thosereceived from the Scriptures and from their religious trusts. 

"God is good, " said Fabens. "He may give us trials and griefs--and wehave had a portion. He may tear our beloved from us when least of allit may seem we can spare them. His Providence may appear in the stormand tempest; in anguish, bereavement and death; still he is good, andhe will bring good out of evil. "

X. 

THE SUGAR PARTY. 

Time went on its course like the constant roll of waters, and seasonscame and went as usual in the Waldron Settlement. A deep and earlysnow having fallen, and remained with frequent additions, a long andrigorous winter reigned in absolute sway. But now, on the last ofFebruary, the sun wheeled high on his circuits; thaws and rains ensued, and the first robin on the leafless maple sang, sweet harbinger ofspring. Winter recalled his tyrant ministers, or restrained them intheir wrath; and milder days and warmer skies appeared in pleasantalternation, with many still of tempest and gloom. 

The milder days multiplied; the snow had less depth on the earth, andnow came on the season of sugar making. In all our forest regionmagnificent sugar maples abounded like an orchard, and Fabens preparedfor his spring encampment in the bush. His shanty was repaired withnew bark on the roof, and a fresh carpet of clean wheat straw on therough bark floor; his kettles were hung; his troughs were turned up bythe trees and cleaned of the mould and cobwebs of the last season;sleek slanting boxes were cut in the sides of the noble maples in theprocess of tapping, and spouts driven under to conduct the sap to thetroughs; and quick was his step and diligent his labor, to gather andboil so fast that his troughs would not run over. 

The camp was within hearing distance of the house, and his father, though trembling with age, went out to keep him company, and attend tothe fire and kettles, while he was away with two pails, gathering thedelicious flowings of his maples. 

And Julia, too, was there on many a pleasant afternoon, plying her busydistaff in the shanty; and Fanny lent gladness to the scene; leapinglike a merry fawn about the little opening, and amid the clusteringbushes; her face lustrous and soft as a velvet peach; her voiceblithesome as the pee-wee's, and clear and sweet as the robin's. 

"And if Clinton could be here, too!" sighed the bereaved mother. "Dear, dear Clinton! if he could be here, O would we not be happy?"

"How I would kiss him, and say, 'Good brother, ' and feed him, andcrinkle his curly hair, if he would come back!" added Fanny. 

To one fond of the romance of rural life, a scene like this addressesmany attractive charms. The evenings were clear and beautiful; a classof the grandest constellations took their course in the sky, and rainedtheir holy lights, while the winds were asleep in their caves, and keenfrosts came down each night to increase the morrow's run; the days werewarm and agreeable with bracing air and kindly sunshine; and theforests were roused from their stillness by the sound of the axe, theshrill reports of the frost escaping from the trees, and the notes of afew birds that carolled of the coming spring-time. 

Fabens had, for some time, felt the advances of spring in his heart;and he had a heart in the season and in its manly toils. He remainedin the camp over night when his maples had given a copious run, andtended his kettles, to boil and save what the bounty of Providence solavishly furnished. He had no one with him but his dog, and yet he wasnever alone. His thoughts were his companions, his hopes, his pleasingpastimes. A veil of blinding atmosphere hung over him, and his eyesperceived no objects beyond his camp but the solemn trees and the loftystars; and yet his mind was not muffled up in that veil. When Jesusdied, the veil of God's temple was rent in twain; the veil betweenearth and heaven; and though that veil would continue to hang in itsplace for a time; and he could not make maps of the heavenly world, orlocate the constellations of all its starry glories, or gossip with itsunseen citizens, as with familiars here; still Faith saw light enoughstreaming through the rent in the veil to raise and enlarge his soul;and Hope saw light enough to replume her wings and re-adjust hervision. God embosomed him in his spiritual presence; Christ was to himnot a cold and distant phantasm, but a warm and intimate friend. Goodspirits were all about him, he believed, though he heard not theirvoices, and knew not their names; and they were coming and going onGod's errands of love and light. A soft breath fanned his forehead; asweet emotion filled his heart; a burst of light broke like morning onhis mind; and he found it easy to conceive them the touch and gift ofsome guardian being whom God had sent with the answers of his prayers. And who could say but it might be the spirit of Clinton, or Matthew'sascended mother, whom God had thus employed?

Call it not superstition, if such were his thoughts. It is a guilelessheart, and a lofty faith that can thus sense the presence of God, anddwell in the blissful assurance that angels guard the inhabitants ofearth, though we see and hear them not; as we believe, at noonday thestars stand sentinels above, although they are veiled from our view. 

At times, moreover, that wild encampment was the scene of socialenjoyment. It was a custom in the settlement to give parties in thebush, and cultivate feelings of love and friendship. They were rudeindeed, and there was observed none of the pretence of etiquette whichpasses for refinement in fashionable circles. Still there was genuinesentiment manifested, and an honest and simple refinement of soul, superior to any outward elegance. Some of the settlers, it is true, were strangers to those religious sensibilities enjoyed by Fabens andhis family; and they read Nature and Humanity with a different eye fromhis, and received different impressions. There was that in the mannerof the Teezles, the Colwells, the Flaxmans, and others, which at timesmight appear low and vulgar, to persons educated in a different sphereof life; but even in their hearts, there was an open truthfulness whichgave signs of real nobility; and a full flowing sympathy, a solidcommon sense, a love of principle, a love of the good and noble, against which mere surface refinement and polite words, empty of souland meaning, would weigh but as feathers in the scale. 

They possessed heart and soul in the richest raw material. They werefull-grown, ripened specimens of aboriginal life. They had a plumpberry, as the farmers say, and came to the sickle without cockle, orrust, or weevil, or smut. They were as thrifty vines, and needed onlyto be trimmed and trained. They were as virgin gold in the bullion, and wanted to be melted and minted into coin. They were as statuesrough-hewn at the quarry, and would have ripened to forms of majesticbeauty, with brows like Jove and Minerva; with bosoms like Venus, cheeks like Ceres, and lips like Apollo, had the chisel of art butsculptured them out, rounded them off, and polished them down to anelegant, ornate life. 

During the season in mention, there had been several sugar parties, andnow came Fabens' turn to reciprocate the compliment. So, one pleasantday, when there was a slight cessation in the run, he received a fewneighbors to his camp, to spend an afternoon and evening. 

Uncle Walter and his wife came over at an early hour; Thomas Teezle andhis wife, and their bouncing, cherry-lipped daughter, Rebecca Ann, werepresent, confessing to none for a lack of pleasure. Mr. Wilson and hiswife were on hand, with kindly word and cheerful face, and tarried toshare the latest social sweet; and the son and daughter of a newfamily, Lot and Nancy Nimblet, came with them, and expressed muchdelight with a feast so rural and agreeable. 

A new carpet of straw was spread on the shanty floor, and the neatnessof the ground before it, and around the little opening, gave evidenceof the neatness and interest of Julia Fabens. All declared it apleasant afternoon, and just in the nick of time for a sugar party. Uncle Walter was called on for a story, and he gave one of his best, with a witch of a tongue, that fairly reversed the wheels of time, andtrundled them back to the wild, wild forest again, and tumbled them outamid screaming panthers, and howling wolves. Mr. And Mrs. Flaxman sanga merry song, in a merry nasal tune. Aunt Polly Waldron _had_ to tellof the tory that fired her barn and ripped up her feather bed; and howhe whooped and keeled when she dropped him, and how many tories andIndians ran away. Then, Mr. Waldron told a story, and Major Fabensfollowed. 

Fabens the younger, and his sensible wife, contributed their share tointerest the party, and though they were unusually cheerful and social, there was an elevated tone of sobriety in all they uttered, which hadits happy and refining influence on every heart. 

Early in the afternoon, a kettle of sugar was set before them, andlittle banks of the clearest crystal snow were placed around forcoolers, and then with wooden spoons, and grateful appetites, the feastwas enjoyed. As the sugar but increased their relish for the eveningrefreshment, they partook of that when served, with a still betterzest, and many kind expressions and feelings, and many jets of wit andglee, were interchanged at the meal. A pleasant plant grew in themarshes of that country, called evan-root, which, when boiled in sap, and tempered with cream, made a delicious beverage, tasting likecoffee; and their nice broiled venison, and Indian bread, washed downwith flowing cups of that favorite drink, was a banquet worthy of apresident. 

"A president should go hungry, " said Uncle Walter, "if his daintypalate didn't relish a supper like this. "

"A president should relish any food that is fit for his humblestfellow-citizens, " answered Fabens. "And a president worthy of hisstation, would honor our rude occupation as much as his own, and sharewith pleasure the humblest wholesome meal. What is a president afterall, but the servant we employ to look after our affairs, to berespected according to his competence and faithfulness, and the amountof service he does? And nothing, I am sure, can be found in thegrandest entertainment to exhibit refinement, and call forth honor, sowell as the _heart_ with which it is given and enjoyed. "

"I guess Troffater would kindy like to be here, " said Colwell. "I seenhim when I was comin', and he looked sour, and said he wasn't invited. Did ye mean to make a bridge o' his nose?"

"I would do Troffater a kindness as soon as anybody, " answered Fabens;"but his shocking levity, I have often told him, displeases us, and hiscompany was not desired. He is old enough to speak with cleaner lips. If I could hope to improve him any, I would invite and visit him often. We do mean to visit his family, and ask them to our house. "

"He's havin' the sulks the natteral way, " said Colwell. 

"He's mad as a March hare, and says, he axes no odds o' Mat Fabens, "added Teezle. 

"Speak low, " said Wilson, "I'll warrant, he's near us this very minute;he's olers spookin' about, and eaves-droppin'. "

"Let him spook about and eaves-drop, " said Fabens, "I owe him nothing, but pity for his disposition, and I would say all I have said, andmore, to his face. There is one comfort! God has power to give him abetter heart, and I hope some day he will. "

"I dun know about that, " said Colwell. "Mebby he can, but it will takemore brimstun than the critter's worth to cleanse his rotten sperit. "

"And they'll have to break in an egg or two after that, I guess, tomake it white and clear, as Aunt Polly does her sugar, " added Teezle. 

"Don't make light of it, " said Fabens. "With God all things good arepossible. I would not add a single pain to his misery. Who of us--"

"There! there, see that light in the bushes yonder!" screamed NancyNimblet, who had been frightened by the idea that they were watched, and had been looking around the camp for sights of alarm. "That lightyonder!--what is it?--what is it?"

"A Jack-o'-lantern, may be, and may be somethin' wuss, " said Colwell, rising. 

"A ball of fire!--what can it be? see, it comes towards us!" addedUncle Walter. 

"It's right where we found little Clinton's hat, " cried Mrs. Fabens, pale with terror. "O, dear, what can it be? He couldn't have beenmurdered, my dear Clinton couldn't have been murdered, and thatappeared to reveal his fate!"

"I'll warrant that's it!" answered Teezle. "Square Peasley seen alight, and heerd a gugglin' groan where the pedlar had his throat cutin Cloverdale, you know. "

"See there! see there!--it comes nearer!--look at it now; it has eyes, and ears!--see its awful nose and mouth, " cried Aunt Polly Waldron. 

"What shall we do?" screamed Nancy Nimblet, all in a tremble. "It willhurt us!--it will kill us! where shall I go?"

"Be quiet, be calm, it cannot hurt you, " said Fabens soothingly; "itcan't hurt any one. God wouldn't let it. "

"Awful!" shrieked Mr. And Mrs. Flaxman in one nasal; scream, "let usrun, let us run!"

"It's an evil spirit, " said Wilson. 

"The old pot-metal Cuss himself has come for us!" cried Uncle Walter. "If I know anything about the Devil, that's him; that's his head andears, and eyes and teeth, I'll bet a turkey they are!"

"No, no, it cannot be an evil spirit or the Devil, " said Fabens, calmly. "The Devil would not appear in such a form to us, and God willguard us from evil spirits. "

An agony of terror shook the whole company. Stern and brave UncleWalter, who could stand before wolves and bears; who could beard thefierce panther in his den, and count his snarling teeth, --even hebelieved in ghosts, and was afraid of sights and apparitions. It was ahorrible object, spirit, devil, or whatever it might be. It lookedlike a ball of fire, and had features of a grim half-human thing, withhuge ears, a wide mouth and grinning rows of monstrous teeth; and theyfancied they saw a black body and long tail below it. As they gazed ina transport of terror, Fabens escaped unobserved from the company, passed softly around through the woods, and coming up behind the foulfiend, he grasped its dark form in his arms, and found as he suspected, that it was no other devil than little tantalizing Troffater, with acarved squash shell, set out with an ox's ears, on his head, bearinghis idea of a devil's image, and lighted within by a brilliant candle!

The terror of the company soon subsided, and Fabens admonished themagainst yielding again to such senseless fears; while they all departedfor their homes, and the poor transgressor was discharged with areprimand so sharpened by kindness that it seemed to cleave his heart. 

XI. 

FABENS PROMOTED TO HONOR. 

In four years more, the Waldron Settlement had grown to quite a colony;for the area of civilization extended from the Cayuga to the Owasco, and ten miles north and south; and though the population numberedseveral hundred families, and the inroads of fashion and pride began tobe perceptible there, still it remained a neighborhood; and with fewexceptions, the people exchanged neighborly offices and lovesthroughout the settlement. 

The inhabitants now felt the importance of their flourishing community, and made a movement to be organized into a township, and have townofficers, and better regulations. That movement was successful, andthe town took the name of Summerfield, and a warm and summer-green townit was as the Lake Country had to show. 

Walter Mowry was elected the first Supervisor, and Matthew Fabens, thefirst Justice of the Peace. 

At this late period, public offices are so plenty, and so often held bypersons whose devotion to party, or whose failure in other pursuits istheir only recommendation, that the plain and humble office of Justiceof the Peace receives little respect, and would find few candidates, but for the lucrative interests which induce many to ask it. It wasnot so, forty years ago in the Lake Country. At that primitive period, that responsible office was given to no one who had not moralqualifications to recommend him; and the person who held it was honoredas possessing capabilities equal to his duties, and holding along withthese the affection and faith of the town. 

When the organization was first proposed, and the several offices werenamed, the eyes of the settlement, with two or three exceptions, wereturned to Fabens, as the man best qualified to administer justice andpeace among them; and to elect him to that station was simply to say'thus shall it be with the man whom we delight to honor. '

Of written laws, and their points and subtleties, Fabens confessedhimself ignorant. Coke and Blackstone were never on his shelves. Hehad read a stray leaf from Hooker, and these words were incorporated asso many notes of divine music in his soul--"No less can be said of Law, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice is the harmony of theworld. All things in heaven and earth do her homage; the very least, as feeling her care; the greatest, as not exempted from her power. Both angels and men, and creatures of whatsoever condition, though eachin different sort and manner; yet each and all with uniform consentadmiring her as the mother of their peace and joy;"--and this was hisidea of law, and about all he had gathered on law from books. 

And as for the responsibilities committed to his trust, he fain wouldhave refused them, and proposed another candidate for the office; butknowing the simple principles of justice; having a heart attuned to theharmony of earth and heaven; having Peace as an angel dwelling in hissoul; knowing and loving what was right and lovely between man and man, he discharged his duties with distinguished success, and his influencewent far to lift up his people to the light and sphere of spiritualpeace. 

He still carried on the labors of his fine farm, with the duties of hisoffice, and made his own private house the seat of that justice whichonce in a long while he was compelled to search out and sustain. 

The manner and spirit of his administration were therefore patriarchal, as those which the poet describes of the venerable Albert, of Wyoming;and to the present day, traditions are preserved, and incidents relatedin that peaceful town, which prove the practical wisdom and eminentjustice of "Old Squire Fabens. "

Those early and eager pioneers of new countries, the lawyers, foundtheir way to Summerfield; that is, two or three unruly members of theprofession, while yet Squire Fabens held the wand of peace. They hadnot been long there, however, before they joined Troffater, AdonijahNixon, and Simon Bogle, to oppose his administration; and made verydesperate efforts to elect another in his stead. 

As for the lawyers, we are not at all surprised by their opposition. He destroyed their business, and they played as checks andinterruptions of that harmony to which his life was tuned. And as forthe troublesome little bandy Troffater, his ill-will was expected, as areal compliment to the wisdom and justice of the magistrate. We haveheard of an Irishman at Donnybrook Fair, who was likely to bedisappointed of his addicted battle, finding no one to answer hischallenge; and who cried to the crowd, "I'll thank any gentleman, justonce to tread on the tail o' my coat, that my sport may begin!" Asimilar character was Tilly Troffater, and never more thankful was hethan when opportunity encouraged his quarrelsome mood; and never moreamazed or provoked at the manner in which the laws were administered, than when his broils were suppressed while rising, and his litigationsclosed as soon as he began them. 

The hardest thing, under heaven, did it seem for a lawsuit to make anyprogress, while Matthew Fabens was Justice of the Peace, inSummerfield. Pestilent Tilly was always scheming to provoke suchevils, and was always threatening his neighbors with a lawsuit. Sometimes he would come post-haste for a warrant, or summons, orattachment; again, he would be in hot distress to swear his life was indanger, or his squalid character was at stake; or his neighbor's pigshad rooted up a few weeds in his garden, or some mischievous boy hadthrown a stone through a paper pane of his window; or mounted his mostpersonable scare-crow on his chimney-top, arrayed in a potato necklace, and holding a dead snake in hand; or he had secrets to disclose whichwould reveal astounding villanies, that threatened the peace of thetown. 

But it had always been his misfortune to fail of his designs. Not ascrap of a warrant or other process could he obtain. Not the lisp of aword or oath would the good Squire take from his lying lips. "Get ridof your passion; go home, and work, and help me keep the peace, " wasFabens' reply to all quarrelsome fellow-citizens. 

And yet, the happy fortune to sustain his long administration, withouthaving to confess a case of law had been brought to trial before him, was not reserved for Squire Fabens. Numberless little difficulties hadbeen dragged into notice by three or four uncomfortable bodies, whosought the excitement of a quarrel to rally the lagging pleasures ofindolence; and a few of these demanded his attention. But he had everfound it for the good of the parties in trouble, as for the generalwelfare, and his own satisfaction, to calm the raging waters ofpassion, by counsel, kind and wise; reconcile the antagonists, andbring them to an amicable peace, without the sifting of testimony, andthe labors of litigation. 

XII. 

A LAWSUIT. 

At length a crime was committed in Summerfield, which a summary processcould not despatch, and a sense of duty impelled Squire Fabens topermit it to be tried before him, that the offender might receive hispunishment, and be set forth as an example of warning to allevil-doers. One afternoon in August, when farmers had finished theirwheat harvest, and were enjoying a few days of relaxation beforeseeding their fallows with winter grain, Simon Bogle came all in a hothurry to the Justice, for a warrant against Jared Sculpin, and--"Areyou certain, " asked Fabens, after hearing his long and incoherentstory, and learning the name of the accused neighbor, "are you certainthat your log-chain was not mislaid, or dropped in some place where theleaves might have covered it? This is a very serious charge forneighbor to bring against neighbor. You ought to be very certain thatit was stolen, Mr. Bogle, before you accuse any one. "

"Certain!" cried Bogle; "I couldn't be more so, I guess, if I'd seen ittook, with my own eyes, I guess. The neighbors all talk about it too, I guess. And there's--"

"But there ought to be no guess-work in this case. Are you notwronging Mr. Sculpin, to charge him with the theft, unless somecompetent witness will say he saw him take it, or you can prove thechain found in his possession is yours, while he fails to show, indefence, that you did not lend it to him?"

"Lend it to 'im!--Lend it to 'im, eh? Mercy knows, I wouldn't lend 'ima halter to hang himself, since he blunted my iron wedges, and broomedup my beetle so! And I guess, you wouldn't talk about lendin', if thechain had been hooked from you!"

"But I don't like this hurry and passion you manifest. Get rid of thisbefore you think of bringing a neighbor to justice. We become criminalourselves just so far as we harbor passion and vengeance while callingcriminals to account. "

"Wal, will ye give me a warrant? tell me that, " said Bogle in a huff. "Tell me, Square, if you'll give me a warrant. Cause I _ken_ go toSempronus, I guess, and git one of Square Moss, if ye don't. "

"I tell you this, neighbor Bogle, " replied Squire Fabens. "This is avery serious affair you have brought before me. I want time toconsider it, and you must go home and think it all over calmly, andsleep on it; and then if you think something must be done in law, cometo me to-morrow with your witnesses, and we'll see what must be done. "

"Jest as I expected, " cried Bogle, turning on his heel in a swellingrage. "Jest as I expected. You're as fit for a Square as my dogPomp--jest about! I'll go to Square Moss. Ye needn't trouble yourselfany more. He'll give me a warrant, I guess. And if I don't vote aginyou next year, then my name aint Simon Bogle!"

Away he trudged in a gnashing rage, muttering back his threats andreproaches, and Fabens turned into the house and enjoyed his early tea. By the time Bogle was home, however, he had altered his mind, and wentand consulted his witnesses, and ascertained more definitely what wassurmised, and what could be proved. Passing Troffater's on his way, that incarnate mischief came out, and hailed him, saying, "Here, ho!Bogle--hello there! How d'ye dew? come back, come back, and see afeller! Don't be scornful!"

"I aint scornful. I'm in a hurry, " grumbled Bogle. 

"Wal, come back a minute--a man broke his neck in a hurry. What yougoin' to dew with Sculpin, eh? He hooked your log-chain, I heern, "said Troffater. 

"I'm goin' to see Square Fabens agin to-morrow, and try and fetch thefeller to justice. Sculpin _may_ be sorry for this. I know what I kenprove, " said Bogle. 

"I don't b'lieve the Square will try 'im. I never could git a hearin'of 'im. He's stiff as steelyards, and short as pie-crust since he gotin office. But mebby he'll knuckle a little to you. If he will, putSculpin through a course of sprouts, and larn 'im better'n to hooklog-chains. But I'm sorry I know anything about it; _I_ don't want togo to court, " said Troffater, with a mysterious elongation of hislittle monkey face, and significant rollings and crossings of his blackand blue eyes. 

"But what do you know, Troffater?" asked Bogie, with new lightanimating his anxious eye and cheek. "What do you know? There'ssomethin' to help me on a bit, I guess. "

"O, I'm sorry I spoke, " said Troffater, and spit through his teeth. "Idon't know nothin' about it. I don't want to go afore Fabens, and beobleeged to look 'im in the face. I wish I'd never seen Sculpin, norhis little thievin' capers. "

"Don't bother me, now, " said Bogle. "If ye know anything--and I bleeveye dew--out with it, and be my witness. I'm afraid it'll give me asweat to beat 'im arter all. Out with it, Tilly. "

"O, go long! go long!" said Troffater. "I hope you'll lick the rascal. He's guilty's a dog. But don't ax _me_, now, what _I_ know! Iwouldn't go afore Fabens for a fat turkey, I wouldn't. And then agin, why should I want to hurt Sculpin, or lay a straw in his way? Mebbyhe'll dew better, sense the trap liked to ketch 'im; and I'm sure Idon't want to expose him. "

"But tell me what you know, if you stay away from court, " said Bogle. "Tell me, and relieve my mind. "

"Go long, I say, and don't ax me agin, for I don't know nothin'--thatI'd like to tell in court. "

"I shall suppeeny you!" cried Bogle, departing in a huff. 

"Don't ye dew it, Bogle! O, don't ye dew it for all the world, Bogle!I shall hev a caniption fit if ye dew!" shouted Troffater after him. 

The next day Bogle came before the justice with evidence againstSculpin, which Fabens regretted to believe was but too well founded;and he issued a warrant, and a week from that day the action wasbrought to trial. 

The crowd of spectators was large, and the interest felt by all, atleast, curious and wakeful. Squire Fabens took his magisterial seatwith an air of unaffected gravity, glanced around the assembly with amild, intelligent eye, and presented before them a noble form andreverend mien, which inspired the virtuous, with new admiration forgoodness, and filled the vicious with secret remorse and apparent shamefor the evil of their doings. 

Cicero Bray, Esq. , appeared as counsel for the plaintiff, and C. FoxFaddle, Esq. , was counsel for the prisoner. 

Lawyer Bray was a mountainous man, about thirty-five years old; and hehad impudence ingrained with his brawny meat and muscles, and histongue, let loose, would run like a mill-stream. His head rose alittle above his ears, and was huge of girth in a horizontal measure. His hair was a sort of wolf's gray, was clipped all over within an inchof his head, and stood up like the bristles on a wild boar's back. Hisbrows were bushy, and jutted, roof-like, over his deeply-sunken eyes;his nose was bluff as a bull-dog's; his cheek-bones were rough andhigh; his eyes were wide-set; his mouth was cut square across almostfrom ear to ear; his chin was square and massy; he had an Adam's appleas large as a gilly-flower ripening on his throat; his hands were largeand bony, and his voice "grated harsh thunder, " as Milton said of thegates of hell. 

Lawyer Bray was prompt and saucy in court, and often won his case inother towns by the thunder of his voice and the force of his actionwhile on the floor. He could always read an abundance of law tosustain any point he argued, although the law quoted might not be foundwritten in the book. He was a capital shot, and kept a pair of thefleetest hounds, and often hauled in his shingle and hunted week in andweek out, leaving business to follow suit. He made light of religiousand sacred things; he could curse the sky when it thundered, and swearthe lights blue with the boldest voluble tongue; and yet he wouldappeal to God to judge him in a plea, and silence, and exclude awitness for any unpopular religious belief. He rose to an extensivebusiness in the towns about, at last; and is quoted at this day, forsome wild gale of a speech, or some saucy joke, or strange adventure. 

Lawyer Faddle was equally original. He was as tall as Bray, wheneverhe straightened up in an animated speech; but his long form commonlybent over, and described a segment of a rainbow. His head was small, and his hair long and thin, and light and shiny as flax; his eyes werealmost white, and were set obliquely; his nose was long, aquiline, andpinched together in the nostrils; his teeth were long and broad, andthose above shut over upon his lower lip and kept it in a constantchafe. His voice was clear enough, and it never failed in a speech;but it seemed to reside in his little thirsty throat, and it piped likea killdeer's in its proudest swell. 

Lawyer Faddle excited some mirth for his originalities, and morecontempt for his vices among the farmers of Summerfield. The opinionof the town at that time may be given in the language of Uncle Walter, who declared he was "hollow and foul as a sooty stove-pipe. "

Lawyer Faddle however succeeded in creating an extensive business intime, though most of his cases an honorable lawyer would have scorned;and he reared a large family, and wanted to figure in later times asone of the aristocracy of Summerfield. 

Cicero Bray opened the case by a lengthened speech of very ambitiouseloquence, paying several unfelt compliments to the 'justice' and'wisdom' of the 'worthy magistrate;' while he glanced through thecourse of the trial, with an air and tone of triumph, stating inthunder what he should undertake to sustain in evidence; and after amost exhausting peroration, he hauled in his ragged voice, and arrestedits rumbling echoes, and gave way for a brief remark from the counselfor the prisoner. A son of the plaintiff, Welcome Bogle, was thenintroduced to the stand, and testified that his father had owned alog-chain with the initials of his name, "S. B. " marked on one of thehooks; and the chain in court being shown him, he said with audible andhonest emphasis, "Yes, that's the article. " He was cross-examined, with considerable tact and much severity by C. Fox Faddle, Esq. ; but hestood the trial with remarkable composure and consistency, making novariation of the facts testified, although he gave them in differentconnections and words. 

'Becca Ann Teezle was next introduced. She had again and againdeclared she was not afraid of a lawyer, and on this occasion her wordsproved true. Without the slightest diffidence, but with a boldnessrather which encouraged the other witnesses, and with a toss of thehead that Lawyer Faddle did not like, she said, "she had been out inthe woods pasture picking blackberries, and saw Mr. Sculpin pass thatway from the direction of Mr. Bogle's barn, with a chain on his back. "

When cross-examined, she stated that "it was slung over his rightshoulder, and under his left arm, and it was _not_ a trace chain, nor ahalter chain, nor a breast chain, as Mr. C. Fox Faddle endeavored tohave it appear, but a log-chain; yes, _sir_, a log chain, for I saw itwith my own eyes. "

"Then you sometimes see with eyes not your own, do you, Miss Teezle?"said Lawyer Faddle with a comical leer, and a peculiar pipe of thatkilldeer voice. 

"Yes, I take owl's eyes when I want to look at a lawyer. "

"Why do you do that, Miss Teezle? what can owls see that you cannot seewith your _own_ eyes, Miss Teezle?" asked the lawyer, attempting toturn the laugh back from himself upon her. 

"They can see _low fowl_ creatures in the dark, " replied the bloomingmaiden. 

"Enough of this, " said the lawyer; "and if Miss Rebecca Ann saw thesethings with her own eyes, can she name any circumstances? Did younotice Mr. Sculpin very particularly? Did he seem confused andagitated when you met him? or was he calm, --was he possessed?"

"He was _possessed_--at least of the chain. "

"Indeed, Miss Teezle, and you are certain of this; and now can you tellme if it was when you were going _after_ the berries, that you saw him;or _after_ you had picked them, and had started _after_ home?"

"It was _after_ we had been _after_ the berries, and _after_ we hadstarted _after_ home. "

"Yes; and did you notice the _gait_ in which he moved along; notice itwith your own eyes, Rebecca?"

"He was in the _gate_ of the woods pasture south of Mr. Bogle's when wesaw him last. "

"Yes, and you are so wise and discerning, you can tell whether hiscourse across the field, was straight or crooked?"

"Crooked, sir. "

"About how crooked? can you tell this court, Miss Teezle?"

"Crooked as your questions, sir, " the confident girl replied; andthough the lawyer appealed to the court several times to "silence theinsolence" of this witness before she was through; the court protectedthe witness and rebuked the lawyer for impertinent questions, and theinsolence he charged upon her. 

Nancy Nimblet was called, and she testified that "She was with 'BeccaAnn Teezle, on the time specified, and she remembered it too, as if itwas yesterday; and the prisoner came from the direction of thecomplainant's barn, with a log-chain round him, over his rightshoulder, and under his left arm. " Lawyer Faddle declining hercross-examination, Adonijah Nixon was called. He testified that Mr. Bogle and he were second cousins. Cicero Bray objected to this as notrelevant; C. Fox Faddle insisted that it was relevant, and after somearguing and sparring, the justice ruled it out. Then Mr. Nixon said, "on Simon's having expressed to me a suspicion that Jared had taken thechain, I went with him to Jared's house and found the chain which yousee before you. "

Seneca Waldron and Crispus Flaxman were called; but their evidence waschallenged and ruled out for non-age. 

G. W. Pugg was called, and no one answered. G. W. _Pugg_, repeated themagistrate, slighting the initials and laying most emphasis on thename. No one answered; but two persons in the corner, a father andson, exchanged significant glances and looked very acute and wise. TheSquire raised his voice, and let it fall like an auctioneer's hammer onthe name. 

"G. W. _Pugg_--is Mr. _Pugg_ in the room?"

At that imperative question, the gray-skirted, bushy-headed, grog-bruising hunter of a father in the corner, rose and said, "Call'im George _Washintun_, then I guess he'll cum!"

"_George_ WASHINGTON PUGG; will you come and testify?" said the Squirewith an emphasis on all the names, but rising and fairly hammering thelast; when a greedy-eyed, brockle-faced, over-grown blade of seventeenopened up like a flax-brake, and loped forward over chairs and benches, responding in a houndish flat-and-treble voice, "_I_ reckon I'll_doo't_! O yis, I reckon I _will_, Square Fabens. "

The business of the court then proceeded, and when his evidence wastaken, Tilly Troffater mounted the stand, with an affected hesitancy, and a genuine restlessness of his little earthen eyes; eager to indulgehis meddlesome humor, anxious for revenge upon, he little cared whom, and yet awed to a look of shuffling shame, by the commanding mien ofthe justice. Clambering to his place, he was questioned by the court. 

"Well, friend Troffater, what do you know of the action pending?"

"I telled Bogle I was sorry _I_ knew anything for I didn't want to cometo court, " said the witness. 

"But, what do you know, Mr. Troffater, that would tend to convict theprisoner? Tell us _that_, " said the court. 

"I don't want to tell, " said the witness. "Let the critter go clear, for all me. I wouldn't lay a straw afore im. Mebby that's the last o'his thievin' capers. If 'tis, _I_ wouldn't tell what I know for all onairth. "

"You do know something, Mr. Troffater, " interrupted Cicero Bray, Esq. , obstreperously; "you know something, upon which we greatly depend toconvict the prisoner, and vindicate the majesty of law, and I insistupon your evidence, sir. "

"_Insist_, then, dew ye!" asked Troffater, gathering up into a comicalattitude; crossing and flashing his black and blue eyes, spittingthrough his teeth, and ranging the stand, like a dancing bear. "_Insist_, dew ye, eh? Wal, I spose then I must free my mind; but, think I'd ruther not. "

"Go on, go on, Mr. Troffater, and bother us no longer in this way, "said the court. 

"Wal, I spose I must, if Mr. _Cis-a-roe_ there raily _insists_. All Iknow about Sculpin is, one night I went down there, and we got toplayin' cairds, and he acted green as a mess o' cowslops at fust, andthen he cheated; and--O, I can't, I can't tell the story. I wouldn'thurt Sculpin for the world. Carry me off, and stick me in jail, if youwant to. I _won't_ tell, so there! I'll go to jail fust, and let thepismires carry me out o' the keyhole!--But what's this, I say? Mister_Cis-ai-roe_ Bray, Esquare, insists that I _shall_ tell. Wal, then, asI was goin' to say, he cheated, and so, so, I cheated a little tew, andby'n by, he got mad, and knocked me into a next-week sleep, and in thatsleep I seen a dream, and in that dream I seen him steal the log-chain. And now, if ye'll hand over my witness fee, I'll be out o' thisquicker'n ye ken say Jack Robison. "

Needless, indeed, were the task, if possible, to describe the sensationcreated by this amazing disclosure; and we may only add in conclusion, that the prisoner was convicted on other testimony; and after anearnest admonition from the justice, on the turpitude of crime and itsdreadful miseries, Jared Sculpin was sentenced to give Simon Bogle onegood day's work, and one good fleece of wool for his time lost inhunting the chain, and in bringing the offender to justice; to carrythe chain on his back through the main travelled road, in opendaylight, and humbly ask Simon Bogle's pardon. 

The terms of the sentence were promptly and fully complied with, and itwas ever afterward said of Jared Sculpin, that he was an altered man, and a virtuous citizen. 

XIII. 

HAPPINESS. 

For agreeable cares, and solid interests and pleasures, the life of thefarmer is one of the first to choose. It is indeed a labor, but alabor peculiarly blest for its manly pursuits and ennobling mentalexercises. Every farmer should be educated in useful knowledge, andelevated tastes and sentiments: every farmer should have a religion ofthe head, and heart, and life. 

The farmer goes out upon his fertile fields and plants, and stands byhis own work to behold the growing increase which the Lord waters andgives. Surrounded by symbols of the Father, he has but to open hiseyes, and read the signs of His wisdom, providence, power and love. Hestands in a temple of beauty and worship. His subjects of thought arethe sky and mountain, the woods and waters, the genial fallow, thegrowing crop, the ripening grain. His companions are legion, for allthings in Nature flock to his fellowship; his orchestra is the air andforest; his singers, the bobolink, bluebird and robin, who may befancied incarnate with spirits from the next region, paradise, comedown to gladden his heart with God's hallelujahs, and cheer his mind inthe rural toils. God may appear most intimately with him all his days;he may plough God's fallows; he may plant sweet affections, and harvestripe graces and joys; and every step on the green hills, and throughthe warbling groves, may seem a step toward heaven. 

Matthew Fabens was a farmer in genuine heart and soul. Of mere booklearning, he did not speak, although he was quite a reader; and in manyacquirements which the world calls knowledge, he was limited as achild. But for acquaintance with a few fine histories and stories, andwith the ways and wonders of God; for a knowledge of Nature andScripture; for an enlightened reading of the lessons of Providence andhuman life, he might have been accounted wiser than many who possessedthe wisdom of the schools, and looked down with vain contempt on hishumble sphere. One of the few lovers of learning he was, who couldsay, with the shepherd David, "O, God, Thou hast taught me from myyouth, and hitherto have I declared thy wonders!"

Nature surrounded him with symbols, and by the light of Christianity hesought their interpretation. And to his admiring mind, the presence, the beauty, and sublimity of God continually addressed theirrevelations; and he discovered in the water a mirror of this form; inthe sun, a symbol of His light; in the thunder, an echo of His voice;in the wind, a delegate of His spirit and power; in the mountain, aladder to His sanctuary; and in the rain and dew, the medium of Hisfavor, and the means of His love. 

Yet, with all his faith, wisdom, and virtue, he was by no meansperfect. Several of the frailties of humanity he had failed toovercome, and a few of its sinful impulses he found the discipline oflife no more than competent to rule. He was honest and upright to anice conviction, and a large and gracious heart lay beating in hisbreast; but brief moments would now and then take him by surprise, inwhich he sighed for another and more pretending sphere; and heregretted to feel growing almost imperceptibly upon him, anunwarrantable love of show and praise. Still, perhaps we should regardthese and other little errors more as misfortunes than sins, andattribute them measurably to the effect of growing fortune, and theinfluence of the world with which he had more and more to do. 

Nor did such a faith in the Father, nor such an estate of beauty andaffluence, render his life a perpetual or unqualified joy. Men wouldnot be men if perfect joy and peace were theirs, and the glowing robesof angels dressed them. He had never prayed to be taken out of theworld of trials and griefs; but to be kept from iniquity. Religion hadnot power to remove all sorrows from his life; but he prayed it mightaid him to overcome them; to rise above them stronger and better, forthe strength and courage required and employed to quell their stoutassaults. That early, and most trying, unaccountable sorrow of hislife, the loss of his beloved Clinton, still chastened his joy, andreturned at times in all the freshness of its agony: and it wasrendered more poignant and lasting by the painful mystery whichconcealed his fate, and fed suspense, and excited solicitous thoughtsand cares. 

But faith had a power so to lift and sustain the troubled spirit, anddraw it away from communion with its griefs, he enjoyed a preponderanceof elevated bliss. He had loved his parents with an affection whichcould endure the loss of their society only with the hope of havingthem restored to him hereafter; and many of his pleasures had beensobered, and life itself became more serious, and at times moredesolate, since they both had been gathered to the grave. But therewas a serene and unsubduable joy of the spirit abiding all the assaultsof sorrow, that shone forth like gold from the fire of the refiner, andglowed like cheerful sunshine through the dusky wings of a storm. 

His home had still remaining much solid happiness, for Julia lived toparticipate his fortune, to share his affliction, and strengthen hishopes; and the genial ardors of her youth, with love of Nature, anddelight in rural fellowships, though calmed and refined by suffering, were yet her being's light and joy. Her simple home, and its peacefulscenes, and lovely enjoyments, were symbols to her mind, notunprophetic of the home of the soul on high. 

It was a simple home, for their new frame house was not then commenced, except in the piles of boards and shingles that were gathering aroundthe barn; but what if there was no embroidered muslin, or garish damaskat the windows, and they looked through little narrow panes of blue andblistered glass? Did not their eyes find a recompense in the twinklingwings and warbling songs that flitted and floated in the air around?and in glorious landscapes of fields, and waters, and woods, that aglance could catch and hold through the smallest light! Did not thecurtains of verdure beneath and about, and the infinite canopy ofsplendid sky above, make the bravest of all ambitious ornaments hung byman or woman's hands, look little and coarse as a rag of baize?

One only sorrow remained for Julia to conquer; and how could thetriumph be won? She sorrowed still for the loss of her lovelyfirst-born. She could not doubt but God permitted it in love. Perhapshad Clinton been spared, he might have imbibed some sentiment of evil, which would have poisoned his beautiful nature and prompted him awayinto paths of sin. Young Walter Mowry was a prodigal, and likely tobring down his poor old mother in sorrow to the grave. George Richmondhad no idea of the value of the money left him as a father'shard-earned legacy; no self-reliance; and was likely to die miserableand poor. Perhaps, had Clinton lived to enjoy the blessings of such ahome, he had been a poor prodigal, or met misfortunes and griefs. 

Then she must acknowledge, that while her heart had been afflicted, ithad been softened and refined; while her faith had been tried, it hadgrown strong and buoyant as an eagle's wings. Heaven seemed all abouther now, as it had not seemed before her bereavement; the lights of itsholy joy came gleaming through the veil; and its pure inhabitants werefelt to range around, and sympathize, and bless. 

As a central bliss of existence, Fanny had grown to early womanhood, while her mother seemed still young to be her companion, and Fanny wasblooming as the flowers and trees that had been her communicants, pureas the fountains that mirrored her loveliness, and blithe as the birdsthat welcomed her rural walks. Fanny stood above a medium height, andthough she stooped a little at the wool-wheel, and in a ramble on thehills, she presented a comely figure and interesting mien. 

She was too white to please all tastes; her hair was almost acream-color; yet it was long, abundant and glossy, and was greatlyadmired by some. Her eyes were the lightest sky-blue, yet they werefull and quick, and flashed the fire of a luminous soul; and not glassyand languid, as blue eyes often are. She had a nose, mouth and teeth, like her father's, with her mother's cheeks, all ruddy-red with hermother's maiden blushes. She had hands and feet for a Bloomer, hadBloomers bloomed in her time. She had a round, clear, hilarious voice, that gave the birds lessons in melody, softened and sweetened thegentlest gales, and gladdened the day and the night on the farm. Sheloved her home and friends; she loved Irving, and Scott, and Goldsmith;she loved Beattie's Minstrel, Milton's Comus, and Campbell's Wyoming;she loved the garden and fields; she loved the woods, and lake, andsky; she loved bee-balm and clover; she loved double-pinks, anddouble-roses; she tasted the fragrance of peaches and apples, with apurer zest than that which relished their pleasant pulps; and everylovely and tender creature found in her a friend. 

In Fanny, her mother found more joy--upon Fanny her mother centeredmore lavish affection than she could have afforded or realized, hadanother grown by her tide, to divide the endearments of the household. But, O, the agony she would sometimes feel at the recollection of thatyear of sorrow! How it would bow her spirit, and run thrilling alongthe delicate fibres of her heart! That night of woe! That pantherscream! That dream of Troffater! That recovered hat, now sacredlytreasured to remind her of her idol! That lingering, sad suspense!Those sleepless nights, and comfortless days! How could she forgetthem, nor shudder in convulsions of anguish, as often as they rolledback like lava-floods on her soul?

And the suspense which still haunted her! The dream and dying words ofher mother breathed hope to struggling desire, but reason banishedassurance as soon as it rose, and how dreadful the suspense thatsupported the mystery! Could she have known that he was devoured by awolf or panther, and suffered no more, what an occasion of joy it hadbeen! what relief to sorrow, what an end to disappointments, comparedwith this dreary and brooding uncertainty, which preyed upon her naturelike a never-dying worm! How precious must have been the faith whichcould mitigate a sorrow like that, and introduce the suffering heart toseasons of joy and intervals of peace!

XIV. 

THE COLD SEASONS. 

For a good, long period, fruitful seasons and liberal blessings came onthe Lake Country. The last was a year of unusual abundance. Plentypoured her horn at every happy farmer's. Barns looked as if ready toburst with fulness, and stacks of hay and grain studded the pleasantfields. Cribs were piled full of corn, and cellars were stowed withprovisions. 

But earth would be heaven too soon if all evil and vicissitude wereended. Checks upon our prosperity must fall, and changes tax andinterrupt our gains; and he is not most of a man who meets least evil, and loses least of the reward of toil; but he who endures with themanliest courage, the mightiest will to overcome, and most dexteroushand to manage for decided good, all troubles that assail him. 

In the autumn of that abundant year, it was predicted that cold seasonswere near at hand. The Indians saw their approach in the fur of thefoxes, and the masonry of beavers. Farmers were confirmed in theprophecy by the extra stores of the bees, and extra husks on the earsof corn. A cold and snowy winter would certainly come, and they werebut too truly assured that a cold spring and summer would follow. Several people heeded the warning, and hauled extra supplies offire-wood, kept larger stores of provisions, and lived morethoughtfully and saving. Fabens took forethought, and prepared for thewinter. He sold but little of his abundance, saying, "If cold seasonswere to follow, stores of provisions were better to lay up than moneyor notes. " He talked with his neighbors on the subject, and a numberheeded his advice. He proposed making wood bees for several of thepoor, and succeeded in seeing ample piles of beech and maple at theirdoors. He got up a committee to visit the poor throughout the winter, and see that no child of God suffered in so bountiful a world. Somepeople thought he was taking a great deal of trouble on his hands, without the prospect of any reward; but he assured them that, withevery fire of comfort he built on a poor man's hearth, he built a newfire of pleasure in his own cheerful heart; and in the thing itselfwhich they called trouble, he received such full and flowing tides ofbliss, as made him think heaven could begin on earth. "It is not thecrusty turtle, " said he one day to Wilson, "it is not the crustyturtle, that slinks into his selfish shell, and twinkles so coldly hislittle haughty eye, that receives or communicates most pleasure ordelight. No, it is the kindly lamb, that gives you his fleece for awinter garment; it is the sweet-hearted robin, that carries the seedsof abundance over God's plantations, and sings of His love by the poorman's cabin, and feeds and covers the babes in the woods. "

There were some who laughed at his superstition for believing things innature could warn men of the weather a month ahead; and they made nopreparation for a change. But he remained confident, and believed Godwas speaking to him in symbols to set his house in order. 

"God must stoop a good 'eal, I reckon, to become an almanic maker, "said Colwell. 

"God forges the snow-flake, and sprinkles down every drop of rain, "said Fabens. "God teaches the squirrels to prepare for winter, andinstructs the ant, and beaver, and bee; and why would it be stoopingfor him to teach as, by signs in nature, to be ready for the changes hemay bring? He does his own work, and speaks his own mind on this worldevery single day; and if we look for his signs we shall be acquaintedwith his ways. "

The prediction began to fulfil. On the last day of October asnow-storm fell, and Gloom cast her shadow on the chilling scene. Fabens called Fanny to the window to gaze at the scudding clouds anddriving snow. With wondering eyes and open mouth, she stared andsighed on the dreary, howling winter. "We must train you, my dear, "said he, "to court the winter blast, and laugh, and be thankful amidstorms. That goodness of our Father which pours in the rain, blooms inthe flowers of summer, and smiles in the sweet spring mornings, speaksalso in the wind, floats on the clouds, and sifts softly down in thewhite, white snows of winter. "

That is called the cold winter to this day. It was deep, and long, anddreary. Snow that fell in October was not melted away till the lastApril rains dissolved it. Wild animals died of cold and hunger; sheepand cattle perished in numbers in the warmest pens; tame and wild fowlswere killed by the cutting frosts; and several families sufferedextremely, notwithstanding the committee kept astir on the busiestlabors of love. Fabens' woods were easiest to enter, and by theexertions of many, a road was every week opened to them, and thedestitute were furnished free with new supplies. Yet, such was thepinch of one long storm, that Dickey Shymer burned up the bark hedesigned to sell for grog; and the poor mischief of a Troffater, havingnot so much as bark, burned his best bedstead, then burned hiseel-rack, and was unstocking his musket for a last lonely fagot, whenFabens drove up with a towering load of green maple wood. Grog-dealerswere kept from freezing and starving, but they did no business to speakof that winter. Even Tilly, with his desperate bandy legs, could notlead his gang to worry a way often to a tavern. They were forced tolive soberly. 

The spring at last came on, and by the tenth of May it was quite warm;and many believed the cold season story was told; and some laughed atFabens and others, for sowing the last fall so many acres of wheat, andputting into the ground now such crops of peas, potatoes, and oats. Some sold off grain they had laid up in store for a famine, and the Maysun shone so warmly, they planted considerable corn, expectingspeculation. 

The corn came up finely, and looked thrifty and dark. The forests wereheavy with foliage. Fruit trees and meadows contended for the fairestblossoms. Dairies were diminished, so great was the prospect of summergrain; and Hope smiled sweetly on Summerfield. But clouds came overwhen the corn was at the first hoeing, and terror and disappointmentstormed upon the land. Snow fell three feet deep on a level, and thecold stung all nature with a chill, that seemed blown from the lips ofFebruary. 

The sun again shone, and the snow went off; but the corn drooped, andthe leaves of the trees withered, as if a fire had scorched them. Andthe season proved a cold and frosty one; and many there were thatwished they had sown winter grain, and oats, and peas; ploughed up lessgreen sward, and kept larger dairies. Another cold winter and summerfollowed, and drearier days were never seen in the Lake Country. A fewspeculators thrived, and the forehanded had chances to make much money;but the poor, and those who had laid up small supplies before, andlived sparingly, were overtaken as by a wild storm on a moor, andsuffered greatly. 

Mr. And Mrs. Fabens made every exertion in their power to mitigate thegriefs of the neighborhood; and they influenced several to join them inmissions and labors of relief and love. Agreements were made, thatthey would sell all they could spare at the lowest possible prices, belenient about pay, inculcate and practise the sternest economy, andregard speculators, in that time, as foes and oppressors of the people. 

More forethought was exercised, and the last of the cold seasons wasmet with preparations that mitigated and cheered the grievous glooms. Dairies were enlarged, corn was abandoned, and the hardier grainssupplied; and though suffering and anxiety abounded, the people wereenabled to escape a famine; and with hearts poured out in thanks, theywelcomed the return of seasons warm and fruitful. 

There were many good people staggered by that stern and afflictivevicissitude. They could not conceive why it came. They could notreconcile it with the goodness of God. They saw not why, if He wasgood, there should be winter and storms at all; and not perpetualsunshine and summer. They questioned Fabens on the subject. Mr. Nimblet questioned him, and Colwell asked him to "clear up thecharacter of his God. " Mr. Nimblet had heard Fabens express a hopethat God would overrule evil for good, questioned him on that hope, andadduced the cold seasons as illustrations. 

"And how can you explain these things in accordance with such a hope, Squire Fabens?" asked he. "And why are there so many sufferings inwhich we can see no good?"

"Because with our blind eyes we cannot see the result of all thathappens, " said Fabens, "does it follow that we never shall behold themissuing in good?"

"O no; but why should we have winter at all, when continual summerwould be so much more pleasant?"

"To me perpetual summer would not be more pleasant. We are soconstituted that diversity of air, weather and prospects, isindispensable to our enjoyment, and progress. Would you appreciate thebeauty and blessing of spring, summer and autumn, you must experiencein their unfailing turn, the gloomy rigors of winter. "

"But why have these last been colder than others, causing so muchsuffering and need?"

"I cannot see all the Divine design, but I can see a lesson of good inthe cold seasons. We learn wisdom, and get strength and breadth oflife by suffering. These last winters have taught many of us wisdomand forethought; made us prudent; showed us how dependent we are, andyet learned us self-dependence. After this I'll warrant, the people ofSummerfield will do and save more in the summer, to lay up comforts forthe winter; and provide for unseen needs. And I feel in my heart awarmer sympathy for suffering, and know a little of the satisfactionone enjoys assisting his neighbors; while I see our neighborhood boundtogether in stronger bonds of love, by the concern which those bittercold storms forced us to take of one another. What would become ofcharity if there were no wants to relieve? or hope, if we could notkeep looking for pleasanter springs and more fruitful summers?"

"But, cold summers came, and the corn was all cut off, giving nobodygood for the labor of ploughing and planting. "

"Good was done to our lands, neighbor Nimblet, good was certainly doneto our lands. We had run our corn lands too hard; fruitful seasonstempted us to imprudence, and we were running them all out. They havehad a long rest now and will be more productive. Beside, we have foundout that there are many honest ways to get a living, and have learnedhow to shift from right hand to left. A knack like that is well worthlearning. "

"From lessons of evil?"

"Yes, from lessons of evil. Would the maples stand the storms as theydo, and grow all the more; would the oaks get so great, if they sprungfrom a city hot-house?"

"Are you as happy as you would be, Squire, if you could remember noaffliction?"

"I enjoy happiness of a higher, sweeter and solider kind, I assure you, as I think of all past sorrows. Who can have so sweet an enjoyment ofhealth, as one that has recovered from sickness, and walks out in theanimating air and light? Yes, some of my best joys come and cheer meand strengthen me, after I have suffered. From anguish and bereavementthe brightest views of God have shone on my soul, as you have seenrainbows shine brightest in the darkest skies. "

"I cannot see everything as you do, " said Mr. Nimblet, and went hisway, while Fabens was preparing to speak of several more blessings, that would follow the cold seasons. 

XV. 

A WAR OF EXTERMINATION. 

The people of Summerfield were never so thankful or happy as in thebeautiful year that followed the Cold-Seasons. Plenty returned toabide there, and Prosperity re-appeared, leading Hope, Comfort, Peace, and Joy in her jocund train. Still that continued a land of the earth, bearing the thorn as well as the rose, having briers as well as berries. 

The people were greatly offended. Wolves and foxes still infested thewoods, and many of their lambs and fowls were killed and eaten by theanimals. They were hated with increased hatred. Not because they wereany worse than they ever had been before; but the people grew impatientof annoyance, and found it more and more difficult to see why wolvesand foxes were made; and why they were suffered to live, and prowlabout the abodes of men. 

The birds too were very troublesome. Woodpeckers pecked the trees, androbins plucked the first ripe cherries. Hawks pounced upon thechickens, and crows and blackbirds pulled the corn. What were they allmade for, and poised upon wings, with an omnipresence to annoy ourrace? Robins were good to eat, and they were more harmless, thanothers; but why were blackbirds let loose on earth? and for what didcrows and hawks take flight in our air? Why were the brutal beasts andtroublesome fowls, saved out of the things that were drowned in Noah'sflood?

Fabens confessed he could not see for what good purpose wolves andfoxes were made; farther than the vagabond sort of happiness they mightenjoy, and the discipline they gave to man in griefs and vexations. The predatory birds he thought were made equally in vain. He was tiredall out with their felon ravages. He judged at last that wolves andfoxes, and the blackbirds, and birds of prey, ought to be exterminated. Nothing now could so benefit the town, as a war of extermination, Hecould not raise a perfect crop of corn; he could not enjoy his ox-heartcherries; he could not raise a full brood of chickens, nor keep whatwere raised; he could not trust his geese from his door, nor turn hissheep and lambs into his fresh woods pasture, without sufferingdepredations; and something must be done to destroy the evil beasts andbirds. 

"We told you the first winter you was here, Fabens, that you would haveto come to that, " said Colwell. "It is high time a town meeting wascalled, and a general plan hit on to kill off the critters. I have myplan about it, and I have told it to a good many who fall in with me. "

"What is your plan? The woods are alive with foxes, and there are agreat many wolves yet away back in the swamps and hills, while the airis black with crows and blackbirds. How can we lessen their numbersmuch?"

"Club together and buy at the apothecaries a hundred dollars worth ofpison; fix it in scraps of meat, and scatter it through and through thewoods; and if it don't make the animals scarce, I'll quit a guessin'. Then git up a hunt for the birds--a univarsal hunt, and have judges andgive premiums to them that count the most game; continue the hunt aweek or fortnight for two or three years runnin', and the birds won'tpester us much after that. "

"The plan is a good one, and I'll do my part to carry it intoexecution. I am all out of patience with the creatures. If we do notkill more of them, they will get to be worse than Egypt's plagues. "

A town meeting was called, and Colwell's plan was adopted. A large sumwas contributed to procure poison; and bird hunts were arranged. Thepoison was scattered abroad, and hundreds of foxes and wolves lay deadall over the woods and swamps; while the money was returned withinterest to the people, by the sale of furs gathered from their bodies. The bird hunts came off with equal success, and there followed a markedcessation of annoyance. 

Only now and then a robin molested a fruit tree; and the tap of thewoodpecker was seldom heard. Hawks and crows that were left, looked sowistful and lonely they were not begrudged the little they ventured attimes to take. Blackbirds troubled the corn but little, and were morereserved of their mannerless clack. The fowls could repose at nightwithout fear of foxes; and lambs might wander in the wide woodspasture, and lie down unharmed by wolves. 

It could not be denied however that the fields and Woods were lesscheerful, if they were more safe. Some could not sense the change, except in an increase of harvests, cattle and fowls; others again, morespiritual in feeling, hearing and sight, discerned a gloom in the air, and a gloom on every scene, that seemed ominous of woe. Fanny Fabenstook all that gloom to her heart, and she seemed another being. Hernature was glad and joyous, as a grove full of robins; but now she grewsad, and wept and moaned, where once she laughed and sang. She couldhardly account for all her grief; she seemed to inhale it from the air, imbibe it from the light, and taste it in the breath of the woods, andthe odor of the flowers. 

But the death of the birds she knew was the beginning of her sorrows. She wept the loss of her favorite robin, from the ash tree in themiddle meadow; and it was no longer a bliss, but a grief, to lie inthat lovely shade, and sing her jocund songs, and scent the cloverblooms. She missed the little sparrow that had come three years insuccession, and reared three broods in a season, from a nest in thehoneysuckle that curtained her window. She missed the robins from thecherry-trees, and the cherries palled on her tongue. She missed thebluebirds from the cornfield, and the yellow-birds from the flax; shemissed the meadow-larks from the lawns, and the quails from the oatsand wheat; she missed the bobolinks from the hayfields, and the jaysfrom the girdling; she missed the ground-birds from the pastures, andthrushes and sweet swamp-robins from the woods; and the poor girlwandered about for months very sad and lonely, singing no songs andsharing no delights. 

Mrs. Fabens felt the bereavement quite as keenly as Fanny, and shedeclared, if the ox-heart cherries were fairer and more abundant now, their sweetness was bitter to her taste, and it seemed like devouringso much beauty and song to eat them; for beauty had been banished andsong silenced, to bring them to such a yield. Fabens could not denythat the gloom invaded his heart also, and he took no comfort in thecherries, while he missed the music of the birds, and missed the songsof joy that the birds prompted Fanny to sing. 

Yet, to him it seemed a just and victorious warfare, and he exchangedcongratulations with his neighbors. He was pleased to get free fromplagues, and he thought that relief was a good achieved of a real evil. His next argument with Mr. Nimblet, was less confidently urged, whileMr. Nimblet brought new illustrations to his aid. Fabens, indeed, staggered at the reasons that now opposed his view. Prowling beasts ofprey were evil as anything that had started up to devour his idea, andgood to all must come, he thought, for sweeping them away. 

Another season bloomed, and the birds were very few, and the bark ofthe fox, and the howl of the wolf, were very seldom heard. But now wasthe beginning of plagues more appalling. Flies that had served therobins for food, swarmed forth unmolested, and stung the cherry-trees, so that they bore little fruit at all, and that little was wormy andworthless. And worms that had served all the birds of the air withmeat, now multiplied greatly, and cut down all the vines, and destroyeddouble the corn that the fowls had taken; while caterpillars andlocusts trimmed the orchards, and plagued the oats and wheat. 

"I begin to think that the poor birds were our friends, after all, andwe shall now get our pay for killing them, " said Fabens to Colwell, oneday, while talking of the new annoyance. 

"Prospects for crops never looked so squally afore, " said Colwell. "Ican stand crows and blackbirds, I can stomach wolves and foxes, better'n them nasty worms. "

"We called that evil which God sent for good, " said Fabens. 

"I know not what we are coming to, " sighed neighbor Nimblet. 

"But, we done some good, our lambs and geese are safe, sense we pisonedthe animals, " said Colwell, cheering up his heart. 

"I have noticed that the woods looked very yellow of late, " saidneighbor Nimblet. "What can be the cause of that? My maple orchard, my chestnut woods, my cedar swamp and pine groves, look as though theywere dying. "

"I have noticed it, " said Fabens; "but I did not think to examine tillyesterday. My most valuable pines and cedars, and my chestnuts andsugar maples are dying. And come to examine them, I find the wood-miceand rabbits have girdled them. This is something I never saw before. The woods fairly crawl with creatures that are destroying them. And weare at fault for it all, neighbor Nimblet. Say what you will, wolvesand foxes were our friends. They destroyed vermin and rabbits, andprotected our woods. But because they took a goose, and a lamb, oncein a while, in part payment for the good they did, we saw in themnothing but evil, we hated them and killed them. Now, creatures moredestructive come forth, destroying all before them. "

"It cannot be quite so bad, Squire, " replied Mr. Nimblet. 

"It is the solemn truth, bad as it is, and I know it, and we are havingour punishment for our error, " rejoined Squire Fabens. 

"I must go and see, " said Mr. Nimblet; and the conversation ended. 

He went to see his woods, and found it even so; and he was greatlygrieved, for much valuable property was wasting as in a fire. Itproved a greater calamity than the cold seasons. It was long beforethe fine forests of Summerfield recovered from their wounds. 

But that scourge was a good lesson, from which all took profit in theend. Men learned more of the designs of God, saw more good in all Hisworks, let the birds and animals live, valued more preciously what wasleft them, enjoyed more wisely and sweetly such blessings as came, andwere more thankful. 

There were none who took more instruction from that lesson than Mr. AndMrs. Fabens. It elevated their views, it increased their faith, itenlarged the sphere of their spirits, and cleared up more of themystery of evil. All of that mystery they did not expect to seeunveiled below. It was not a possible thing to make mortal men see andunderstand it. But if the dark cloud still spread its dubious dusk onthe sky, more and more of it melted into the rainbow as they gazed; andwhile part of that bow was still involved in the cloud, and part hiddenaway far below the horizon, enough was still glowing in glory on theirsight, and enough gleaming and breaking through the darkness, to enablethem to know it would burst at last on their blessed eyes, in a perfectcircle of the light of love. 

"We should all be happier and more fortunate, " said Mrs. Fabens, "if wehad faith to see a blessing of God in more of the things we regard asevil. It requires great faith, I know, to be reconciled under allgriefs, and see a good design in all that afflicts us. It has beenhard for me to see why God made wolves and foxes, and how they couldminister good to man. They may be evil, for all I know, but if they donot fulfil a good design, why has it proved an evil to kill them?"

"It does, indeed, require great faith to accept your suggestion; butthat faith must be the true one after all, " said the Squire. "Theymade incursions on our folds. They took now and then a lamb, or fowl;but how much less have they taken than enough to pay them for the goodthey did. How few of us would do the same good to them for the samesmall reward. We are impatient of griefs and vexations. We chafe, andfoam, and champ the bit that curbs in our passions, and reins us aroundthe wisest way. We think it hard that wolves should sometimes bring usa disguised blessing. We find it difficult to discover the good designof apparent ill. But at last we shall see how evil may issue in good. The end will reveal the good design of all. As I understand it, evilis the imperfection which necessarily follows our nature. The moraldifference between an imperfect world and a perfect God. The shadow ofthe Tree of Life. The cloud that veils the Mercy-Seat. The sad andthe bitter, the dark and dreary, that serve but to reveal the joyfuland sweet, the bright, and glad, and beautiful. 

"And we know by experience, Julia, that the evils of this world may beturned into a high and fruitful discipline; and from that discipline wemay rise to a life of maturer powers, and more ample and energeticcharacter; with thriftier faith and greener hope; and clustering gracesall around the heart, of juicier pulp and rarer flavor. "

XVI. 

THE MINISTER. 

It was now past the middle of September, and the farmers of Summerfieldhad finished their fall seeding; most of them had spread their flax;some, cut their corn, gathered their pumpkins, and dug their potatoes:and all were enjoying a September of the soul. 

Fabens was enjoying it out on his accustomed seat, beneath a favoriteshade-tree, in the green mown meadow before his home; and indulging oneof those golden reveries that rise in the autumn time. The June-likelustre of the glowing sky; the beauty of the fields now blooming insecond verdure, like aged souls with new hopes and loves in the lightof Christianity; the affluence of orchards, dropping the burden, diffusing the fragrance of their mellow fruit; the opulence ofwoodlands, exhibiting signs of the first frost, yet still withholdingthe wealth of their bright foliage; the pride of his gallant horses, liberated from the plough, and galloping here and there, on sports ofmajesty in the upland pasture; the appearance of fine cattle grazing onthe distant mead; the sight of yellow stubble-fields, sleeping inremoter view; the neatness and abundance of his farm-yard, proclaimedby the lordly cock in a rousing and resonant crow; the odor of hay andgrain from his barn near by; the quiet and cosy comfort of his home;the presence of Julia and Fanny, the one reading David from that nobleold ode called the Sixty-fifth Psalm, and the other at his side, embracing his neck in a clasp of leaning affection: those pleasantsights that regaled his gaze, and those ardent emotions of gratitudethat thrilled him through and through in the sweet contemplation, directed his thoughts to the God who gave them, and he thanked him forhis bounty; attained still more lofty conceptions of his love; and, asJulia concluded the psalm, repeated the words, "Praise waiteth forThee, O God! Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, and thy pathsdrop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, and thelittle hills rejoice on every side. Praise waiteth for Thee!"

As he concluded the pious apostrophe, a stranger, till then unobserved, stepped before him, and inquired if it was Squire Fabens of Summerfieldwhom he had the honor to address. Being answered in the affirmative, the stranger continued--"I know one Daniel Fabens on the Hudson, atwhose house I have often tarried, and aware that I was about to visitthe Lake Country, he informed me of you, sir, and insisted on my givingyou a call. "

"Daniel Fabens?--Daniel Fabens;--Let me see. O, it must be my UncleAbraham's son; he had a Daniel; the only one of the name I know of. Itmust be he. "

"I think he called you Uncle, sir. "

"No, cousin. Our fathers were brothers. I am often called Uncle bycousins and neighbors. But it's of no consequence, sir. You are justas welcome. I was only casting in my mind what Fabens it could be. Iam glad to see a friend from the Hudson, sir; and what may I call yourname?"

"My name is Lovelight. I am a minister of Christ. I have a message toyour country. "

"I took you for a minister. You are welcome to Summerfield; and to ahome with us while you tarry. This is my wife, sir, and that is mydaughter. Walk into the house, walk in; and I will take care of yourhorse: you both look weary. "

The horse was unsaddled, and washed with cool water from the well, andturned into a field of fresh clover; and the stranger followed Mrs. Fabens and Fanny into the house; and, after resting and bathing, a goodsupper, with a dessert of peaches and cream, was taken. Evening cameon, and with it a long conversation, and before they retired, the hourwas approaching midnight. 

"As you are a minister, sir, will you tell me of what persuasion?"asked Fabens, while they conversed. 

"The persuasion of Christmas I believe, " said the minister with agentle affability. "I think little of sects. They are too exclusiveand formal. I love the church of Christ. That is catholic and real;that embraces the good of all sects, and is the mother of us all. "

"I agree with you there. A sect is a body too little and low for thespirit of Christ. But I didn't know but you held to one of theparticular creeds of Christians. "

"The Bible is my creed and counsel. "

"That is right. But you preach a doctrine peculiar to some one of theChristian denominations, I suppose? I am not particular to know, however. It was only my curiosity. "

"I am not particular to conceal my views. I would be glad to preach inyour neighborhood, and allow you to judge of my doctrine. I would beglad to preach next Sunday. "

"The only meeting-house in town, I am sorry to say, is occupied everySunday. I have no doubt but Mr. Darling, our minister, would be gladto have the people hear you. He is a good man; and, if he is asectarian, he is not so exclusive as many. "

"I would not ask him to give up his pulpit to a stranger. It would notbe best, I think, to apply to him. Have you not a school-house, orbarn, that would convene the people with comfort? I am used to suchtemples of worship. "

"Our school-house is small, and our barns are full; and I am sorry ithappens so, for I want to hear your message. "

"Then I will preach in the open air. Fix me a stand under yourshade-tree, and I'll want no better place. I'll be in God's freetemple then--a fit place for God's free gospel. "

"It shall be done for you; and I will send around notice far and near. And shall we hear something against the sects, and their cant anddogmas?"

"No, not at present, from me. Truth will wage its own warfare whengiven fair play; and while I leave truth to conquer, I denounce less, and invite the more. Set the Infinite Good before the people, andinvite them to rise and accept it; and they are very sure, sooner orlater, to come. This was Christ's way. He opened heaven on earth, andinvited men to prepare and receive its light and joy to their mourningsouls. 'Repent, ' said he, 'for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. '"

"If the people heard more of this preaching, " said Fabens, "they wouldrouse from their indifference, and live a heavenly life. "

"The world has been denounced for indifference, " said the Minister;"but the world is not all to blame. The gospel it hears is too seldomof the inviting kind, adapted to its wants, addressed to its affectionsand reason. Men have been fed on the letter, while needing the spiritand truth which the letter conceals. Preachers have spun too muchgossamer and tinsel; and woven too little solid bang-up and beaver forwear and comfort. The people have been served with too many custardsand candies of entertainment, while hungering hotly for the bread oflife. "

"Very true, " said Fabens. "I have felt this hunger myself, though ourpreacher here has given us very good fare. "

"In consequence of this error, " said the Minister, "many good peoplehave taken the impression that there is nothing in religion worthy oftheir first concern. That it has not a spirit which will act on a weekday; and neither food nor clothing for the soul can be found among itsprovisions. --Why, sir, religion is a legacy of infinite love to a worldgroaning in sin. It has power to change this earth to a paradise, andtransfigure its inhabitants to angels. It is the one thing needful forevery-day life; the principal requisite for a true integrity and honor;the actual virtue; the legitimate hope; the perfect charity; theparamount peace; the kingdom of heaven at hand. As men permit its warminfluence to stream down into their hearts, they will kindle and riseto a new and noble life, and walk and live in heaven. "

"I am confident of that, " said Fabens, "and I am glad you are out on amission of this gospel. I am sure we need it enough in thisneighborhood. "

"Christians should be all on fire with the spirit of this religionnow, " said the Minister. "They should give it forth to the world as avital heat warming up the temple of the heart like a furnace; a light, flooding every niche and cranny of that temple with full illumination;a fountain, watering all its sanctities and graces; and music, fillingit to overflow with the voice of heavenly song. "

"Give me that religion, " said Fabens, "and I shall be rich and highindeed. But I cannot hope to enjoy it in such full and actual life. "

"The world is like you, " said the Minister. "It wants hopefulness. Itwants hope in God, and faith in his providence. Here is the grandwant; hope in God and faith in his providence. God is doing his workin this world at this hour; his spirit moves on the waters now, bringing peace out of discord, and light out of darkness; and thepeople should know and feel it as a vital truth. When they do, theywill rely on his love, and enjoy his religion. "

"I wish you would give us a sermon on this subject, " said Fabens. 

"I will, " said the Minister, and they concluded the conversation, attended prayers and retired to rest. 

Arrangements were made, and notice, circulated for the meeting. Thehour of the meeting came, and it was a placid and splendid hour as evergilded a country Sabbath. 

XVII. 

THE MEETING. 

A country Sabbath! who can go out of the city and enjoy that even inimagination, without bringing the day, and all its placid light, andall its green and tranquil blessings home with him in his soul? Itsteals upon you like the floating raptures of a trance, and O! thereare such smiles and splendors of God in the sky; there is such a spiritof worship in the hushed and reverent air; there are such songs ofpraise from all the temples of Nature rising on wings of holy melody toheaven; and you behold such comely forms and faces descending the greenhills, and emerging from the woods and lanes: you forget thisprison-durance, and seem to walk in a higher sphere. 

The Minister was a little man, of perfect form, lithe as a spirit;ardent, open, affable; with a high and swelling forehead; a deep, warm, lustrous eye that darted forth the living fire of intelligence andlove; a long thin nose, winding in a slight and not ungraceful curvetoward the right shoulder; an eloquent gesture, a clarion voice, and aface benignant and bland as the mild morning star. 

A large concourse of people assembled to hear him, and after the usualservice of introduction, he rose, and casting those kindling eyesaround on the audience a moment, in a voice round and clear as a forestwarbler's, he said, "_The Spirit of God moved on the face of thewaters. _" This was his text, and, --"I suppose it is commonlyconceded, " said he, "that the book of Genesis is the most ancient, ifnot most sublime of all the writings that enrich the world. Thelearned have cited the first verses of this book as specimens ofsublimity unequalled by any language. And though the prophets, and thegospel authors outsoar Moses, I think, in the morally sublime; yetthere are two or three touches in Genesis that roll and roar likeNiagara before me, and stir me so strongly, fill me so full, and liftme so high, I find it an effort to rise to any grander conception thanthey give. 

"The verse on creation; the void and formless earth rolling off indarkness; the Spirit of God on the waters; the mandate for light; thedividing of the floods; the fixing of the firmaments; the lifting ofthe sun and moon to the heavens; the arrangement of day and night; thebringing of the seasons; the making of man: all sweep before our mindin visions of awe, and might, and gloom; magnificence, glory, peace andlove; and we may study the chapter till we shall seem to be there inthe midst of the awful scene, and find ourselves throbbing and swayingwith a rapt spirit, and a bounding heart. 

"'The Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters. ' This, myfriends, is an assurance of God's Providence, only surpassed by thehighest announcements of Christ. And the text has moved me profoundly, and come in a thousand times to exalt my faith amid trials, and soothmy griefs, and calm my solicitudes, when anguish has pierced me, andstorms have raged. The text finds a thousand illustrations. The worldwas called from chaos, and warring elements, and confused andconflicting principles have not yet been restrained from their fury, orsoothed to perfect peace. There are wars among the waters of nature;there are wars among the waters of the moral world; there are wars ofpassion in our souls, and we lose our confidence often, and often ourpeace and rest. But 'the Spirit of God moves on the face of thewaters;' and they who believe this, will never feel forsaken, or losetheir balance or their hope. 

"_The Spirit of God moves on the waters as they flow in the course ofNature_; and at this very hour He is present in all her stirringscenes, commanding her mighty forces, preserving her general harmony, and leading all her rushing rivers of motion, power and life, into onewide ocean of purity and peace. And this is that gracious Providenceasserted in the text, and announced so often by the Savior. Itrequires a lofty faith to discover that Providence, at all times; todetect its personal presence, and rest in its parental love. What atime it was in the beginning, while the earth was formless and void, and darkness brooded over the seas that embosomed her--if we could havewitnessed the scene--what a time to shake and shatter this faith! Andduring long ages afterward, while the land was forming in littleislands above the waters, how impossible it would have been for one ofus to see the Divine Presence on the waters, look for harmony, beauty, life and peace to be brought out of all!

"And then in times of confusion, we have seen, when storms have fallen, when winds have howled, and the waters roared with trouble; what aneffort was required to believe the Lord was in the storm speakingpeace; and the Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters!

"Then, there are storms we know of, but cannot see at all times. Electric and magnetic storms, when all the vital forces of nature arein commotion, and wars are waged from pole to pole: when the thundersgrowl, and lightnings flash, and the ruddy aurora dances and flames. What apparent confusion reigns! You think the thunder, lightning andaurora, are announcements of war and commotion scarcely yet begun, andyou fear and tremble. 

"But how will knowledge and faith disperse these terrors, and reducetheir confusion to harmony and rest! The very war of waters at thecreation was their effort after peace. When the world stood in islandsabove the lonely seas, the Spirit of God was on the waters, bringingforth continents in order and beauty, and preparing for these times ofwide-spread lands, and gay-green verdures; and nations on all, withintelligence, commerce and joy. And the terrible storms we havewitnessed, were the movement of God's Spirit, restoring equilibrium innature; while, instead of announcing conflict and trouble to come, thelightning and aurora were the reports of peace; saying, the electricand magnetic storms were over, and their forces were at rest. 

"Again; '_the Spirit of God moves on the waters as they flow in thecourse of History. _'

"We study history with trifling purpose, if its high philosophy doesnot raise us behind the scenes of strife and peace, advance andretreat, rest and revolution, to discover that God moves on the waterscontrolling their general course. "

The Minister cited a few great epochs and movements of history, asillustrations. Some were secular, and some were sacred. He pointed tothe wars of Alexander, in which the oriental nations must have seennothing but chaos, desolation, and woe. Yet, over all those warringwaters the Spirit of God moved, and the races of men rose ennobled fromthem. Horrible sins were committed by that warrior, and God broughthim and them to a terrible judgment. Yet God turned the curses toblessings. The young, warm, vigorous blood of Greece, and her splendidliterature, and magnificent arts were carried into the heart of Asia, and raised those old dotard nations to a second youth; inspired themwith power and light; flooded their lands with new and noble ideas, andbrought sluggish and unsocial peoples into commerce, unity, progress, and hope. 

"And pass to another scene, " said the Minister, rising with his subjectand kindling to a glow. "Pass to another scene. Enter Jerusalem. Goabout Judea after the martyrdom of Stephen, and see what chaos, terror, and despair succeed. Even the Jews are divided into cliques andjuntos, at war with each other, and enraged at their rulers. And whereare the poor trembling Christians, that on the day of Pentecost flockedin such thousands and such joy to the lifted banner of the Cross? Andhow stands their faith in this terrible hour? It is sorely tried andbelabored. Persecution kindles her fiery torches, and a wild tumult ofwarring evils reigns. They are scattered abroad. They flee for theirlives to distant cities, and many lie down in despair and death. 

"And yet what seeds of blessing were blown about by those wicked winds;and what love was brought from persecution! The Christians werescattered all over the Roman empire, and every one became a missionaryto the Gentiles, to give the word, and diffuse the power of eternallife. And thus was Divine Providence manifested in defeating thedesigns of evil; in commanding the waters of rage and fury, andbringing harmony, truth, and blessing out of all. And signs of a likeProvidence have been repeated throughout the whole course of history, and man has risen from every conflict wiser, stronger, and more maturein the graces of many-sided life. 

"The period succeeding the fall of the Roman empire was another chaosof upheaval, confusion, war, and night. The Christian element had beenpoured into the Roman, which had long effervesced with the leaven ofGreece and the oriental world. Then wave after wave of barbarianpower, fury, and life, came pouring into all, and threatening to drownthe world, like another flood, and sweep away the monuments, institutions, and ideas of all past time. The rolling in of thosesavage waves was like pouring rivers of acid into seas of alkali, andthe waters of society rose and roared in foaming strife. Yet, black aswas the sky, through all the dark ages, the light of the Lord shoneabove the darkness; and wild and terrible as was the war of waters, theSpirit of the Lord moved upon them, and brought to our times the sociallife, liberty, and harmony we see. 

"And some of the grandest characters of history have been called out intimes of conflict and revolution; and this shows the revelation of theLord in all. Milton, Washington, Patrick Henry, were not the weaklyblossoms of a hot-house, nor the stately flowers that decked a velvetlawn, or blushed in a sunny garden. No! they were live, indomitableoaks, that grew amid rocks, and from warring winds, and dashing waters, received strength to deepen their hardy roots, and lift to heaven theirgreen and magnificent branches. 

"And as in Nature and History, " said the Minister, "_so in IndividualLife we may say the same_. The Providence of God regards the sparrow'sflight and the insect's joy; it clothes the grass, and arrays thelilies in glory, and therefore is mindful of you and me, and works forour good. 'The Spirit of God moves on the waters, ' as they flow in thecourse of Individual Life. 

"We often see darkness above us. We often hear the powers of apparentchaos roaring like hungry dragons around. We are often the sport ofwhirling eddies, and the rage of furious rapids and falls. We wind ourcold, dark way at times, as if passing under the falls of Niagara, roofed over with roaring waters, and startled with bursts of spray, andshrieks and whistlings of sound from chasms and gulfs beneath; whereone false step would send us to destruction. 

"And yet, as we have trusted our faith and hope, we have heard thevoice of the Lord above the noise of waters; and felt that his Spiritmoved near us, breathing love and speaking peace. We have said withGeorge Fox, 'There is an ocean of darkness and death; but withal aninfinite ocean of light and love flows over the darkness. '

"And what if we cannot always behold the light above the clouds? Whatif the time frequently comes in trials, bereavements and disasters, when all around and above, is dark, dark; and we see not how ourprayers for light can be answered, or in what way God can educe a goodfrom evil? Experience and faith assure us that the light will come, and the good be made manifest. 

"I may safely assert, " said the Minister, "that the highest andsweetest of all the blessings God his poured upon me, have rained downin storms of affliction. That the brightest days have dawned on thedarkest nights. That the roundest and ruddiest rainbows have beamedfrom the gloomiest clouds. I have had the profoundest sense of thelove of God, and the nearness of His Spirit, not in days of sunshineand pleasure, when the waters have flowed in placid, tranquillity, andthere were slumber and rest on the world. But in hours of trial andtrouble, I have felt most of His love, and seemed most lovingly foldedin His Spirit; in hours of sickness, in hours of need, afar from all mykindred, cut off from the staff and stay of worldly pleasure and joy. Then, O, then, the Spirit of God has moved on the waters, and spokenpeace! And from afflictions, I have risen to higher faith, and morestrength of character, and broader aims and views of life. 

"And this has been the experience of others I have visited and heard. It has not been amid affluence, it has not been on the smoothly-rollingcurrent of worldly prosperity, that I have found people most keenlyalive to a sense of God's goodness, or the presence of His Spirit. Ihave found great faith and gratitude; I have found warm and devotedChristians amid affluence; but I think on the whole, I have found theprofoundest sense of the Divine Goodness and Presence among the humble, among the poor and afflicted; and I am often reminded of an apostle'swords; 'God hath chosen the poor of this world rich in faith. ' * * *

"And this reminds me of Job, and the faith that led him to hear thevoice of the Divine Spirit in the whirlwind, and on the stormy flood;and from whirlwinds and floods, to get messages of love and peace. 

"But with the aid of all these illustrations, " said the Minister, closing his sermon, "what _can_ we conceive of God's providential love?It is a thought beyond conception, it is a light transcending vision. There is no object on earth or in heaven, that can well represent thetruth of its wisdom, the touch of its tenderness, or the attraction ofits power. The sun is but a taper, reflecting its glory; the sea isbut a globule, describing its breadth and depth. It runs the circle ofthe universe, without interruption, and without end. It is particularas it is impartial; it is melting and sweet, as it is mighty andsublime; and it holds you and me, and it holds the littlest babe, andthe littlest bird and flower, in an infinite Father's heart!"

He pronounced the benediction, and the audience went their way torejoice in the light that seemed sent down from heaven. 

He gave another message in Summerfield, and departed on another call ofhis mission. His visit to the Lake Country was an era in the life ofMatthew Fabens. His views and illustrations suggested new trains ofthought and reflection; but they only confirmed his faith in Christ'sdoctrine of Providence, and opened his ear to loftier and moremelodious notes of that infinite harmony, in which he believed theuniverse of God was bound. Mrs. Fabens had joys that flowing tearsexpressed, and Fanny was not an unsympathizing hearer. 

XVIII. 

THE SECOND MEETING AND ITS FRUITS. 

In his second sermon, the Minister set forth one or two practical viewsof Christianity, and dwelt upon them with an earnest soul, and a happyselection of illustrations from the Scriptures. He cited incidentsfrom history also; and appealed to his audience with such persuasiveeloquence, he left a deep impression on their minds and hearts. 

Fabens had before thought of those things, and endeavored to rule hisconduct by such a spirit. He had studied the example of Joseph withhis brethren; of Elisha with the Assyrians, of David with Saul, ofChrist with his enemies, of Schuyler with Burgoyne, and Washington withthe Tory. In numberless instances of his life, the power of suchexamples had been exhibited in his private conduct, and in hisdecisions as a magistrate. 

Still his faith in the power of kindness as applied to the vicious andcriminal, was not so strong or perfect as he would desire. Some casesof offence there were, in the treatment of which, for a good effectupon others, he held doubted the success of that principle. Theteachings of God, he confessed, had a lesson to strengthen that faith. All his own little errors had been treated with kindness from Heaven. True, he had always been miserable as often as he had sinned; but thenthe gracious rains were not withheld, nor the kind sunlightextinguished; nor the harvests blighted, nor the bloom of woods, northe fragrance of flowers denied, because he had been sinful andunthankful. God had chastened him in kindness; and he loved virtue allthe more, and increased in the ardors of devotion. He prayed for morefaith in the power of benevolent principles and deeds; and hoped atlength for a perfection, in which he could actually turn the leftcheek, when the right had been smitten. The words of the Ministerincreased his confidence in moral power, and rendered more lovely thanever he regarded them before, many of the Saviour's precepts. 

The subject engrossed his thoughts and feelings, when, one evening, going to his barn with a lantern to close the door, he found a neighborin his granary measuring wheat! A second glance assured him it wasTilly Troffater, his enemy; the mysterious, meddlesome, lying littlebandy Troffater, and he was stealing wheat!

Some of the neighbors had long surmised that Tilly owed the Squire agroundless and secret grudge, as he did many others in the town. Healways seemed to be cooking spleen and getting up grudges. He enjoyedapparent slights, and fancied insults, as a hungry dog his dinner; theyhelped him so much in hatching quarrels and perpetrating spites andrevenges. But he always seemed to fear the Squire, and drop hiscockerel crest, whenever he met his glances; and no one suspected hewould dare to step so far upon his premises, even to execute revenge, much less, to rob or steal. He had often said he would never standbefore Squire Fabens, and be obliged to look him in the face. Butalas, here he was overtaken in a crime! And what on earth could thecreature do? He would have given the apple of his eye to be anywhereelse at that moment. 

He had an enormous bag, but as yet, there was only a little in it. Fabens approached him, called him _neighbor_ Troffater, got hold of hishiding hand, and shook it with a frank and earnest grasp, that wouldhave hurt a tenderer palm, and inquired after his health and that ofhis family. Troffater straightened, and swelled, and blowed; andcocked and crossed his black and blue eyes; but answered not a word. Now was the time to test the power of kindness, and he gave it a trial. 

He was glad, he said, that he happened to come with a light, for it wasvery difficult to measure wheat in the dark; and began himself to fillup the bag. Troffater looked more sullen and evil for a while, but hesoon began to wilt, and open his mouth with apologies. He declared, astrue as he lived, he would not have taken over half a bushel, and wouldhave returned again every kernel he borrowed. Fabens replied that itwould grieve him to know that any neighbor of his was in need of whathe could so easily spare; and for fear Troffater might suffer, and betempted again to do what must be so painful to his heart, he filled thelarge bag and tied it, saying, "There neighbor Troffater, you are verywelcome to that bag-full. "

He insisted, however, that Troffater should go into the house, and seehis folks, and take supper with them. The bolt of a galvanic batterycould not have convulsed the little culprit with a more terrible shockthan such a word; he looked as though he would slink through the floor, and actually craved a blow to brace up his nerves, and knit his joints, and rally his skulking spirit. He begged permission to be goneimmediately. But no, he could not get off with so light a punishment. He must go in and see Mrs. Fabens and Fanny, and take supper with them. He dared not disobey, and he trudged sneakingly in like a whippedspaniel. 

"O, it is Mr. Troffater come to see us!" said Mrs. Fabens, smiling akind welcome as he entered the door. "We were wondering who it couldbe with Mr. Fabens in the barn-yard. How do you do, Mr. Troffater?How is Mrs. Troffater? and how are the family? It is such a pleasantevening, why did not Mrs. Troffater come over with you and spend theevening? She has not made me a visit in a long, long while. "

"How are Ruth and Josephine? Did I not see them crossing our pasturetowards Mr. Teezle's to-day? I hope they have not forgotten that theyowe me a visit, " said Fanny, with a voice more musical than themeadowlark's, and a smile more gentle and subduing than the moonlightmelting on the wall. 

But Troffater was silent. His throat was so dry, and his tongue sothick, he could utter nothing in return. His silence surprised them, and they feared he had been injured, or was in a fit, until a glancefrom Fabens checked their surprise and inquiries; and then they treatedhim as if he had joined in conversation, and nothing unusual hadhappened. A good supper was set before him, and a good family tookseats around him, and Mrs. Fabens and Fanny more than once expressedthe wish that Mrs. Troffater and the girls had come along. ButTroffater enjoyed neither conversation, nor comfort, nor supper. Hetried to eat, but he made a pig's mess of the fine and bountiful dishesthey set before him. He crossed and recrossed his earthen eyes. Hesweat, and hitched, and wheezed: he dropped his knife on the floor, andstuck his elbow in Fanny's butter; he attempted to sever a coldchicken's wing, and upset a plate full of biscuit and butter, apple, honey, and pie, in his lap; he blew his tea long after it was cool, andblew hot and cold drops into Mrs. Fabens' face; and mixed everythingtogether as he ate. And then he ate but little; his throat was so dryhe found it difficult to swallow. 

After supper they returned to the barn, and there Fabens told him inprivate what he thought of his crime. He talked very frankly. He usedneither oil nor honey with his words. He warned him against thewickedness of crime, and against its awful punishments. He cited a fewwarnings of the Scriptures against the wicked and the sinner. Yet hespoke kindly, and admonished him as a friend and brother. 

Troffater went into convulsions of agony. Streams of fire seemedsurging through all his arteries, burning up his heart, and coveringhis head and face with blisters. He hung his head, and knocked hisknees together. He gasped, and hemmed, and groaned. Tears at lastcame to his relief, and he wept like a child. Fabens assured him, ifhe would promise upon honor, that he would, from that time, abandoncriminal desires and acts, he would always treat him kindly, and neverexpose him. A pledge was given with more soul in its declarations thanhad ever before been extorted from the mischief. 

Troffater, however, still begged for one mitigation of hispunishment--a single one. He begged to empty the bag of wheat into thegranary, and go home without a quart. But Fabens was inexorable. Troffater said it would choke him to eat the flour, after what hadhappened. But Fabens expressed no fear or pity. Troffater said hewould give up trapping and hunting, and go right to work and earn somewheat. Fabens advised him to do it; but said he must take home thatbag full, to keep them in bread till he could earn more. Troffaterreplied that they had enough for two or three bakings, and asked if hemight not let the bag stand, and come to-morrow, and work till he hadearned it, and then take it home. But Fabens was still inexorable. IfTroffater would come to-morrow and help him three or four days, hewould pay him in wheat; but that bag-full he was welcome to, and hemust take it home that night. 

"I ken not carry it, " cried Tilly; "there's three bushels and a haff;and it'll break my back, if I try to tuck it hum. "

"I did not think of that. It will be too heavy for one load; but Iwill tell you how you can manage it, " said Fabens. "We will turn halfof it into your other bag, that lies out there by the fence, and youcan carry it half at a time, and then get it home before eleveno'clock. "

Then came another scourge like molten lead upon him. He had hoped thatFabens would not discover the other bag; but now the worst was known;and taking the fiery chastisement, he submitted, insisting on coming towork, and declaring he would take no more pay for his work; while theSquire declared if he worked he should have his pay. He carried awaythe wheat, and never again was detected in crime committed after thatnight. It could hardly be expected by any man that his character wouldbe completely changed, or his punishment entirely remitted at once. But he was a better neighbor, and more inclined to employment; and heabandoned his love of lying, law, and litigation. 

XIX. 

THE HARVEST LUNCH. 

Bearing witness of prospering hopes and growing joys, nearly atwelvemonth passed away, and Fabens commenced his wheat harvest. Thelast fall seeding was more extensive than that of any former year; thesnows came on early, and in kindly coverings, protected the tenderblades through the winter. Spring rains fell in timely showers to washit from mould, and revive it from the withering of frost and wind. Thesummer appeared early, as one of Nature's most genial and gentle, andhe looked around on harvests large and white. 

He went forth to his fields, with many men, and great preparations. The songs of the reapers were never more cheerful. The melting hoursof July were never more manfully met. The home of our farmer hadseldom less shadow with its light. Laborers found rarely a moreliberal employer than he. He was generous in the wages he gave; heallowed more resting hours than any of his neighbors; he was lessexacting in his demands; he always reserved the finest lambs andchickens to supply his table in that season; he had the best of sprucebeer in Summerfield, and the clearest crystal water. And while withthese mitigations, the toils of the harvesters were still hot and heavyto be borne, there was that in their fare, in their songs, andanimation, which told of as much happiness, as may crown the tasks oflabor. 

To all his sympathies for the laborers, to all his efforts to cheerthem, and temper their fatigues, and give them relief and refreshment, Mrs. Fabens and Fanny responded with expressions, more meaning thanwords. From the midst of the forenoon labors, they invited their helpto refreshments under some green shade tree in the field; and in thelong afternoon, three hours before supper, a refreshing lunch was againset before them, which would have answered well for supper; and itbrought vigor once more to weary arms, and vigor to weary hearts; andcalled forth thanks from minds that abounded in gratitude, as in labor. Long and affectionately were they remembered by their men, as thebringers of joy and ministers of comfort, where joy and comfort wereoften craved in vain. 

On one sweet afternoon, toward the last of the month, and the last ofthe harvest, a cool bland breeze swept over from the north, andrendered the time delightful. The sun still shone, and it was largeand yellow as in October, but the breath of the north stole the stingof fire from its beams, and rallied a thrill of life and joy throughthe drooping hearts of beasts and men. 

It was a pleasant hour to be enjoyed out of door, and it was welcomedas a blessing, by those who had kept in the shade; and Mrs. Fabens andher daughter hurried their preparations to be early in the field, withthe evening meal. 

"The men want to finish if they can, this week, " said Mrs. Fabens, "andthey have worked hard, very hard, since morning, and we must give thema good luncheon this time. "

"We will take extra pains, " responded Fanny, "and see how cheerful wecan make them. It is so cool and pleasant out now, they will enjoy it, and we shall enjoy it better than usual, as Cousin William will be withus; and let it be something more than bread and butter. I feel sosorry for them, while they work so hard in the scorching sun to make ushappy! Too much care cannot be done to refresh them, and warm up theirhearts. "

"Then, William has returned from Auburn, has he? Well, he shall seethat country people can be happy and free-hearted, if they have _not_the city refinements. And we shall again find that the greatest goodand joy on earth, we take in the good we do to others. They shall havesomething that will do them good. "

"George Ludlow looked up to me so thankful, when I turned his bowl ofcoffee, " said Fanny, "and it seemed to taste so good, and revive himso, I felt more than paid; I was myself refreshed by my trouble. "

"It does them all good, not only to be refreshed with what naturerequires, but to know that we care for them. These little acts ofkindness can never be felt, except in pleasure by us, while they willdirect a stray feeling of happiness to more than one deserving heart. It is a refreshment of the soul, to poor and rich, to know that otherscare for them. What should we live for, if not to lighten each other'slabors, and make each other happy?"

"If what father believes is true, and it looks quite rational, wepraise God most, when we are most like him, and are faithful andfree-hearted to his children. And who of us desires more praise fromthose we wait on, than a look of gratitude, and the assurance that wehave given a blessing? But, George _did_ look so thankful! PoorGeorge, how hard he has worked to be somebody in the world!"

"They all looked thankful, and what was better, they rose and went towork again with a lighter step, as though they felt younger andstronger. But, George has given you several such looks of late, andsometimes when your eyes were another way. I begin to think he meanssomething. "

"How you talk, mother!--What, looked at me several times? And when myeyes were another way?" returned Fanny, blushing like a quince blossom. 

"Well, he cannot mean anything more than thanks for our smallattentions. "

"George is a fine young man, " said Mrs. Fabens, "if the Cressey girls, and Desdemona Faddle do feel above him. They will set their caps invain for Merchant Fairbanks, for he detests their foolish pride andfinery as much as any one, and laughs in his sleeves, I'll warrant, attheir dangling curls, and their silly lisping talk, when they try tospeak polite to him; although he likes to flirt with them, and makethem think he is ready to die for them. "

"And why should _they_ feel themselves better than George?" askedFanny. "They don't astonish the world with good looks, or refinementof manners or mind. Their fathers are rich I know, and they havenothing to do but dress, and study etiquette. They can hardly stoop towhat they call common people. But I don't envy them at all. They werealways disliked at school, and were always at the foot of their class. If I were going to feel large and boast, I would want something besideswealth to feel large about. I am sure I would sooner envy GeorgeLudlow, if he is not handsome, and is poor, and works out to supporthis father and mother. He knows something, and has riches of the heartI believe. But I cannot think why he should look at me, as you say, mother. "

"I like your ideas of greatness, Fanny, " replied Mrs. Fabens, "I likeyour ideas of greatness, and am glad you do not join those foolishgirls in a pride that would despise such a young man. True greatnessis of the mind, and riches are of the heart. But let us hurry with ourrefreshments, for it is beautiful out now, and they must be hungry, andwe will enjoy it with them. "

They plied themselves briskly, and about four o'clock the white clothswere laid under a cool maple shade-tree, and on them was spread asumptuous lunch of fricasseed chickens, to be taken leisurely withflowing cups of coffee, and followed with saucers of raspberries andcream, and large and luscious pieces of blackberry pie. The look ofthankfulness and cheer which the men all returned for such arefreshment, more than rewarded them, and sweet was the gratificationwith which they themselves and the good-hearted Fabens partook of therural meal. 

The presence of William Fabens also, enhanced the interest of the hour, and furnished conversation which all were glad to hear. William Fabenswas a cousin of the Squire's, whom he had not seen before that month, since they were boys in Cloverdale. William had gone to New York cityabout the time Matthew went to Summerfield; and was now an intelligentmerchant still in trade, and was out on his first visit to the LakeCountry. He appeared much like the Squire, only a little more statelyand active, and he possessed great practical wisdom and fine commonsense. He carried a rich country nature to the city, and he hadcultured it finely, and it was bearing fair and mellow fruit. He had adouble life in consequence, and country life _citified_, perfected hiscapabilities and joys. 

He had found that life in the country and town, was life in verydifferent spheres, with different manifestations, and each a differentset of lights and shadows. Life in the country was more natural, spontaneous and quiet; life in the town was more artistic, ambitious, and flushed with fever heats. Life in the country was picturesque, like the green, lovely landscapes in which it bloomed; life in the townwas statuesque, like the flocking forms that pressed upon its sight andjostled it on its crowded way. Life in the country breathed in music;life in the town abounded in incidents and actions. 

He remembered with grateful pleasure the noble occupations andamusements of country life. But he had profited well, and not lost, bythe change. If it was a noble theme to study material nature in thelandscape and sky, he found it still more noble to study moral naturein man; and man as he moved in the town, and acted in the drama of lifethat was daily brought before him. If it was delightful to read Miltonor Beattie in a cornfield, in a clover meadow, under a tree, or on thehaymow; it was more delightful to his mind to read the same author in acity, where, seeing more of men, he could understand him better. Andwhatever was beautiful in country life he carried with him to the town, with its green and radiant pictures still glowing on his heart, and itsmorning melodies still murmuring through his soul. And he could actout in deeds, what once he meditated in ideas. He was constantlycalled, by irresistible voices, to go out of himself, and out of hisfixed and finite conceits and opinions, and mix with other souls; andtransform his conceits to comprehensive conceptions, and enlarge hisopinions to universal views. 

From this rich and varied experience, and from these elevated ideas, William Fabens spoke, as he conversed with his cousin and theharvesters, while taking the harvest lunch. 

"I suppose by this time, William, you are pretty well weaned of thecountry, " said the Squire, after a changing conversation on severalthemes. 

"O no, not at all, " said William, "not at all. My love of the countryis fresh and warm as ever. It is a singular fact, that almost all mydreams are laid in the country, on the old farm. I am often in thecountry in my mind, and receive much of my mental, as my physicalsustenance, from country stores. "

"I thought you would turn your back on the country and never think ofits homely scenes again, " said the Squire. 

"I like the city in many respects better, " said William; "so muchbetter, that I prefer living there nine months in the year. But giveme the country in the summer. In night dreams and day dreams, I returnto the old homestead, to renew my youth, and refresh my sympathies andtastes. I think of the pride of the summer landscapes; and the pomp ofsummer sunsets. I sit in the shade of my old favorite trees and woods;I bathe my heart once more in the moonlight; my ears seem to tell meagain of all the melodies of morning; the babbling brook; the lowingherd; the cowbell's simple chime; the murmur of bees and insects; thechoral concerts that ring through the woods; and I am there, young andblooming as ever, and what Beattie's 'Minstrel' saw and heard, I seemto see and hear once more. "

"I know not how it may be in cities, " said the Squire; "but I haveoften noticed in our villages, that the countryman gets laughed at forhis greenness. This never disturbed me. I have felt that we wereinferior to none of their village bloods. Better be green on thesurface than rotten at the core. And I have remembered how many greatmen of the world were bred in the country. "

"The cities are often guilty of the same, " said William, "forgettinghow many angels they entertain unawares. Did ever a mortal man lookmore of the rustic clown than the country boy, Sam Johnson, when hefirst went to London? And could he not make dictionaries, and writeRasselas?"

"And who can imagine a more ludicrous object, " asked the Squire, "thanshabby, and chubby, and warty little Oliver Goldsmith, when he firstwaddled, staring and gaping, through Green-Arbor Court, and upFishstreet Hill? And has he not given us prose and poetry that willlive as long as the English tongue is known?"

"We might have laughed at Shakspeare, " added William, "when, a greencountry runaway, he first entered the metropolis; we might have laughedat Dryden, coming up from the provinces in his coarse Norwich druggetand wooden shoes--over thirty years old, and not yet aware that hecould write a line of verse. But for all that, did not Shakspearewrite Hamlet? and Dryden give laws and models for English heroic verse?"

"And some might have thanked the Dumfries gentry for putting the rusticBurns in the kitchen with the servants to eat, " added the Squire; "butdid not Burns make a song there, to shame his proud insulters; and didhe not sing--

 'A man's a man for a' that. '

The temptations of the city are the most that I should fear. "

"They are many and great, " said William; "and I do not wonder that somany perish in the ordeal. Yet I know that people need not fall, ifthey will open their eyes, and act out their country nature. Evilaffords a high and noble discipline when we meet it like men, andovercome its onsets. When men and women from the country have finisheda course of city life, with warm hearts remaining in them, unsullied bycorruptions they have seen, they are found to possess all the morestrength of will, elevation of mind, and grace and grandeur of life, from the school from which they graduate. Each exercise of strength wetake in resisting temptation, is the moral gymnastics that redoublesthat power against the next encounter, and adds muscle and fire to allthe capabilities of life. Each exercise of sense we take todiscriminate between true and false life, true and false pleasure, trueand false charmers, is a training of the intellect and judgment to moredelicate discernments, and more virtuous and vital joys. A man entersthe city as Hercules entered the world; the characters that go forth tomeet him are like the true and false goddesses that met that hero anddetermined his choice; and that fine old fable shows that even theexercise of mind which is impelled by the two voices, will add newstrength to one's being, cut out the blurs from his eyes, and make thejudgment more active and perception more keen. "

"That is all very true, " said the Squire; "and your own life is anillustration. But if I should enter a city to live, I fear it wouldcool off my sympathies, and harden my heart. "

"I should not fear that of you, Matthew, " said William; "although it isthe case with thousands. We need not be cooled or hardened. We seemore of the evil side of life, to be sure; but it does not harden all. John Howard and Elizabeth Fry saw more of the evils of life than mostcity people. They visited the very dens of suffering want andimprisoned crime; but to them such sights were nobly instructive, andthey grew great-hearted and noble while reading the lessons. Theirsympathies were softened and warmed; their interest in humanity wasredoubled, and their love for our race quickened and expanded, untilthey found no rest so sweet, as after long rounds of philanthropiclabor; no delight so pure as kindness; no beauty so divine as charity;and no riches so ample and enjoyable as those laid up for benevolence, and those received back to the generous soul in return for gifts anddeeds of good. "

"You delight me, William, " said the Squire; "and if you will go aroundlecturing the country people, you will see them all flocking to thetown. "

"The more, the better for us, " said William. "They are the bestmaterials of which the town can replenish its numbers and forces. Their great good sense; their healthy and generous instincts; theirlarge and throbbing hearts; their picturesque minds and memories needonly the discipline and finish of city life, to round them up intorobust men and women of sweet and symmetrical characters, and fair andfull-blooming souls. "

On this occasion George Ludlow seemed to regard Fanny Fabens withincreased attention; and as their glances more than once met, anartless, innocent blush would express on each face the timidity oftheir natures, if not the emotions of their hearts. 

The truth to tell, George had contracted for Fanny an affection whichhe dared to disclose no more significantly, than by those expressionsof the eye and face, which would not be concealed; and since theconversation in the house, he had scarcely been absent from herthoughts. She considered his pure life and enlightened mind, andinquired, "Where is the young man that has more nobleness than he?"She thought of his kindness to his parents, and admired the example. She called to mind his love of nature, and books, his efforts ofimprovement, even amid tasks of diligent toil; and she honored him inher soul; honored him the more for his own honor of his calling; andbegan to return a kindling flame of that affection, which she conceivedhe might indulge for her. But a few words were exchanged between them, however, and it remains for some future chapter to relate the result ofthose growing loves. 

The men rose from their luncheon, when a cool and reviving hour hadbeen taken, and while the women were departing with William to thehouse, and while Fabens remained under the maple, Merchant Fairbankscame up, and after the usual salutations, he talked a moment with theladies, and then made Fabens an offer for his wheat crop, and commenceda pleasant talk. 

XX. 

MERCHANT FAIRBANKS. 

Merchant Fairbanks sold goods in Summerfield, and undertook largedealings with the farmers there; buying their crops and bartering insmaller transactions, for butter and cheese, wool and feathers, woodand ashes, eggs and paper rags. He had tarried in town only two orthree years, and few were intimately acquainted with him, although manysupposed that they knew him well; and few men enjoyed more confidenceor love. 

He possessed a tall and imposing person; a face that all declared"fine, " and "noble;" a large and glowing chestnut eye; a serene andinspiring presence; and hair so dark, that it reflected at times straytints of purple, and was lustrous and smooth as a blackbird's wing, Hewas scrupulous in the arrangement of his attire, and still there was astudied contrivance of modest dignity about it all, that attractedattention, and set off his honors. 

He was an instant and accurate judge of character; he discerned by aglance of his quick perceptions the lights and shadows of the humanmind, and was accomplished in manners that won the esteem of thepeople, and enlisted them warmly in his favor. He remembered littlethings, to accomplish great ones; he would call to your recollectionsome trifling fact of which you supposed all beside yourselfunconscious, that would flatter your self-esteem in spite of you, andwin for himself your approbation. He remembered the names of hiscustomers and acquaintances, and called them emphatically, if he hadseen them never but once before; he was particular to salute each manwith his title, and whether that title was military, religious orjudicial, if he was in any doubt of its particular elevation, he wouldbe sure and get it so high that, when mistaken, a captain could answerto the appellation of major; a justice to that of judge; a meekdisciple to that of deacon, and a preacher to that of doctor. 

He knew many children in town, he spoke all their names, and told ofsome good-looking relative or friend of his on the Hudson, whom theystrikingly resembled. He distinctly professed private religious andpolitical opinions of his own, while he knew there were the best ofpeople in all parties and persuasions, and put every one at perfectease with whom he conversed, convincing them that controversy wasunprofitable, and the slight difference between them, after all, wouldbe more in talk than in truth. He was a popular merchant, and thecentral attraction of several gay circles in the town. 

With her searching discernment, Mrs. Fabens had discovered in him morethan one design which she pronounced artful; she studied his character, and told her husband and daughter in confidence, she believed him acunning flatterer, and a cheat; and that he would not always sail insmooth water in Summerfield. 

But Fabens would hardly listen for a moment to her surmises. He haddealt with Merchant Fairbanks considerably; he had always believed himhonest and manly, and he joined the multitude in much of the praisewhich they bestowed upon him. 

As for Fanny, though she had not given the gentleman a great manythoughts, she regarded him favorably, and found him a most mannerlysalesman, an affable and gallant man. She thought him far better thanmany who ran after him, and she was in no wise averse to consider himher friend. 

"But you may depend upon it, " said Mrs. Fabens to her husband, seriously--"depend upon it, he is not so particular and loud, incalling you 'Squire' for nothing; and it cannot be always a mistake, when he says 'Judge Fabens;' nor does he consult your opinion on somany things, because the opinion has the value of a straw in hisestimation. He may never injure you, and I will not fear that he can;but it will be well to reserve a little confidence till he is betterknown, and not be too quickly carried away with him. "

But Fabens was still confident that Fairbanks was honorable and worthyof respect and trust; he was often at his store; he often relied on hisintegrity for important considerations; and he was well assured that hewas a man of merit and justice, and entitled to his enviable name. Andso marked was his confidence, it had induced Fairbanks to come withouthesitation again to buy all the wheat he could sell, and ask to havecredit till January. He offered a fairer price than Fabens had hopedto obtain that season, and he engaged it on the desired time. 

Fairbanks was unusually social and winning that afternoon, when hefound them rising from the lunch in the field; and he conversed freelyand pleasantly with Mrs. Fabens and her daughter, as they departed forthe house; and then turned to Fabens and conversed a long while, sayingat last--"That is your _only daughter_, I believe, Judge?"

"Yes, and only child, now, I suppose, that we have on earth, " answeredFabens. 

"You may think I am too free, comparative stranger as I am, in myconversation with her, " said Fairbanks. 

"O, no; I like to see folks familiar and friendly. Familiarity is thelife of company, while stiffness and formality give it a chill which isquite disagreeable to me, " said Fabens. 

"Perhaps I should not be so familiar to her; but she reminds me so muchof a dear sister of mine on the Hudson, that I feel attracted towardsher; and it seemed every moment as if my sister was going to speak tome. She is a good sister, too, and quite intelligent, if I am herbrother; and I think I have a right to say it. And there is that sametrembling modesty, that same blushing innocence and blooming beauty, toremind me of my sister; and had her hair been a shade or two darker, and her teeth not so ivory white; I believe I should have forgotten Iwas talking to a stranger. You will pardon my frankness, Squire, Iknow you will. I am apt to talk right out just as I happen to feel. "

"Certainly, certainly, Mr. Fairbanks. I always admired frankness. Perhaps you say too much of our daughter; but she is a very good sortof a girl; and we tried, as far as we were able, to give her acommon-sense view of things, and have her respectable. I am thankfulthat she is not as brazen as some girls; and good health has flushedher face with fresh and blooming looks. "

"You needn't fear for _that_ girl--pardon my freedom, Squire. No younglady of such a turned forehead, and such eyes and address, ever cameshort of what good parents desired. "

"Then you are a phrenologist, Mr. Fairbanks?"

"I have studied such things considerably, and am not often mistaken. High and full in all the frontal and coronal regions--such heads arenever given to flirts or fools. "

"She is just as the Lord has permitted her to be; and we are thankfulthat she has filled our home with so much light and joy. "

"I know she must be dutiful; and at the same time wishing to know thewhys and wherefores of things, she asks a few questions, I suspect, that she may know something, and have an opinion of her own. "

"She never did a thing, as I recollect, that caused us an hour'sregret; but, as you say, she wishes to know things for herself; andsometimes, when we have been tired and dull, she has wearied us withquestions. She has a great mind to acquire knowledge, and have anintelligent opinion; and we ought never to be impatient with her, orrefuse an answer. "

"She may thank father and mother for that disposition, I suspect. Howmuch she looks like her mother! And still she has your forehead, andeyes, _almost_--if I remember right; and I should know she was yourdaughter, if I met her in France. "

"Her eyes are much lighter and bluer than mine; but they may resemblethem in shape and size. As for her hair--"

"I was just a-going to ask where she got that fairy flaxen hair?"

"We cannot tell where the color came from, except from our white blood. My hair was light when a boy. "

"That then accounts for hers. "

"But never so milk-white as hers. "

"Hers will grow dark, you may depend; it will be dark as yours when asold. But what if it is not? I should like it all the better as it is;it is handsome _enough_, and it is not so common as brown or black. "

"But here it is nearly dark, and I have not had the manners to inviteyou to the house. Come, go in with me, and take a dish of tea. "

"O Squire, I beg you to excuse me. I have some business at home that Imust attend to to-night, and I must go. But that is the way with me, always! When I am in good company, I never know how time flits by, norwhere to break off my talk. Come over and see me, Squire! Do come andsee me. Good night. " And as Fairbanks went for his horse to go home, Fabens ordered his men to quit work, and they all returned to the housein excellent spirits for supper and sleep. 

Fabens had made it the effort of his life to resist flattery, andpreserve a decent self-respect without a vain emotion; but it nevergrieved him to call him Squire; and there was much in what Fairbankssaid and suggested, which he thought evinced uncommon discernment, anda clear and discriminating mind; and he was happy in the belief that itcame right up from his heart, warm and sincere. He determined that hewould not allow his own heart to take any flattery from what he hadheard; yet what was said of Fanny--and her father and motheralso!--could not be displeasing, coming as it did from one of anelevated station and mind: and he concluded that it was right for himto be encouraged by the compliments, and congratulated himself on thehappiness of such a family and such a friend. 

He enjoyed a fine conversation with his cousin William that evening;and showed him his farm, and visited with him all he could, the nextday; and the day following, William departed for the city, leaving manywarm regards behind, and carrying home a large supply of sweet countrysummer in his soul. 

XXI. 

THE HUSKING. 

In modern times the Husking Party has gone out of fashion inSummerfield; but in ancient times, while the manners of the peopleremained primitive and pure, this festival (for festival it was)continued of great account. It was sometimes held in barns, andsometimes in the open fields; and the attendance of good wives andmaidens, and the occurrence of music and dancing at the close, was nounusual joy. We may call it a 'movable feast, ' for every autumn itmoved the rounds of the Settlement; and now in rare October, and nearthe wane of the month, it came Fabens' turn to hold it again. 

It was one of those golden weeks when the pleasantest house seems aprison, and you feel as if you must live day and night out of doors. The breeze from the cool Cayuga never fanned the brow nor tingled theblood with a more hilarious spirit; and the orchards were never morefragrant, nor the silver moon more round or fair. 

Fabens marshalled his corn 'stouts, ' like a legion of soldiers in ahollow square, on the green mown meadow in front of his house, aquarter of a mile away; and sent invitations far and near for a verylarge gathering. He was particular even to invite Tilly Troffater andhis family; and a great number came. They came at half-past six; andas the last sat down to the husking, the mild and majestic moon rosesmiling over the Owasco woods, and flooded the skies, and kindled thedews with her mellow beams. Uncle Walter and Mr. Waldron were thefirst on the ground; and Wilson and Troffater did not linger longbehind. A number of women were present; and a whole bevy of jocundboys enjoyed it. The greetings were warm and brief, and the songs andstories commenced quite early. Colwell had been on a bee hunt, hesaid, that day, in the Richmond Openings, and discovered three swarms, and almost traced another. Uncle Walter had been husking the corn hehad topped and left on the hill. Mr. Nimblet had harrowed in alate-sown fallow. Troffater had looked to his traps, and spent therest of the day fishing on the lake. Most of the women had been dryingapples and coloring flannel. 

Fanny Fabens and Nancy Nimblet sang the 'Silver Moon;' and allconfessed it was never sung better. Uncle Walter told a panther story, with thrilling additions they never had heard before; sent cuttinglittle tremors of terror trembling through their hearts, and made themthank their stars that those perilous days were over. Troffater toldhis "Jemmy Harvey" story, saying "Jemmy was green as a mess o' cowslopsand the priest tuck forty dollars for pardoning his sins, and left himwithout a shiner to tuck himself hum agin;" then he crossed and cockedhis black and blue eyes and laughed in convulsions at the story, whilethey laughed at the manner in which the story was told. Teezle told astory about the Indians and Tories "that cut up such didoes in therevolution down there in the Diliway. " Colwell repeated the story ofMilo Dale, the money-digger. 

Then Squire Fabens told a story of a man who was caught in hisneighbor's granary borrowing wheat, and who was given a bag full andhis supper in the bargain, and sent home, promising he'd never do thelike again. 

"A sap-headed fool, I guess it was, that found him, and let him slipoff in that way, " said Colwell. 

"That may be; but he did one wise act of his life, in his treatment tothe borrower, and I dare say that man will never violate his vow, "answered Fabens. 

"I don't know about that, " said Teezle. "I should be afraid on't, andlock up my grainery olers after. "

"The person did not lock his granary, and no borrower I dare say hasset foot in it since. "

"_Thief_, why didn't ye say?" inquired Colwell. 

"O, he did not mean to steal, " answered Fabens. "His family werehungry, and he was too bashful to ask for it, and was taking the wheatonly till after the next year's harvest. The exposure of his errormight have ruined him; and he might have been driven to a desperatelife of crime. Now I think he must be a better man than beforeovertaken by temptation. "

"Yes, --but--the scamp orto've been punished, " rejoined Colwell. "Idon't b'lieve in lettin' such scamps off without their punishment. "

By this time the company were enlisted in the discussion, and more thanone remarked that he ought to have been punished; yet no one surmisedthat the culprit sat in their midst, and was tortured by their words. Troffater knew not where to turn his little earthen eyes, for fear ofencountering accusers; and he fixed them on the moon, and whistled asnatch or two of his addicted music; then bit his lips, and blowed, andhitched around on his seat, and blushed like a jack-o'-lantern. 

"Yes, the scamp orto've been punished, I say, " repeated Colwell. 

"Think he was not punished then?" asked Fabens. "I think he was alittle! If I had stood in his shoes, I am sure I should rather havebeen basted, or anything else, than served as he was. "

"But he got away from the law, " said Colwell. 

"Not the living law, let me tell you, " answered Fabens. "Not away fromGod's law written on his heart, and threading the bone and marrow ofhis being. To get away from that law, he had first to escape the reachof God's hand, and run away from his own body and spirit. That was notso easy a feat, Mr. Colwell. 

"For the sake of our good social law, it may have been the person'sduty to drag the poor man to light, and give him open justice; but heprobably judged in that case, that the social law was better served andguarded in its spirit, if not in its letter, than if the offender hadbeen exposed and imprisoned, to be let loose again with vengeanceagainst the law, and against mankind. 

"I venture to assert that the treatment cured the error, and theborrower will not violate the law again; while he might have run riotin open crime, had he been openly dealt with. The majesty of the lawthen was vindicated, and the injury done the system was repaired. 

"And all that while he was amenable to God's living law traced all overand around his heart; and supposing he runs abroad and treads the greenearth, and tastes the free air, and sees the bright sky; he is aprisoner still if he lives, and has not risen in goodness beyond sightof his sin; his body is his prison, his veins bind him down and hisnerves bar him in. He senses his punishment keenly; it cuts to thequick, and he grieves, and trembles and gasps, whenever his fault comesto mind. Let him run at large; that law of God will follow him, watching with eyes from which no night can hide him; scourging withwhips from which no shield defends. "

"Squire Fabens is a very forgiving man, " said Mrs. Teezle. "He's_very_ forgiving, and I think he's right. "

"I claim no merit for that, " said Fabens. "It is easy and right toforgive others. God himself forgives very freely. But the man has oneenemy who may never forgive him in this world, and may not forgive himat Judgment till long after God has forgiven him. Though this willdepend somewhat on his indolence or diligence in cultivating goodnessand truth. That enemy is himself, and self-forgiveness is the mostdifficult, as it is the last to obtain. "

"That may be all so, but I'd a given him _some_, I swanny, if I had aketched him in my grainery, " said Colwell. 

"I never see it in Fabens's light afore, " interrupted Teezle. 

"Nor I, " "nor I, " added others; and the discussion ended. 

Then a song was called for, and Colwell sang the 'Tea Song;' and FannyFabens sang the 'Whippoorwill, ' and the very air attended, to hear thehappy girl, and the insects were hushed to silence, and the moon leanedand listened, and the woods and the lake bandied back and to thechorus, and repeated, and prolonged her full and silvery sounds. 

Then they talked old times over, and rehearsed a few personalhistories, while the yellow corn glistened in rising hills before them. Mr. Waldron related scenes he witnessed at Bennington and Saratoga, andtold of the Captain's commission and forty dollars in silver, hereceived for taking six Hessians at the battle of Trenton. Troffaterwanted to tell what his father did in the Revolution, but he had notcourage to speak; and perhaps if he had, some one would have hinted thecurrent tradition, that his father was a cowboy, and stole cattle fromthe Americans, and drove and sold them to the British, and then stolethem from the British and drove them back again. The conversation soonturned on the settlement, and the history of the oldest inhabitants. 

"I tell ye what, they were rather tough times after all, " said UncleWalter. "I remember when I cut the first tree on my farm, and stuckthe first stake for my shanty. I had come a good ways from home, andit was going on night, and the wolves howled in hearing, and I begun tofeel dubious. Uncle Waldron heard me chopping, and come, and took mehome to his little hemlock hut. Remember it, Uncle Mose? I slep onthe softest corner of your black muck-floor, and you said I snored likean alligator. "

"The Stringers kept bachelors-hall, they say, over on the Owasco Flats, and baked nine crusts to one jonny cake, " added Colwell. 

"O, my stars!" cried Nancy Nimblet, "that must have been long before wecame here; and, pray tell, Mr. Colwell, how they managed their dough. "

"Why, they wet their pounded corn in water (there was no mill in theseparts then), tossed up a hunker of a loaf, laid it down on a flat stoneby the fire, and baked a crust, then peeled it off and eat it, whileanother was bakin', and so on to the ninth crust of the same smokin'cake. "

"And it was thought a scrumtious kind of a thing to visit the gals inour buff-leather breeches in them days, " said Colwell. 

"O, the _buff_ breeches came long after that, " said Fabens. "We hadgrown quite civilized and fashionable when we wore the yellow buffs. Besides, in those times there were not many girls in the country tovisit. But if the times were tough, they gave us a great deal ofcomfort. I came here with my axe on my shoulder; I cut the first treeon my farm, too, and paid for my farm, chopping for others. I made myfirst bedstead. There was an auger in the settlement--it was yours, Uncle Walter, and I borrowed that and framed me a bedstead of maplesaplings, and laced in elm-bark in lieu of a cord, and it gave me manypleasant sleeps. 

"After a while, I wanted a carriage of some kind to bring in my grain, and draw away my ashes. So I blocked off the wheels with my axe, fromthe butt of a black oak tree, and backed home boards for a box, threemiles, from the nearest saw-mill. It did me good service, and I soldit for a price when I bought my first wagon. But we all took a worldof comfort; and what was pleasanter work than putting up log heaps andbrush heaps in the cool of the night, and seeing them blaze again onour clean sweet fallows?"

"A feast on bear's meat and metheglin, at Aunt Polly's, " cried Colwell. 

"Picking bushels of wild strawberries, big as your thumb, " added Mrs. Colwell. 

"And going four miles to raisins, " added Thomas Teezle. 

"And five miles to weddins, once in a while, " added Mrs. Teezle. 

"To those very times we are indebted, " said Fabens; "to its tugginglabors and hard privations, its trials, and griefs, we are indebted formuch of the fulness of heart, and breadth of character we now possess, and the comforts we are taking on our handsome farms. We took muscleand might from nature; we rounded out our life; we learned to shift forourselves, and feel for our neighbors; and the earth crowned our laborswith such harvests, we grew hopeful and brave. We all of us learnedthings that cannot be found in books. Books have their value, and itis very great. They teach us to take the hip-lock of nature, and leadus cross-lots to success; they increase and elevate the pleasures ofour vocation; a taste for them, is itself a blessing that sweetens ourleisure hours, attracts us from temptations, and will gladden our oldage. But of the two, a large and wise experience is better, and comeswell before them. "

As he concluded these words, the hour of the clock was told, and thecompany were served to warm pumpkin-pie, that was a luxury to taste, and refreshment to remember. Then the young people had a play and adance on the green, and the old people exchanged good wishes, and allwent their ways, leaving the Fabenses happier for that reunion ofneighborly hearts, than for the multiplied piles of corn they leftglowing in the moonlight. 

XXII. 

GEORGE LUDLOW AND ALMON FRISBIE. 

George Ludlow was introduced in a former chapter; Mrs. Fabens and herdaughter discussed his character and life. They spoke of him as poor, and dependent on his own hands for a living for the family; as despisedby certain young people in Summerfield who happened to stand aboveneed; and yet as manly and capable; a lover of nature and books. Ineed say nothing of his person, except that he was homely to a strangerand handsome to a friend. I need say little more of his past historythan this; he had labored for Fabens for a few weeks, and now a mutualregard quite ripened to affection, was rising between him and Fanny. 

George well knew her worth and happy fortune; he remembered that he waspoor in what the world called riches; yet, possessing a manlyself-respect, he considered himself as made in no way inferior onaccount of his poverty; and observing that she reciprocated freely anyregard he gave her, he had the boldness at last to declare hisaffection, and intimate the happiness it would pour into his heart andlife, some day to possess her as his wife; and it was not in her will, nor in that of her parents, to return one word of discouragement;although it was an opinion of theirs, to which he freely responded, that the final decision should be deliberately weighed, and the unionset over to a time at which they would be better prepared for a happybridal and a happy life. 

But the impressions left by Fairbanks on the mind of Fabens, after theconversation in the harvest field, tended only to strengthen the Squirein the opinion that his wife had misjudged the gentlemanly merchant;and to elevate Fairbanks the more in his confidence and esteem. Andreturning to the house that evening, Fanny remarked to her mother, thatshe must have judged, too hastily: "for much as I have tasked my powersof discernment, " said she, "I cannot detect the first design or word, which would lead me to suspect that Mr. Fairbanks is deceptive. True, he rather addresses himself to one's self-esteem, and is open, andardent for a comparative stranger; but it must be a manly way of his, which he forgets to hold in reserve; and I believe he is a gentleman. I am sure, too, mother, that I have not allowed myself to feelflattered by his words; nor could I ever regard him as nearer than afriend. A true friend to us I believe he is. A face expressing somuch open goodness; a bearing so instinctively affable, could notbelong to a bad man. "

Fairbanks was too clear-sighted not to read and know the hearts withwhich he was making acquaintance; and his well-considered planssuffered nothing for want of diligence on his part, in being brought toa fulfilment. Nor did he stand or act alone. 

Almon Frisbie was his clerk and confidant, and talked of a friendshipthat began long before they left the Hudson; and he was prompt at anymoment to receive his counsels in sacred trust, and go on all hiserrands. He was ardent and unreserved in expressing his love forFairbanks; and Fairbanks was free and fond in the good things he saidof Frisbie; and the people of Summerfield were very happy with suchvalued acquisitions to their society; and enjoyed the pleasantest hourswhenever they numbered the merchant and clerk among their guests. 

Promptly at the time agreed on, Frisbie came with the money to pay forthe delivered wheat-crop; paid the entire sum in Spanish milleddollars; and spent an agreeable evening, discussing character, hearingFabens's history from before the time of his settlement there; andgiving incidents of his own life, and his adventures and experiences, with Fairbanks. 

It was a pleasant hour. This was the second winter they were enjoyingtheir new house, and the change and contrast could not be forgotten. The new house stood on a gentle eminence, a quarter of a mile from theroad, and within a distant view of the lake, which was beautiful insummer. There was a fine selection of all the forest trees that onceflourished on the farm, in front of the house, which had beentransplanted there twelve years before, in preparation of shade andbeauty for the dooryard; and though their verdant honors had been shedin autumn, they reminded the hearts within of their guardian presence, by the whisperings of love they blent with the winter blast. 

The house was a high story and a half, and stood thirty-five by thirtyon the ground. It had a north room and south room, with bedroomsattached; it had four chambers, two large and two small, above; and akitchen, a tea-room, and wood-house in the rear. It was painted whitewithout, with a coal-black border on the tops of the chimneys, and hadblinds of Paris green. It had white walls and oak-grained doors andcasings in the south room, and white walls, doors and casings in thenorth room. The north room was Fanny's, and the spare bed was spreadwith a blue and white carpet-coverlet, spun with her own hand, andwoven in Auburn prison; and it was hung with snow-white curtains, whichshe spun and wove. She had a stove in the north room, and a fire-boardbehind, covered with trees, watered with a silver lake, and stockedwith a herd of deer, three of which were drinking from the lake. 

In the south room was another bed; and that was hung with checkeredcurtains; and there was an ample fireplace; and that was the familyroom. There sat the company when Frisbie made his call. 

Fabens was advanced in life, and yet he looked young, as if time hadtaken a ten years' rest. Mrs. Fabens had grown round and robust; buthad not shed her blooms; while Fanny had become perfectly straight, andher hair was two shades darker; her eyes had still more lustre; hercountenance still more life, and her voice still more music; while herstep was more elastic, and her form was more nature. 

A prodigal walnut fire glowed gloriously before them; butternuts andchestnuts were tasted, and a large dish of rosy Spitzenbergs passedaround; and while Fabens and Frisbie kept up a running talk, Mrs. Fabens and Fanny enjoyed the hour, as one sat knitting fringe-mittensin the corner, and the other plied her dexterous needle piecing abed-quilt in snow-balls by the stand; and seeming to contend with thewalnut fire, which should give forth the liveliest, warming smile, andfill up all the room with the most comfort, joy, and peace. 

"Yes, I have known Fairbanks, known him like a brother, since we werelittle boys at school, " said Frisbie. "We began our A B C's together, when Mary Sanford taught school; and I remember we said, 'A, ' 'B, ' 'C, ''D, ' and so on, in a loud voice, both at a time. And that MarySanford--you did not know her, did you, Squire? She taught in the samedistrict five years; and it was said, she impressed much of her ownnoble heart on her pupils (though of this, perhaps, it does not become_me_ to speak;) but she married a false villain at last, and now shelives poor and deserted, they say, away out on the White Woman's Tract, beyond the Genesee river, with a family of children to support. 

"And my heart has ached for many lovely girls who have thrownthemselves away to such scoundrels. Her husband was brought up in theneighborhood too, and everybody thought George Lowry was a very pink ofvirtue. That made it seem so strange. Well, as I was going to say, Fairbanks always seemed a brother to me; and if there could be anyfault in his treatment, he has trusted me too largely, and given me toshare too many of his gifts and gains. But there, you never saw such afellow in your life!"

"In what particular?" asked Fabens; while Mrs. Fabens took a quickerrock in her chair and scratched her forehead with her knitting needle;and Fanny paused from her piecing to hear. 

"I mean in his confidence in men, and his free-heartedness, giving awaywhat he has. He would share his last crust with an enemy, and he is soup and down honest himself, he believes the whole world honest and purealso. "

"But he seems to be a good judge of character, " said Fabens, "and Ishould think he would not be often deceived. I see he notices headsand dispositions pretty narrowly. "

"He _is often_ deceived, " said Frisbie, "and he has met losses andcrosses enough to make a few of his black hairs turn white. But I tellhim it's owing to his putting too much confidence in men. He thinkseverybody is honest because he is. His mother used to tell him, whenhe was a little boy, that he would always be poor, he was so confidingand free-hearted. "

"There is a good deal in that, " said Fabens, "and it is very true, as Ihave found it. Men that can be trusted most, are commonly mosttrusting, while the false and guilty are always on the lookout forrogues. How is Fairbanks' business now? He has met no losses inSummerfield, I hope. "

"O, no, no! I did not refer to anything that had taken place since hecame to this town, " said Frisbie. "Of all the world, this is just theplace for Fairbanks, and I tell him so. Where all are honest as one'sself, there can be no trouble. He never was doing so well, by half, asnow, I dare say. His business is large already, and his collectionsare remarkably prompt. They seem here to like him, about as well as helikes them. "

"He seems to attend to his business pretty closely; I like that inhim, " said Fabens. 

"Attend to business? Ay! if you could see all the time, how he attendsto business, Squire; how he searches and foots his legers every day, "said Frisbie; "how he keeps things moving and straight, and pays hisnotes before they come due, you would say he could not help prospering, and you would back him for any amount he would ask. But, here, it isnine o'clock, already, and I must face this cold storm, that has comeup since I came. "

"Don't hurry away yet, " said Fabens. "There is nothing to call youhome. Stay all night, we will be glad to have you, and you shall havean early start in the morning. "

"O, I _must go to-night_, " said Frisbie, and he took his cloak, andconcluded the conversation--"_I must go to-night_. I told Fairbanks, Iwould be home before ten, and he knows what to depend on. We keep ourword with each other. Come over and see us, Squire. We have a fineroom fitted up now, in the store, where we can entertain our friends. Fairbanks is _always_ glad to see you. He thinks Squire Fabens abouteast, and his family too! He would feel more freedom to visit you, ifyou would call on him oftener. I never saw a man who thought more ofseeing his friends. And so far from home as we are, you must rememberthat our friends here stand in the place of the absent and dear. "

Frisbie departed, and Fabens expressed the liking he had taken to thefellow, and the increased esteem he must confess for Fairbanks. 

"I am sure, " said Fanny, laying aside her work, but not her smiles, that outshone the walnut fire, nor that presence of blissful life, thatfilled up all the warm room; "I am sure, there cannot be much deceptionin them. We would detect it in some way, if there was. "

"Do you esteem either of them as you do George Ludlow?" asked Mrs. Fabens. 

"No, I do not in all respects, " answered Fanny. "My esteem for him, asfor them, increases. And the way the Faddle girls treat George, makesme think all the more of him, and desire to make him happy. Then Iadmire his sentiments and tastes, and his love of labor. Still I wouldbe glad to number Mr. Fairbanks and Mr. Frisbie among my friends. Wasthe man named Lowry or Ludry that he said married his teacher? Itsounded so much like Ludlow, it startled me. "

"It was Lownsly, Lowry, or something like it, " answered Mrs. Fabens. --"There are some things which seem fair, and even generous inthem, it is true. And Fairbanks has a way of looking very meek andinnocent; and one of two things is certain: he must be unacquaintedwith the world, and incapable of a thought of deception, or else he isan arch and dissembling rogue. But there are some expressions abouthis eyes that I cannot like; and I think there is a little blarneyabout them both. I may be wrong; I hope I am, and if I am, that I maybe forgiven. It is unpleasant to be haunted by these suspicions. Butthere, I could help breathing as well. "

Upon this, Fabens went to his barn to look after his cattle and see ifany would be likely to suffer in the storm; and finding all incomfortable quarters, he returned, saying, "I wish I could know thateverybody in the world had as happy a home as we have to-night. Icould then rest more warmly and sweetly. It is bitter cold night, andI fear many will suffer. I am glad I made the wood-bee for poorTroffater. His family can have the comfort of warm fires this winter. The neighbors turned out well, and a good big pile of beech and maplelies at his door. I shall sleep better for that. "

They enjoyed their devotions, Fabens praying that God would bless Hisbeloved poor, and all who were suffering and needy; while He kept theirown hearts from unjust judgments, from deception and evil; and theywere soon wrapped warmly and well in the slumbers of the night. 

XXIII. 

FAIRBANKS, FRISBIE, AND FABENS. 

Not another month expired before Fairbanks paid a visit to SquireFabens, and conversed a whole evening on topics that could not butinterest the family; and Mrs. Fabens confessed he had never appeared sowell to her mind before; and that if there were art and insinuation inhis manner that time, it was so skilfully managed and deeply concealedshe could not discover it. 

Still something impressed her with the conviction that it would bequite as well not to rely too much on his integrity, until he wasbetter known; and by no large trusts committed to his honor, to tempthim to an act of vice. But Fabens and Fanny could harbor nosuspicions; while for the latter, Fairbanks showed more regard on thisoccasion than would have been compatible with a knowledge of herengagement to Ludlow, and respect for the sanctity of plighted love. Still, it appeared his unthinking way of indulging hearty friendship;and indeed it rather augmented than diminished Fanny's regard for him. 

When about to return, Fairbanks remarked that he had been engagedbeyond present preparations in the purchase of produce of late, and hadexpended more of his money than he calculated in the beginning; and ifthe Squire would lend him fifty dollars he should have it back again ina fortnight. The money was handed him without hesitation; and just aweek from that time, Frisbie came and paid it, saying that Fairbanksalways felt distressed when he could not take up his notes, and payborrowed money before he agreed to. He spent another evening; andamong other questions, he inquired, in an innocent way, if they knewGeorge Ludlow. 

"We know him very well. Why, what of him?" returned Fabens. 

"O, nothing, " answered Frisbie; "nothing. I happened to think of himjust now; that is all. I believe Fairbanks saw him for the first timein your harvest-field last summer. He would not have remembered it, ifLudlow had not had occasion to mention the circumstance in connectionwith another affair the other day. "

"Then you have seen something of him, have you?" inquired Fabens. 

"O, but little, sir, very little indeed, " said Frisbie. "He came theother day to trade out a due-bill, and--I believe Fairbanks is wellenough satisfied about him now. We were not certain that you knew himvery well. "

"There was no difficulty with him, I presume?" said Fabens, notindifferently. 

"O, no, nothing of any consequence whatever; nothing that we wouldbreathe abroad, or wish to remember, " said Frisbie, with a meekenedlook. 

"May I ask if anything dishonorable on his part?" inquired Fabens. "Wehave supposed him one of our best young men--one of the _very_ best intown; and we have known him from a child. "

"I am sorry I mentioned his name: I see it disturbs you, " said Frisbie. "I would not weaken one's confidence in another for anything in theworld--unless I had the weightiest reason. And this was nothing ofimportance, for one of his friends to know. "

"But may _we_ not know it, and be relieved of our anxiety?" askedFabens, with rising emotion. 

"Why, --yes, I would as lief _you_ would know it as not, " said Frisbie. "_You_ will say it was a trifling affair, and little worth mindingafter all. Hundreds of young men do the same, and never repeat it, andare just as well thought of, too, by a good many people. Temptationslie in wait to ensnare us all; and the greatest wonder is, not that nowand then one becomes criminal, but that so many people, good as you andI, Squire Fabens, do not oftener step aside from virtue's way. "

"But we thought George Ludlow the last to be tempted. He is certainlya most respectable young man. His very looks bespeak an innocentheart. I seldom meet him without desiring to exclaim as Jesus did atthe approach of young Nathanael--'Behold an Israelite indeed, in whomthere is no guile!' And then he is so industrious and regular, " saidFabens warmly. 

"I am very glad you think and feel as you do. It is truly refreshingto witness such confidence in men. And I told Fairbanks that Georgelooked as though he worked hard, and wanted to be respected. "

"But tell me, what of his error, Mr. Frisbie? I insist upon knowing. "

"You shall know, Squire Fabens. I would as lief _you_ would know asnot; you will not breathe it where it can hurt Ludlow. You know we arebound to lift up the fallen--not to crush them. "

"But he has not fallen, I hope! What was his error?"

"Do not let it trouble you, Squire, do not let it trouble you at all. I think just as much of him, far's I know, as ever I did. Thecrime--if crime _you_ would call it, is this: he came to our store totrade out a due-bill, as I said, and after he had gone, we missed apocket-handkerchief. "

"He or some one else may have taken it by mistake, " interrupted Mrs. Fabens, rocking her chair in agitation. 

"That is very likely, as I told Fairbanks, " said Frisbie. "And it isbest for us to think so. We had better judge ten guilty personsinnocent, than condemn one innocent man. It was a _silk_pocket-handkerchief; and as it lay on the counter just before he left, Fairbanks thought Ludlow must have taken it; and following him over tothe tailor's shop, where he left his bundle, I opened it, and found ahandkerchief, just like ours, wadded up and tucked into one end of thewrapping paper. _Little_ things sometimes indicate more than we wishto believe. But then he looked a little honest, when he came in, andsaid he knew not how on earth it got there. "

"I don't believe he did know, " said Fabens. "How easy it would havebeen for you; or whoever put up the goods, to have put that in bymistake. "

"Just so I told Fairbanks, " said Frisbie; "and it must have got therein some such way. It was crumpled up so, my first thought was that itwas tucked in by stealth. I inquired of our new customer, CaptainTroffater--I believe they call him Captain, I very confidentially namedthe circumstance to him, and he said it _might_ be a mistake of ours;but he did not know about it, and it was best for merchants to keep asharp lookout, when they did not know who was in their store. Butthere, as--"

"I will not believe George stole it, " interrupted Fabens earnestly. "He is incapable of such an act; and it is much more reasonable tobelieve it was done up by mistake. "

"I have brought home things several times in that way, and nobodysuspected _I_ meant to steal, " said Mrs. Fabens. "The clerks confessedtheir hurry, and their liability to make mistakes, when I returnedthem. "

"We do make such mistakes too often, as I told Fairbanks; and it mustbe he took it in that way, " concluded Frisbie. "At any rate, I hadrather believe so, and have you _all_ believe so, than believe himguilty. I am sure I would not harm the fellow; and I would not weakenyour confidence in him. I am always so grieved myself to know that aperson is not as good as I believed him to be, I would not attempt toconvince any one of confidence misplaced for the world--unless I hadthe weightiest reason. Yet, I confess it grieves me still more to seeconfiding people deceived, they feel so bad after it. "

Upon this, Frisbie rose and repeated his invitation to Fabens, to goover and see them, saying, as he left the door, that "he hopedFairbanks would not be an old bachelor always, but get him a good wife, and have a home, and live like somebody, that ladies and gentlemenmight visit him. But what do you think he says, when I jog him on thesubject? That there is only one girl in Summerfield he could like wellenough to marry, and I point in a certain direction, and tell him I canguess who he means!

"Fairbanks is getting notional like all old bachelors. His mothertaught him some of it. She thought so much of him when she kept housefor him on the Hudson, she dared not let him stay away from home overnight, for fear he would have the croup. 

"He grows more and more particular in his choice of friends, and sets ahigher and higher mark for the young lady of his choice. I tell him heis too particular. But he must have his notions; and I will say thisfor Fairbanks, whoever gets him, will get a prize worth setting her capfor. His mother always said, if he hadn't a happy and loving home, itwouldn't be his fault. "

Frisbie left, and while Fanny's quince-blossom blushes all rallied toher cheeks and mounted to her forehead at the allusion in his lastwords, they all wondered why any one could suspect George Ludlow ofcrime, on evidence so trivial; and they thought none the less of him, or the merchant, or the clerk. 

In the course of a few weeks, Fairbanks and Frisbie came again, andFairbanks borrowed a hundred dollars, spent a pleasant evening, andevinced a still warmer regard for Fanny Fabens. A week before themoney was to be paid, he returned and said, he had it all with him, andif the Squire wished to make immediate use of it he would insist onpaying it over; at the same time intimating the great obligation itwould confer on him to permit him the use of it a few weeks longer;getting an extension of time till he could return from New York, andobtaining the loan of Fabens' note, payable to his order at the bank, for a hundred and fifty dollars. 

Before the time of extension expired, the borrowed money was paid, withinterest urged, and a few handsome presents to Fanny and Mrs. Fabens, for the accommodation. And on being well assured that the note at thebank had been taken up, and the signature cancelled, Fabens loaned himanother note for two hundred and fifty dollars. 

In two months more, other elegant presents were made to Fanny and Mrs. Fabens, and Fairbanks and Frisbie, together, as a token of theirparticular and high esteem, presented Fabens a superb cane, of a limbfrom the Liberty Tree, as they said, then waving on Boston Common;richly mounted with silver, bearing his name, and the names of thegenerous donors, on a silver eagle, set in the ivory head; withappropriate inscriptions, and all polished like the smoothest glass. 

"This gift, " said Squire Fabens, so touched with emotion, he falteredand hemmed in his speech, "this gift kindles a warm spot under my vesthere, " laying his hand on his heart. "A gift always affects me, if itis ever so small. And this, gentlemen, is _really_ a handsome gift_indeed_. I have no words to express my thanks. "

"Thanks would only burden us the more, as we have been the mostobliged, " said Fairbanks, with his blandest bow, and meekest smile; andother kind words were spoken, and confident assurances repeated; andanother note obtained for three hundred dollars. During thatdelightful visit, in words employed with the most winning selection, Fairbanks and Frisbie said so much to the Squire about his creditabroad, about the favorable development of his head for a mercantilelife, about the advantages which he knew merchants always had overfarmers, about the pleasures of store-keeping, the opportunity ofvisiting New York frequently, and making honorable acquaintances thereand elsewhere, and several other desirable objects, that when alone inthe field, they proposed to him to come with them into a grandcopartnership of the name of "Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens, " andassume all the business of Summerfield; he was actually taken withagreeable surprise, his head growing giddy, as by some irresistiblecharm; and he looked upon the farmer's life and labor, as the life andlabor of a drudge; glanced forth upon visions of opulence, honor andease; and hoped to put away, without too much sacrifice, his stonyacres, and enter upon that high and tempting course. 

His mind wandered and returned, as between sleeping and waking. Heremembered, at last, what Julia would be likely to say, if informedimmediately, and in full, of the scheme. He remembered how diligentlyshe had wrought, how prudently managed, to help him to his handsomeproperty. He knew with what affection she regarded that home and farm, and every fruit-tree, and shade-tree and sugar-maple; every flower-bed, and herb-bank, and rose-tree and vine; every comfort and conveniencearound them; and how it might wring her heart, and how Fanny might weepto see the old homestead go to another; and he concluded, it was beston the whole, to take time for reflection, and if at last he determinedto sell, and become a merchant, he would let his family know but littleof his plan at a time, and prepare them gradually, as Fairbanksconsiderately advised, to incline to his will, and consent to try thechange. 

Before the end of another week, and before Fabens had decided on theirproposition, Frisbie came again for the loan of another note, of threehundred dollars, and left, saying, "they were perfectly willing heshould take his own time, to make up his mind about coming into the newfirm; that this note should be looked after and paid as promptly as allthe others had been, and he would find that John Fairbanks as clever afellow as ever dealt with him. "

XXIV. 

A WEEK OF CASTLE BUILDING. 

The last assurance of Frisbie was indeed very kind, but unnecessary;for Squire Fabens was well convinced before the last visit, thatFairbanks was all he had been represented to be; and that convictionrose from a simple and cool opinion to a warm and loving faith, when heconsidered all the gifts they gave; the generous solicitations, whichmerchants but seldom extended to farmers; and the liberty they allowedhim, to take his own time and look the matter carefully over. 

It was a mean suspicion, he thought, which could longer fear deception. Had it been their design to deceive, why all that frankness; that fairand candid proposing; that trusting to his own mind to weigh, and hisown time to return an answer? Villains would have been more exactingin their terms, and briefer in their plans and proposals. Villainswould have talked in a lower tone, attempted to hurry him toagreements, and hastened the signing and sealing. With thosegentlemen, all was generous, candid, moderate, indulgent; and even ifhe concluded not to accept their magnanimous offer, he should alwaysremember the kindness in which it was made. 

A whole week was before him; yes, two or three weeks if he wanted it, to weigh the proposal and return an answer. He gave his whole mind toit, and a week was found sufficient for the deliberation. During thatweek he seemed to live many years of a life, wide and wonderful;stirring and instinct with actions, incidents and scenes; a life andpossessions, progressive as the rise of day, and rapid as the bloom ofspringtime. It was a week of Castle Building. The days of the weekintroduced a succession of views that swept in action and speech beforehim like the scenes of a thrilling drama. 

Scene first was opened. It pleased his eyes, and sent blissfulsensations running around his heart. It showed him the store of thecompany, enlarged and renovated, with a capacious counting-room, and apleasant door in the rear, beneath a piazza opening to the cool air andplacid smile of the sweet Cayuga, as it slept or stirred, embosomedamong the lovely hills. 

In that store, he saw himself, now moving in the press of business; nowexamining their posted legers; and now seated in the comfortablecounting-room, counselling on their growing concerns, or conversingwith an old friend, or neighbor, as the smooth pine whittlings rolledlike ribbons from his hand; and now on the back piazza, enjoying theair and prospect. 

It was a happy change. It was all shaded sweetly from the intolerablesun; it was more stirring than farm work; it was more gentle, andsuited to his years. It was cleanly; and his cool linen wristbandswould keep all the week as snowy white as Julia had done them; whileshe would have lighter washings, and more leisure time. 

It was a profitable change. Money was made faster there, Not that hissoul was on fire with a passion for money; he loved money less thanmost of his neighbors; he was free and manly with his money as youwould not find ten in a thousand. Still, honest gains were pleasant tohim; the amount he had accumulated somehow prompted a desire for more;and in a store he could gain faster, and in larger amounts, and perhapsretire in a few years, from all business, more independent than now, enjoy the satisfaction of giving more gracious charities, anddispensing sweeter reliefs; and settling a handsomer sum on Fanny whenshe married, and again when he died. 

It was an honorable change. Say what they would, farmers looked up tomerchants, and considered their own avocation inferior. Many farmershonored merchants more than those of their own sphere, and would beglad to be merchants themselves. As he moved about that store, orwhittled in that counting-room, or sat on that back piazza, and took ofthe cool summer breeze, fresh kisses of beauty borne up from thelaughing lake, he would still be called Squire Fabens, but it wouldcome with more emphasis and meaning than now, while delving in thevulgar soil. 

Scene second was opened. The store was the same, but the businessextended, calling another clerk to the counter; the seats were there, and the pleasant views around; the company sulky, polished like arazor, danced on its light elliptics, behind a proud pawing horse atthe post; and the sun literally revelled in the yellow gold that flamedon the sanded sign over the door. 

His eyes were still more pleased, and there flocked around his heartsensations of more exalted bliss. The chances of his fortune were verylarge, and sure; but he would feel rich on a quarter of what would berequired in older sections, and in cities. If he could have tenthousand dollars, and a clear conscience and good name left, he wouldfeel richer than many with a million. He would be rich enough, andthank no man for more. No man ought to accumulate more. With thatfortune he could settle down, in the pleasantest home. 

That home rose before him in the scene. It stood fronting the villagegreen. It supported its piazza and Paris green blinds, and was whiteand modest in all appearance. It was a two-story house of course, fora story and a half would look too much like a squatter's home, in avillage; yet it was not over large. A large house would give Mrs. Fabens too much care and work, and she would not have a servant to waiton her. The house was just suited to his family. It was furnishedneatly but prudently; having a sofa indeed, and one large mirror; butbrick fireplaces, frugal lamps, a plain carpet in the parlor, and maplechairs with simple flag-seats. 

In that home, how much comfort he could take when his friends gave himcalls; when Fanny and her children came home on a visit, and when somepoor weary mendicant entered for shelter, alms and rest! To that homehe could retire in a few years, free from the cares of business, anxious for nothing, but the good of his neighbors, still young in hisheart, and fresh in all his feelings to enjoy life's blessing and peace. 

Scene third was opened. The store remained, with an increase ofbusiness, and an enlargement of the building. He still continued inbusiness; but it was from choice, and not necessity; for all of his tenthousand was made; and it was made so easily, and in so much less timethan he anticipated, and so pleasantly withal, he might just as wellkeep on to twenty thousand; if a clear conscience might remain, and hemight be a little more happy. 

Mrs. Fabens could be lady of a handsomer home, and perhaps persuaded tokeep a servant or two, and take some comfort in her old age. His firstobject should be to force happiness on her; for a better wife neverblest a devoted husband. Mrs. Fabens should be urged to extend thesphere of her enjoyments, and Fanny should be well provided for. Hewould try for twenty thousand. Then a larger house could be built, anda good horse and carriage attend at the door. 

That sum was accumulated, and that home and its opulent comforts andequipage rose in the scene. He was glad he possessed it. The poorestof his friends, the most humble of his fellows were welcome as everthere, and he was happier, showing how a rich man could unbend, and howmuch more was in his power to bless them. 

Now he could travel some. Neither he nor his family has seen anythingof the world at all, and he would take them around to see it. Theyshould go to Saratoga a week, thence to Albany, thence to New York, andPhiladelphia. Perhaps they would go through the country in their ownprivate carriage, taking all the comfort of the journey. It would begrand to visit Niagara, and bring home in their souls the sublimity ofthe falls. May be they would go to Boston, and set their feet onBunker-hill, where his father fought in the Revolution; and if heshould ever be honored with a seat in the Legislature, or in Congress, he would take his family with him, for he could do it as well as not. 

Scene fourth was opened, and that was pleasanter than all the rest. But he found that even twenty thousand would not be sufficient toaccomplish all his plans. Yet, he was in no dilemma. Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens, had grown up into a mammoth business, and it wouldbe as easy to make his thirty thousand, as to turn his hand over. Makeit honestly too: and the money was all made, and he said now he hadenough in all conscience, for one man to possess. Now his comfortwould be complete. 

He wondered why he should have taken it into his head to build hishouse in the village, where he could not turn himself without knockinghis elbows, and where he could get no good views of nature, and hardlyland enough for a patch of green grass to spread-out washings on. 

Judge Garlock had a country-seat overlooking the Cayuga, scarcely abow-shot from the pebbly shore, and he must have one too. He sells hisvillage home, purchases ten acres on a gentle and beautiful slope, builds him a splendid house, with polished marble mantels, withcornices, centre-pieces, and folding-doors, furnished in several roomswith mahogany chairs and sofas, with ottomans and divans; the largeparlor graced with a fine piano, for Fanny and her sweet daughters, when they shall come home; and his lovely acres are made more lovely bya profusion of trees, circles and lines of white pebble walk, pink-bedsand tulips; and flourish not long without a deer-park and duck-pond, assymbols of ancient times. 

And how his heart leaps with delight as he beholds that home incontrast with the old ones, and imagines the comfort they will findthere. Not the wet grass, or slumping soil of a farm, but the whitepebble path of a villa will he now tread, as he goes forth to enjoy themorning and the night. And while he is out, if he chooses not to sitdown in his summer-house, and read, or look over his last paper, underone of his maples, and has nothing else to busy his thoughts, and noone to share his company, he can fling corn to his ducks in the pool, and feed his gentle deer, delighting to see them enjoy his care. 

Who has not a right to build as handsome a house as money will buy? Hecannot withdraw his eyes from the charming scene! He retires andreturns again and again, to linger and look upon it. The clear andcool Cayuga shines beyond, as if hung for a mirror to reflect it; andhe sees the whole magnificent estate, the house and its terraces, thegrounds and trees, the walks and waters, the ducks and deers; even thetulips and pinks, as plainly in its placid splendor, as you can see thesun in the silver sky. 

But he must turn, at least to breathe, for the fifth scene opens. Still he remains a member of the firm of Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens. Still at times he is seen in the store, waiting on customers, when theothers are absent, sitting now and then in the counting-room to counselor converse, or enjoying a cool hour on the back piazza. Still he isvery happy, yet not quite satisfied. 

He has run upon the idea that a high-school is wanted in Summerfield, and that he cannot more nobly enhance his happiness than byestablishing a school of the first class, in a building erected for thepurpose, endowing it amply, and making a present of it to the town. Ten thousand dollars more could easily be made, and it would enable himto do that very handsome thing for Summerfield. 

In comes the money without effort, and without delay; the school isestablished on a pleasant eminence, in full view of his mansion, and itmakes a fine ornament to the place; while he finds it a pleasant sightindeed, to see talented young men, and accomplished young women, goingforth from Fabens' Academy, to improve society, and ennoble their ownlife with learning, and graceful manners and ways. 

And while revelling in this new source of joy, his fortune continues togrow, and the sixth scene opens. It will be thought a novel enterprisein that community, and he is prepared for it, and even for a few sneersand witticisms; but these will not move him at all, and he resolves tobuild a meeting-house, and call a pastor, and settle a salary upon him. He has always supported Elder Darling's meeting--the Elder is anexcellent man, and he will continue to support him; but he is notperfectly suited with the Elder's preaching; it wants heartier life, and a more evangelical power and effect; and he knows of many whohunger for a gospel of larger faith and charity; which shall feed andrefresh the people, and raise their aims and views; which shallidentify religion more with a pure and benevolent character; whichshall not be sectarian; and, free from cant and vain pretension, shallenter into every-day life, and make smiles its hymns, and deeds of goodits prayers. Such a minister can be procured, such a churchestablished. He can establish it himself, and not mind the cost. Hewill do it, and ask no man's assistance. Up goes a beautiful church asthere is in all the country, and on comes the eloquent preacher; andfull meetings, and joyful seasons follow. If ever he was a man ofperfect happiness, it is now. 

And what can prevent the continuance of his bliss? The evangelicalgospel sounds sweeter than ever in his ears. New interpretations ofScripture enlighten him, and higher views of God and heaven open likeelysium around. And can anything, out of heaven, flood his heart witha fuller satisfaction, than on a still, bright, silent Sunday, such asGod gives in holiest beauty only to the country, to ride in hiscarriage to that lovely church, which nestles like a white dove inamong the hills, and hear preaching that will fatten his soul withcelestial manna-dew, exchange warm greetings with hundreds who thankhim for the privilege they enjoy at his hand, and ride home, rejoicingall the way, to be the agent by which a door is opened for light andtruth in a new region?

His happiness continues to flow. All his reasonable expectations arefulfilled, and he seems to live longer in a single day, on a singleSunday now, than he once did in a twelvemonth; it makes him so happy toknow he has made many others happy. But with the increase of fortune, comes the increase of desire, and he finds another thing lacking; a newproject leaps into his mind, and the last scene opens. 

There are a great many poor people in Summerfield. Several causes havecombined to make them poor. Most of them are very worthy, and haveinteresting children. All of them are God's sons and daughters, andshould not pine in want and grief amid so much wealth and country. Ifa Poor Man's Home were established on a large and productive farm, andput under judicious management, how much suffering might be alleviated!How many aged heads lie down on soft pillows of peace! How many agedhearts, unburdened of grief, and made to run over with flowing tears ofgratitude! How many of the disabled and unfortunate, placed beyondreach of want and misery! How many bright children snatched from theerrors and temptations that lurk in the way of poverty, and clothed andeducated in virtues and lessons, that would place them on a footingwith rich men's children, and lead them to lives of usefulness andhonor! How many orphans provided for, and how many widows made to singin their hearts for joy!

He has means sufficient to do most of the building himself, and endowthe Home; and with a little help from others, the institution iscompleted; and he sees bright glancing wings of joy hovering at doorswhere grief has been a constant guest; Comfort wiping tears from eyeslong accustomed to weep; and Virtue and Knowledge leading largeprocessions of rescued children on their heavenward way. He is richand happy as he can hope or desire to be on earth, and he lies down tosweet dreams on the last night of his Week of Castle Building, and withthose dreams the visions of affluence close. 

XXV. 

A WEEK OF REALITY. 

During that memorable week, while those splendid scenes of fortunepassed his view as on a rolling panorama, there were moments whenFabens felt that the scheme was too magnificent to contemplate alone, and Mrs. Fabens and Fanny ought at once to be admitted to the blissfulsecret, and participate his joy. Then again, he happened to rememberJulia's love for the old home, and her questioning, slow-footedcaution, and he refrained from a disclosure. 

But he could not refrain from sounding her mind a little, as hereturned from the field for his meals, to ascertain if his own dreamscould possibly be too extravagant, and if there were any hope of aconsent from her, provided in the end he should have an earnest desireto accept the tempting offer. He asked her several questions ofconsiderable meaning to himself, which she answered, with littlesuspicion of the thoughts that lay concealed beneath the surface of thewords. 

"Our fields never looked more beautiful to me, not even in June, thanthey have for a few days now of this lovely weather, " said Mrs. Fabens, gazing from her favorite window upon the rich landscape in view, on thefirst day of the Week of Reality. 

"We are somewhat retired, and cannot see a great distance north or eastfrom the house, but what we can see is so bound up with all my dearestfeelings and pleasantest thoughts, I would not change it away for morepretending views from new situations. I love to look at our east woodsvery well; and the hill pasture; and the orchard in blossom is acharming sight, and more charming still when tossing the yellow pippinsto the sun, as in this pleasant breeze. "

"You think the old farm is pretty near the centre of the world, Isuppose, " said Fabens. 

"It holds my heart as if balanced on the world's centre, " replied Mrs. Fabens. 

"And nothing would tempt you to leave it? not even a larger house, ornearer sights of lovely water, or pleasanter walks?"

"No, indeed!"

"But, you always thought Judge Garlock's place very handsome. "

"O, it is handsome to look at as you pass; it is nearer the lake thanours; and no doubt it is the dearest spot on earth to Mrs. Garlock, shehas lived there so long; but I would not leave this place for that. "

"But you forget her splendid house, her white pebble walks, her groundslooking like an Eden; and--"

"No doubt they are very dear to her, but I would not exchange houses, or grounds, or gardens, or sights with her. "

"Not if we had more money, to live as they do!"

"No! not for a house full of silver dollars. "

"Not to have such a splendid view from your door and windows of thesilver-breasted lake, and the grand old hills beyond?"

"Hardly, if the river Jordan rolled there, and Canaan bloomed opposite;though I always thought that would be the loveliest sight on earth. But what are you talking about, Matthew? do we not see the lake fromour house, and the hills, too, beyond?"

"Only from a distance. "

"'Distance lends enchantment to the view, ' as Fanny's poet sings. "

"Only in little patches; and they are dull, and without interest, unless the sun happens to shine. But would you not like to live thereif I was a merchant or lawyer; and had given a school, a church, andhospital to the town, and grand folks were flocking from all quartersto visit us?"

"No, I would not, as true as I live and breathe; not if you were KingGeorge, and kings and queens were flocking to see you. Nothing butHeaven would tempt me to change away the old home; we have taken somuch comfort here. It seems a part and parcel of myself. I would assoon think of changing you off for Merchant Fairbanks, because he maybe called a little handsomer, and goes dressed up like a lord every dayabout his dainty store. I would as soon think of selling Fanny, andbuying Desdemona Faddle to fill Fanny's place, just because she has amess of dangling curls, and paints her face, and wears more rings andflounces. "

"How you do talk! That would be quite a different thing; wouldn't it, Fanny?"

"No, father, I think mother is right. I'm sure I never can loveanother home as I love this. I should feel dreadfully to hear you talkof selling. I never could love another home. "

"Not if you had George there, to increase your happiness?"

"Another home to call father's and mother's I mean; where I couldreturn and enjoy all the old things that are grown so fast to my heart. But why do you talk so, father?"

"That I was going to ask. You have no intention of leaving here, Ihope, and why _do_ you talk so? You act wild. "

"You began the talk, Julia, and I was seeing to what a stretch youwould carry your feelings. But here, it is time I was out in the fieldat the plough again, and I will leave you now, to think it all over, and see if there is nothing on earth that would tempt you to sell theold home. "

A drop of cold water, or the slightest shake will interrupt thereallest seeming dream; and half of this conversation would havebrought Fabens out of what but a day before seemed a splendid reality. He went to his plough in the light of his awakened senses, and walkedall the way on the actual, sober ground. His gorgeous air castlesvanished like a train of fleeting clouds. A walk in the dirty furrowseemed long before night, a very pleasant and refreshing pastime; andhe shuddered with shame more than once to think he had been soextravagant in many of the thoughts, that were set afloat by themerchant's offer. He came to himself that afternoon; and sitting downto tea, with a glance first at the north meadow and the white ashshade-trees blooming there; then at the east woods and orchard; then atthe blue fringes of the mountains lifted sublimely before him in thesouth; then at the crystal Cayuga in the west and the green hillssleeping beyond; he exclaimed, "I must agree with you, Julia; we haveviews from our doors and windows as handsome as any I know of, and theold farm still looks very good to me. "

During that afternoon, however, Mrs. Fabens had been thinking ofFairbanks and Frisbie, and it occurred to her that they might have saidsomething to her husband about selling his farm; and from that, hermind returned to the borrowed notes. It had been her expressed desirethat he would not contract a liability for any one, of more than fiftydollars, without security; and now she felt painfully curious to know, if the former notes loaned had been all taken up, why they had not beenbrought to her husband, that he might positively know that hisliability had ceased. But Fabens was so magnanimous he had thought itunmanly to ask security of the merchant, or distrust the assurances ofmen who had dealt so handsomely as they. 

She wondered she had not remembered to inquire about the old notesbefore, and was troubled till she could ask the question. At night sheintroduced the subject. "It may be all right, " said she, "butsomething keeps whispering to me, that trouble awaits us. We have acomfortable property, as much as anybody ought to desire I know, but wehave all worked hard and honestly to get it, and it would be hard to bedefrauded of a hundred dollars. I would rather give all we can spareto the poor and needy, than to be defrauded of it. "

"I confess to you, mother, what till this week I never felt, " saidFanny with emotion; "I begin to lose confidence. I fear father isdeceived. I don't like their coming so often. I don't like the waythey make so many presents. I don't like their asking for so manynotes, and I have heard too much of what begins to sound like flattery. Oh, I hope father will not have trouble!"

"_I_ hope too, that I shall not have trouble, " said Fabens with risingagitation; "but you seem to wake me out of a singular dream. What_have_ I been doing? Why have I given them power so to deceive anddefraud me, if they chance to have the wicked will? I must go and seeif all is well. I fear, I fear they deceived me! What have I done?"

Early the next morning Fabens set off to see Fairbanks. He designedfirst to inquire if Fairbanks had preserved, and could produce the oldnotes represented as paid, and next ascertain whether the last one lefthim liable; and in his anxiety, and the wakefulness of his reason andjudgment, he gave no thought to the idea of quitting his fine old farmfor a merchant's life, except to wonder how such an idea had beenpermitted to enter his head. A cool hour's ride brought him to thevillage where Fairbanks traded, and his fears were in no wise relieved, by finding the store still closed, and failing to obtain an answer tohis rap and call. 

He stepped over to the tailor's shop across the way, and there he wasinformed that the store was closed by a sheriff the day before, on anold judgment from New York, and there were not goods enough on hand tocancel the liability. That the neighborhood was all in excitement, forastonishing things had come to light. That Fairbanks had obtainedmoney at the banks in considerable amounts on the endorsements ofseveral citizens; and still was owing for two or three crops of wheatand other produce; besides leaving a large board bill unsettled; horsehire, cigar and liquor bills, and hired help unpaid; and with Frisbiehad left the town, no doubt, never to return!

"What _shall_ I do?--Can it be possible?--Can I believe it? You amazeme! How they did deceive me!" were the answers of Fabens to eachunwelcome item of this news. 

"Then they run away in your debt, too, did they, Square?" asked thetailor, as he finished the hurried tale of recent disclosures. "Ifhe's in debt to you, you've a plenty of company. A good many were tookin by the rascals. I begun to smell the rat after it was too late. Each of 'em owes me now for a suit of Sunday clothes. When I setpressing 'em off at midnight, I little thought they would be run-awaysuits, and I was working so hard for nothing. But I must pocket theloss, I suppose, and comfort me, remembering this is the first time arascal has bit me. How much did they owe you, Square, considerable?"

"I know not as I can say positively, that they owe me anything, " saidFabens, as soon as he could crowd in a word of reply to the talkativetailor's question; "but it must be, I shall lose by them. I loaned mynote to Fairbanks, a few weeks agony [Transcriber's note: ago, agone?]--my note at the bank for three hundred dollars. I expect Ishall have that to pay, and I know not how much more. "

"Why, of all things! they've bit you hard, you may depend!" exclaimedthe astonished tailor. 

"Is it possible that they are such deceivers?" asked Fabens, in anagony of grief. 

"They are dreadful creatures; there's no mistake about that, I guess, "said the tailor. 

"But they always looked honest and friendly, " said Fabens. 

"And so can old Bill Shazzar, and old Bill Zebub, look honest andfriendly too, when they want to come it on a fellow, " said the tailor. 

"Who next can we trust?" exclaimed Fabens, wounded as deeply by thedeception as by the loss. "Where was my reason? Where were my sensesall this while? Why didn't I take my wife's advice, when she gave itwith tears in her eyes? I dread to go to the bank and see how mattersare. "

XXVI. 

ANOTHER WEEK OF REALITY. 

Before Fabens left town for Auburn, to inquire at the bank, concerninghis paper, an officer of the bank met him, having been to his house, and followed him here, and he disclosed the fact that Fabens was liablefor a thousand dollars, not one of the old notes having been paid. "Myworst fears are realized!" cried Fabens, the cold sweat starting out inbeads on his forehead. 

"Why was I so heedless? And is this all right, sir? Could you nothave warned me of my danger before it went so far? You must have knownthat something was going wrong in that fellow's affairs; and why was Ikept in the dark to this hour?"

He was answered that the villains had managed so adroitly, they did notsuspect deception, till too late. "But we are not at all alarmed, Squire Fabens, concerning the amount for which you are liable to us, "said the gentleman. "We _know_ you are good and honest. We will giveyou all reasonable time to cancel the notes. I regret sincerely, thatyou have met such a loss, Squire Fabens. But there, a farmer shouldnever be liable for a trader. Let farmers endorse each other if theywill; they know each other's risks and resources. But they know littleof the risks and insecurities of trade, and less of the chances ofdeception connected with it, and they should never endorse for traders, or loan their notes. Hundreds of fine farms go in this way to payother people's debts. "

"But must my farm go to pay those notes?" asked Fabens, turning stillwhiter in the face, and sweating almost blood. "_My_ farm, that I haveworked so hard for? my comfortable home? Must it go, and leave usdestitute now as old age comes in sight? It is hard to think of thesethings. And what will my poor wife say? and how can she endure thistrouble? I will pay the notes, if it takes all I have, and the coatfrom my back, in the bargain; but I beg you don't sue me. I never wassued in my life. Don't injure my character, or make me unnecessarycost. "

Everything proved just as they informed him, and he went homeheavy-hearted, to relate what he had heard. Mrs. Fabens and Fanny weredeeply grieved by the thought, that he stood so largely liable onFairbanks' account. But they bore the shock with a composure, whichcomforted Fabens greatly; and such hopefulness had ever been theblessing of them all, before another week, they had nearly recoveredfrom the first agitation, and begun to contrive how they should manageto make the best of the misfortune. 

It was nothing against their firm religious faith in overruling Good, nor against their fortitude, or self-reliance, to say that at firstthey yielded to agitations and griefs. It would have been unnatural inthem not to be moved. For the present it was a calamity which theymust suffer. Their old farm was dear to them, every acre of it. Toits woods and waters; to its fine pastures and green meadows; itsgenerous fruit-trees and grateful shade-trees, they were tenderlyattached, looking upon them with family affection; and how could anitem of that sweet home be spared? They doubted not but God wouldcontrol the event for good; but it could not displease him to beholdthis feeling in his children. How could they adjust their faith to theevent and be resigned so suddenly? It was hard to bear the stroke. Itcut to the tender quick, and they shuddered and wept. It was hard tothink the unworthy should be agents, to bring the disguised blessingwhich would follow such a woe. Hard to be deceived by those in whom somany confided with such pure and magnanimous trust. 

But they were not immoderate in their grief. The deception might havebeen deeper, and the loss more alarming and great. And then what wastheir grief at that hour, compared with the misery that must gnaw atthe hearts of the deceivers, as inseparable from their guilt. Whatgift in the wide world would tempt them to exchange places with thewretched creatures? What a thorny road of perdition must their way oflife be! How they must whiten and gasp, and what poignant pangs mustthrill them through and through when they remembered their villainousdeeds!

And then they remembered how thankful they should be, that the designsof the criminals on Fanny had failed even of their first success, whilethey wept to hear of the shame in which more than one poor victim hadbeen left; that they lost no confidence in George Ludlow; and none oftheir family had been made less virtuous by them. 

Fabens remembered his schemes of benevolence, and his project of a newchurch and minister, without regret; but he crimsoned with blushingshame, as he confessed the foolish idea to which they forced him tolisten, in regard to selling the old homestead and becoming a merchant. "Just as though it could be possible for us to be as happy as we are, in another sphere of life!" said he. "What in the world do I want tomake me happy and respectable, except more faith and goodness, and themeans to confer more good, that I did not possess before the scoundrelscame? I wonder that Matthew Fabens allowed them to make him such asilly fool!" But it was long before he told them the dreams heindulged in his Week of Castle Building. 

They counselled together: with returning resignation and confidence, they counselled. 

"A thousand dollars!--a _thousand_!" said Fabens, with a long-drawnsigh. "That is a large debt for me to owe--a large one! I must seehow I can settle it. I cannot bear to be in debt, even on another'saccount. I must not sit down and give up. I cannot rest very welltill I do something to square it. He said they wouldn't sue me. Inever was sued, and I could not bear to be. But I have only about ahundred dollars, and where can I raise the rest? The debt is a roundthousand in all. "

"I do not know. It really looks dark before us after all, " said Mrs. Fabens. "A thousand dollars does not grow on every bush. I see noway, but a slice of the farm must go, and a pretty large slice too; andthat will be very hard. How much is the whole farm worth?"

"It ought to fetch six thousand, five hundred, " said Fabens. "Sixthousand I've been offered for it, time and again. "

"I cannot bear to part with an inch of the farm--it is so dear to us, "said Mrs. Fabens. 

"How can we part with a rood or a tree, " asked Fanny, with a sigh. "Every tree seems one of the family, and every rood has transferred apicture of its beauty to our hearts. "

"But something must be done to wipe off the thousand dollars. Thehundred on hand will help; and where shall I raise the rest? They maysue me, and sacrifice double the amount, if they have to wait toolong, " said Fabens. 

"O well, we shall have enough left after paying the thousand, " saidMrs. Fabens. "Any one will loan you nine hundred, and take a mortgage. Then we should not have to sell a single rood. We could all turn to, and raise it off from the farm in three or four years. "

"I cannot bear to mortgage the farm, " said Fabens. "I should then feelin debt. I hate debts as I do sin and Satan. Hadn't we better selloff a little strip joining Nimblet's, and stand free and clear oncemore? It is handsome land, I know; my heart leans to it warmly, for Ihave labored along there a good many pleasant days. But hadn't webetter let the pretty piece go? He has been at me these three years tosell it; and he can pay for it all down. Wouldn't the farm be largeenough without that strip?"

"That may be best, " said Mrs. Fabens. "I dislike debts and mortgagesas much as you. But the farm is so handsome with that green border, and its lovely shade-trees!"

"That is the most beautiful fringe of fields on the farm, " said Fanny. "The trees are the finest;--think of those charming chestnuts, and howtheir white blossoms sweeten the air in July! And the handsomestwalnuts and maples wave along there. And there is my lovely linden, and mother's balm of Gilead. And how level the ground is; and how thebluebirds and robins love to sing there!--But perhaps it may be best tolet it go, and be out of debt. We shall all feel so much better. Youcannot sell the loveliness of those fields, and he could no more buy itthan buy the songs of the birds, or the light of the blue skies. Thehandsome prospect, the verdure, light, and song, are the property ofall who have eyes to see and hearts to enjoy them; and Mr. Nimblet willtake pains, I know, to make the fields more lovely, if he can. "

"Then I may say to Mr. Nimblet, he can have the north fields?" askedFabens. 

"O, wait a little while, " said Fanny, "and see if we cannot keep them. It looks so beautiful in the middle field in the spring, when thedandelions blow; and the strawberries blossom; and the butter-cups wavein the wind; and the bobolinks light on the red clover and sing;--therewould be more comfort in knowing it was all ours as we enjoyed thesight!"

"But we cannot have everything, Fanny, as we wish in this world, " saidMrs. Fabens. "Let it go. I am willing, if you think best. As Fannysays, the landscape will be ours as much as ever. And after all, howmuch better off are we without that strip of land than many of ourneighbors! Think of the poor laborers and mechanics that Fairbanksowes for work! How much more ought we to think of their loss than ourown!"

"Yes, but, how much good we could have done with that thousanddollars, " said Fabens; "giving some of it to the poor, and lending therest to worthy young men who are struggling against hope to getsomething, and would be set on their feet by a little lift. But it isof no use to cry for spilt milk. "

"And what is this trouble, compared with the loss of poor littleClinton, and our grief for him?" asked Mrs. Fabens. 

"Dear me, --I would give the beauty of the world to see my brotherClinton!" cried Fanny, her blue eyes sparkling with tears. "I cannotremember seeing him; but how could I help loving him when you have saidso much about him, and wept so many sad hours for his loss? O whatwould we not give to see Clinton? And how foolish it will be to mournfor a small deception and a thousand dollars! _Don't_ let us mourn anymore for that!"

"Clinton!" said Fabens, kindling to a glow, and rising and pacing theroom. "Give all the world to see Clinton? I think we would, and wewould be rich and happy, if Clinton were alive and here, though we werewithout money and handsome fields, and had no more than a bark shantyto shelter our heads. "

"Indeed we would!" added Mrs. Fabens, rocking more earnestly in herchair. "And let us pay up the debt, sell the land and pay it, andthank the Lord that he has been so good to us, and taught us how tobear our troubles. "

George Ludlow was present to sympathize and counsel, and he said "Letthe land go;" and Fanny repeated, "Let it go; we have all its beautypictured on our souls, and will possess it with our estate;" and beforethe week was over, Mr. Nimblet had purchased the row of fields on thenorth side of the farm, and the debt was paid, and happiness became, for that misfortune, no stranger to the household. 

XXVII. 

SUNNY SKIES. 

Time and reflection, mutual sympathy, and a happy knack of alwayshoping for the best, completed their resignation, and prosperity andpeace once more attended their efforts and desires. The farm was foundquite ample in what was left, to employ them all, and satisfy theirhearts. In fact there was more land left than Fabens could managewithout much assistance, and more than a supply of all that heart couldwish. 

They seemed to enjoy home and prosperity, and everything around thembetter than before; for the loss and anxiety given them by Fairbanksawakened a new appreciation of all good, and taught them to be morethankful for what they could call their own. They also learned how toexercise a will that conquered all misfortune, and rested in a faiththat overcame the world. As they looked back to early life, andcounted all the sorrows they had seen, though some had been heavy ashumanity can bear, they could not select one and say, it had not seemedto soften their hearts, and open to their minds a sense of the goodnessof God and the mercy of every providence. "I can cry with David, " saidFabens, "it is good for me that I was afflicted, although it isdifficult, at all times to see in what way good out of evil may come. "

After this, George Ludlow was employed to assist in managing the farm, and the progress of time only quickened the increase of their love forhim. He grew manly still more in appearance, though to strangers hewas homely; he grew intelligent still more in mind, and his society inthat home was not its smallest joy. 

And Fanny Fabens had now attained to full maturity, and she presented aperson and a mind that all admired and loved. Her form had a round anderect development; and her step was as light, and her carriage as proudas the colt's that ranged the hills. Her hair was a shaded and glossyflaxen now, and her eyes were a darker blue. Her beauty was unchangingas the Pleiades, in all situations; for whether she hetchelled flax inthe kitchen, or spun wool in the barn; whether peeling apples, orpiecing quilts; whether churning butter or dressing cheese; whethergleaning wheat or picking berries; or dancing at a wedding, or singinghymns at church; she was the same rosy, brisk and brightly smilingcreature; the same full, free and glad-hearted life; giving grace andhonor to labor; light and beauty to nature; joy and virtue toamusements; peace and holiness to worship, and love and happiness tohome. 

One day when Fabens happened to stop at the tailor's, in the village, he thought to inquire into Frisbie's story, concerning thehandkerchief, which he would have them believe George Ludlow hadstolen. The tailor was positive in denying the truth of the wholeaffair. It was false, he said, and much like many other lies they hadtold. 

The next time Fabens saw Troffater, he inquired if Tilly knew any evilof George Ludlow, or if he ever warned Fairbanks and Frisbie againsthim. 

"They never said so much as boo, about 'im to me, nor I to them; that'shonest, " said Troffater. "But I tell you, Fabens, I never thought agreat 'eal o' them scamps. I itched to give you a jog, when they comeso thick around you. You was green as a mess o' cowslops, or you'd aseen what they was arter. I thought you'd git nipt a grain, or my namewasn't Troffater. But I dasn't tell you what I thought on 'em. Youwouldn't a' b'lieved me, I ben such a witch with my word. I spose youknow the fellers have been heern from? They run out of all theycabbaged here perty quick. Frisbie, they say, is jugged up in jail, and there's better men sometimes hung than that Jock Fairbanks. Iguess some o' the gals are kindy sorry they sot their caps for 'em!The Faddle gals, I guess, would give all their old shews, if they'd a'kep away from the whelps. My gals is all in titters about it; and BeckTeezle, says she, 'I wonder, says she, if Des and Luce Faddle, saysshe, will feel above us now?' They couldn't git me to dew their dirtyWork, with all their ile and palaver. I bought a pitchfork on 'em, once in hayin', and got a platter there when Josephyne was married, andI paid 'em tew in mink skins; and that's all I had to dew with 'em. You lost a good 'eal by 'em, didn't you, Square?"

"A thousand dollars, " said Fabens. "It seemed a great sum to lose, atfirst. It _was_ too much for me. But it has been a good lesson to me, in many ways. The lesson perhaps will give me my money's worth. "

"That _is_ a big _sum_ to _luse_, I swanny! I wish I had a jogged yourelbow a grain. I seen threw the cunnin' scamps the fust time. Didn'tyou know, Square, that Fairbanks was gray as a wharf rat, when he lethis hair alone?" said Troffater. 

"No, I did not. _He_ was not gray; his hair was a glossy black, " saidFabens. 

"Ha! ha! ha! you was _greener 'n_ cowslops, or you'd a seen that wasall dye-stuff!" said Troffater. "Why, I seen the gray roots glistenfor half an inch, the fust time I seen 'im. But didn't you know 'im, Square? He come from the Hudson. "

"I never knew him till he came here, " said Fabens. 

"But, you've got a clean conscience, " said Troffater. "If I had that, I wouldn't lay wake o' nights, nor grow hatchet-faced a great 'eal. Isee your cheeks don't fall in, and nobuddy would spose by your looksthat you had a _great_ grist o' trouble. Wish I could look ascheerful, and had a bit o' your pleasant peace o' mind. "

"But you have forgotten one of my questions; I asked if you knew anyill of George Ludlow, " said Fabens. 

"All I know, I can tell perty quick, " said Troffater, and cooked hisquid, and spit through his teeth. "What do you know, Tilly?" askedFabens. 

"I know an awful cuss hangs over the feller, " said Troffater. 

"How you talk! Curse! what do you mean?" asked Fabens, with emotion, and a searching glance of his large and loving eye: "George Ludlowunder a _curse_?"

"Yis, under a cuss, an' may it please your honor, " said Troffater. 

"Who pronounced it?" asked Fabens. 

"Scriptur!" said Troffater, drawing down his monkey brows over hislittle, black-and-blue eyes, and looking wise as a magistrate. "Scriptur pernounced the cuss. "

"The Scripture!" exclaimed Fabens. "The Scripture pronounced a curse!What do you mean? What does the Scripture say to condemn GeorgeLudlow?"

"A good 'eal, I guess, " said Troffater. "The Scripture says--'_Woe_unto him that all men speak well of;' and George Ludlow is the man!"

"O, you will be Tilly Troffater, as long as you live!" said Fabens. "Why can you not be serious once in a while? You are getting to be anold man, and such levity shocks one's reverence for your gray hairs. But if that is all you know, I am sure you never spoke ill of the youngman. "

"Not I, Fabens, not I, " said Troffater, sobering down at this mildrebuke. "He's a likely feller. _He'll_ dew wal enough, I'll warrant. Tell Fan, for me, if she gits George Ludlow, _her_ fortin will be_fixed_. A good many young bucks, that feels above him, might thankthe powers, if they knowed as much as he, and was half as likely. WishI had ollers did as wal as George, and my mind was peaceful as his'n. But I must go hum. I calkilate to start on a journey to-morror, forthe Holland Purchase, and I've a little fixin' to dew. "

So they separated, and Fabens went home, musing in his heart, andinquiring what fresh remorse could have seized on Troffater'sconscience, and what might be the object of his journey. 

Under the joint management of Fabens and George Ludlow, for a period ofgood prices and great prosperity, the farm yielded a return of aportion of the sum lost by Fairbanks, and a year or so was anticipatedas time sufficient to retrieve the entire misfortune, if misfortune itmight really now be called; and place the family and their young friendin very desirable circumstances. The smaller farm yielded an extraincrease for receiving the care and culture formerly bestowed on thefields that were sold; the seasons seemed more genial; the rains moretimely, and the sun more liberal in his bland, warm beams, than foryears gone by. The beneficence of God was pictured out on all theglowing sky; blooming in all the fields and woods, and sung by thebirds and breezes. Lessons of grief, quite as much as those of joy, had taught them to discover the signs of that beneficence; to rejoicein all its light, and repose in its blissful promise. 

Mr. And Mrs. Fabens had arrived at a period of life when old age wasapproaching, yet most tardy in its advances; and their relation asparents was most interesting; and their convictions and sentiments, astrusting Christians, gave daily refreshment to their souls. 

As one good consequence of the late trial, our excellent farmerconsidered his cure of a love of praise, which had grown insensiblyupon him, and commenced already to make him unhappy, by warping hisindependence, and making him almost a slave to the vain opinions ofmen. As another effect in which he discovered a blessing, it weakenedhis worldly cares, and taught him to set his affections on things above. 

There was a time of general happiness in Summerfield. Some of the oldpeople had passed away; among whom Mr. Flaxman and old Mr. And Mrs. Waldron were much lamented. Many worthy sons were left behind; andseveral who had been prodigals were now reformed, to render the oldneighborhood pleasant and happy. 

Mr. And Mrs. Wilson were still alive, and possessed a fine property, and rejoiced in the society of several dutiful children. Colwell andhis wife were still alive and happy. The Teezles had not succeededgreatly in worldly affairs; but they had a home and a good family, andnone saw pleasanter days. Uncle Walter and Aunt Huldah lived in a ripeold age; and he loved a hunt and a fine story, and she loved stubbingand scouring still; and could boast the whitest linen, the whitestfloor, and clearest maple sugar. And these had all learnt wisdom sincethe feast at Aunt Polly Waldron's, and were more refined in thought andspeech. 

Tilly Troffater carried still about him, as he did his scars, a few ofhis early habits and characteristics; as for instance, his love oflevity slightly corrected; his love of indolence, and an occasionalglass of whisky; his swaggering loquacity, a little improved; and oncein a while the mischief of the busybody. But all regarded him, on thewhole, as a reformed man, and were quick to give him credit andencouragement, where they could see any change for good; expecting thathe would carry a few peculiarities with him to his grave. 

George Ludlow was solidly esteemed and affectionately regarded as a sonby Mr. And Mrs. Fabens, while Fanny responded to his sentiments, andanswered his heart with something deeper, and more a principle of hersoul, than common passional love. He was esteemed by the neighbors asquite a second Fabens; and those few vain youths and maidens who hadaffected contempt for his humble parentage and life, were now compelledto blush for their heartless folly, and respect him. The week arrivedin which George and Fanny were to be married, and great preparationswere made for the happy bridal day. 

XXVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Life in the country has many scenes for pictures. Its customs andfestivities, though sometimes rude and homely, are never without theirromance. The country courtship may not be conducted by laws laid downin books of etiquette, but it is all the more romantic for its franksimplicity. The city courtship may appear the most genteel in thesplendid parlor, with the lover on a sofa displaying his stocks andcertificates of wealth to the matron, and through her winning hissweetheart; while the maiden at her piano opens absorbing ears to catchhis wooing words; but all must confess the country courtship makes thebest picture, with the ruddy maiden in the farm-yard, in her coolsun-bonnet and clean checkered frock; the bloom of the season on hercheeks, and its fragrance in her breath; making music with sweetstreams in her milk-pail; while her lover at her elbow, or leaning overthe wall, as jocund as a bobolink, tells her of his horses and cows;his wheat-lands and meadow-lands; his berry-fields; his melon-patch, and maple-orchard; his nice little rural home, and his pleasant love ofher. 

The country wedding also makes a charming picture of one of thehappiest scenes under heaven; and it was determined by the Fabensesthat Fanny's wedding should lack no joy or enjoyment which they hadmeans to give. The season was never more lovely, and the fruits of thegarden, orchard, and field were never more abundant. The commodiousfarm-house had been re-painted, and it looked as well as new; its doorscould open to a goodly company, and a goodly company came before threeo'clock to make merry with them. 

Neighbor Nimblet and his wife were the first of the wedding-guests whoentered; and Nancy and her husband entered soon after. Then came UncleWalter over the fields, a-foot, with his coat on his arm, in his newwide-brimmed hat, long Lon'on-brown vest, with gilt buttons and scarletback; his white wristbands turned up, and white collar turned down;enjoying, in the tidiest way, a clean little quid of Cavendish, andselecting and cooking a story for the feast. And Aunt Huldah came withhim in the neatest cap, the nicest dress, and the brightest gold beadsthat any old lady wore. Then came the Teezles; then came the Colwells, followed soon by their young people. Then came the Wilsons; then camethe widow Flaxman, thinking how sad it would be to sing one of her oldnasal songs alone. Then came Mrs. Troffater and Ruth; and they wereable to offer no satisfactory excuse for Tilly, who had refused alltheir pleas to come with them, and taken to the woods without his dogor gun. Many remarked that they never saw Mrs. Troffater appear sowell before. She wore a brand-new calico frock, of a rich de laineappearance; she had a nice cap, and handsome amber beads; and thoughher cap-border was rather too wide, and plaited too thinly for perfecttaste, and the young people smiled to see it rise and fall with thewind; she appeared well enough; and no one attended the wedding with awarmer welcome than she. Then came Seneca Waldron and his wife; andsoon all the guests were there. 

The fathers and mothers were gathered into the white north-room, exchanging glad looks and hearty salutations, as if each had beenautumn itself, smiling in great and abundant heart on the scene; andthey were discussing the beauty of the day, and the excellence of theseason; relating each other's history; and recalling incidents of theolden time, when the country was new, and neighbors were farther apartand more friendly; while the young people, happy as a flock of birds inthe sunny days of mate-choosing, and freshly blooming as thelandscape--around them, were out on the mown field adjacent to thehouse, whirling in the sportive ring, bounding in the merry dance, chatting in agreeable groups, or chasing one another on flying feet toexact or administer some little forfeit, or whisper some mirthful wordor tale. 

Father Lovelight, the travelling Minister, had long been expected onanother visit to Summerfield, and he came three or four days in advanceof the appointment, to attend the wedding and perform the ceremony. The time drew near for the company to be called in, and the ceremony tocommence, and Mr. And Mrs. Fabens talked to each other of the joy thatsat as a guest in their home. 

"We feel well for our daughter, " said Fabens, "we believe that life toher must be a blessing, and we are glad to meet our friends when wefind it in our power, as in our pleasure, to make them so happy. "

"Certainly, this is a happy occasion as I ever attended in my life, "said Father Lovelight; "and I wish my good wife could be here. I knowher whole heart would enjoy it. I have attended weddings, where theparties were unequally matched, or unprepared for a union so sacred, and they have given me funeral thoughts. May this joy be prophetic ofthe future bliss of the young couple. May my offices this afternoon bealways a subject of pleasant thoughts. "

"There's nothing at all unpleasant in a time like this, " said UncleWalter; "and I tell you what, Fabens, we have had a good many merrytimes in these parts. "

"That we have, " answered Fabens, "and I do not recollect any party wehave had among us, that did not more than pay the trouble and expense, in the proceeds of joy and love it added to our treasury. "

"Uncle Moses and I determined before any of you came, that thereshouldn't be any hermits in the settlement; but if we could have oursay, all should be neighbors, and have our joys and griefs together, without respect to high or low. We have kept our word pretty well;and, if we have not, like the chipmonks, laid up quite so many nuts inour nests, we have had acorns of pleasure in thousands, laid up all themore comfort, and held our ages better. "

"Ay, ay, " answered Fabens; "these neighborly loves, these socialregards and reunions, have been the life and wealth of our place; and Ifor one have been more blest than Hezekiah, as I am sure that more thanfifteen years have been added to my life. "

"Our lives are greener and wider, as well as longer for these things, "said Uncle Walter. "Men are like corn, growing all to stalk, andlooking sallow, and scrawny, when standing alone; but branching out inbroad leaves, abundant silks and lusty ears, when they grow and wavetogether. "

"Even the young man who came here last night a stranger, Mr. Sumner, Ibelieve he called his name, "--interrupted Mrs. Fabens, glancing out onthe green where the young people lingered in merriment:--"even he seemsto enjoy it with the rest. I am glad we invited him to stay andrefresh himself, and share our happiness all he can. And I see he isalready acquainted with several, and often smiles. But he frequentlylooks serious and absent, as though his mind was away. He may bereminded of his home, and of some good time like this with hearts nearand dear. "

"A stranger?" asked Mrs. Nimblet, "a stranger! and how could youpersuade him to stay where all were strangers to him?"

"We urged him considerably, " said Fabens, "and thinking it would restand refresh him for finishing his journey, he concluded to tarry andenjoy what he could. See, there he stands talking with Jeanie Waldron, near the bee-house on the left, --the girl dressed in white with aflower in her hair. "

"Near the girl with a flower? O I see him, I see him, " cried Mrs. Nimblet. "And I, " cried another, "and I" another. 

"Well, he's a real nice-looking fellow, I vow he is, if that's he withJeanie, " said Mrs. Wilson. 

"I tell you what, he looks like a manly major, " added Uncle Walter. 

"I call him handsome, " said Mrs. Fabens, "and I know he must be a goodand noble-gifted being; he looks it all from his lovely eyes. And ifhe is made happy among strangers, surely we have done something for awayfarer, and ought to take pleasure from the deed. "

"A deed like that will answer very well in lieu of what the Squire wasgoing to do for a young man in 'Fabens Academy, ' and for a poorhomeless heart in 'Fabens Asylum, ' when he got rich in the firm of'Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens!'" said Uncle Walter with a roguish leer. 

"None of your nonsense now, Uncle Walter!" answered Fabens with ablushing smile. 

"I never had a stranger so win upon my heart before, " said Mrs. Fabens. "He seems a stranger, and not a stranger, in the same look. I couldkiss him and call him my son, I could, I feel so towards him!--O thereis one wish that keeps rising in my heart. I have tried to repress it, for it cannot be right to harbor it so long; but it will rush beforeme, and I sigh for one more blessing. If Clinton could be here, ourdear lost Clinton! Last night I dreamed he came back and made us allso happy; and as he sat down to a feast we made for him, a company ofjoys like little smiling cherubs waited on the table, and gave him thebest of every dainty and treat. And telling the dream to Fanny thismorning, the tears filled her eyes, and she said, 'If we could have himhere, it would be all the heaven we could ask below. What would I notgive, ' said she, 'to have my brother at my wedding!'--It was such ajoyful dream, and it was so hard to wake up and find it was nothing buta dream, and Clinton was not here!"

"I cannot think of the poor boy for a moment, " said Fabens, "withoutgrief for his loss and regret for the affliction. But we cannot haveeverything as we like it now. We must be resigned, and wait for heavento bring the perfect bliss. God afflicts in mercy; I am sure we shallmeet him in heaven, and that will be greater than any blessing earthcan give. You would have worshipped an Indian, Julia, if he hadbrought Clinton alive to your arms, on the day of the great search, would you not?"

"I should have been tempted to worship him. Words could not have toldmy gratitude and love, " said Mrs. Fabens. 

"Then, think what sufficing joy we should take to our souls, " saidFabens, "and what thanks of worship we should give our God andRedeemer, for the assurance that he will be brought to our bosom in allthe youthful bloom of heaven, never more to wander from us, never moreto suffer, never more to sorrow, never more to die!"

"But for that blessed hope, " said Mrs. Fabens, with a flush of loftyfeeling lighting all her features--"but for that blessed hope, I shouldbe a maniac, I know I should, at this moment. "

"What could have become of the pretty precious boy?" asked Fabens, as atear rolled over each cheek. "Can he be alive? I often think of thelittle fawn, and mother's dying words. O, the terrible mystery! Willit never be solved on earth?--The Lord's will be done!"

"I remember just how he looked the last time I saw him, " said UncleWalter, wiping his eyes. "I fingered his crinkling curls, andsaid--'What does Uncle Walter want of Clintie?' 'A kiss, ' cried thelittle beauty, and threw his soft arms around my old neck, opened hitlips, like sweet-pea blossoms, and planted a rousing smack on my chin. Then, I caught him in my arms, kissed his velvet cheeks, chanked hisfat neck, chuckled under his chin, and called him a bobolink; and hemade all ring again with his merry bobolink laugh. That was the lasttime I saw him. "

"He was a dear boy, " sighed Fabens. 

"Too dear, too dear to die as he did. O, Lord, continue thy comfort!"sobbed Mrs. Fabens. 

The conversation was then interrupted, for it was announced that thecouple were ready to appear for the ceremony as soon as the guestscould be called into the north room. The guests gathered in, and tooktheir seats, more than filling the room. Then entered the bridegroom, leading as bright a blooming beauty of a bride, as your dainty eyeswould choose to see; and they seated themselves where nearly all thecompany had the blessing of a view of their joyful looks. Uncle Walterdeclared, that the sight was feast enough for him, and he should haveno appetite after that for supper. Colwell thought it was lighter andmore summer-like in the room than before. 

Then, when every breath and pulse were so hushed, that nothing butsilence itself filled all ears, --Father Lovelight begged leave toperform a ceremony before the marriage one. It would not be a greatinterruption, and he hoped it might heighten, and not dampen theirjoys. And leading in the stranger, he said, "Mr. And Mrs. Fabens, thegentleman I hold by the hand, revealed to me a mystery last night, which I am not unhappy now to disclose. Your prayers are answered. Your joy is complete. Receive your lost son. Clinton returns in joyto your arms!"

"Has heaven been opened so soon?" cried Fabens, standing like a statue. 

"It cannot be Clinton, but, only my dream of him!" cried Mrs. Fabens, clasping her hands, and looking amazed. 

"Believe me, madam, it is your own dear son, " said Father Lovelight. 

"Father!" cried the stranger. 

"Clinton!" cried Fabens, rushing to embrace him. 

"My child! my dear, dear child!" cried Mrs. Fabens, falling in his arms. 

"O, father!--mother!--sister!" cried the stranger, as the loving threecontended to clasp him closest to each heart. 

"Is it my brother, or my mother's dream I hold!--It must, it must behe! O, we will be happy now!" cried Fanny, embracing all of thatprecious form she could extort from her father and mother. 

"I will have at least one hand--my brother's hand!" cried GeorgeLudlow, grasping his left hand and pressing it warmly. 

"It is he!--it is Clinton! I know this face--these eyes! I do notdream! It is not heaven has opened. Clinton's alive, and mother'sword fulfilled!" cried Fabens, pressing the stranger closer to hisheart. 

"Merciful heavens! what can this mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Nimblet. 

"It is amazing strange!" replied Mr. Nimblet. 

"I'll have one grab at him, any way, " cried Uncle Walter, making forthe hand, so warmly clasped by George Ludlow. 

"So'll I! So'll I, and take pay and interest for my four days' hunt, "cried Wilson. 

"I loved to kiss him, too; and where is my part?" cried Aunt Huldah, joining in the group. 

"And mine!" "and mine!" cried Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Colwell. 

"Gracious alive! what's comin' to pass?--Good! good! good! if it'sClintie--but, O, I fear now, that Tillson's in fault--I fear!"exclaimed Mrs. Troffater, seeming to be shocked with some new suspicionof her husband. 

"Bring water! bring water! Mrs. Fabens is faint!" cried Mrs. Teezle, and Mrs. Troffater brought water, and her mind and strength wererestored, while she exclaimed, "too good! too good, I fear! too good tobe true!" and "just right! just right in the nick o' time!" repliedUncle Walter. 

Others attempted to edge in their hand and word of joy, who werecrowded back by those before them. It was no dream. It was their ownworshipped Clinton in their arms. And it remains only for the presentto relate, that the marriage ceremony, though delayed longer than anyone was aware, till Father Lovelight at last gave the hour, was stillperformed, and rare and high was the joy that made Uncle Walter forgethis story, and Mrs. Flaxman her song; and was carried on by thatglorious company full to the very midnight. 

Tilly Troffater had bitterly repented the crime of the boy's abduction, to which he was accessary, and he received not a moment's respite fromthe tortures of hell, that tore his anguished heart, till he heardwhere Clinton remained; went, and informed him of his parents, andhome, and directed his steps to that door. But the young man's storyis reserved for another volume, on another labor of life.