yo o *"n 4 t * 34 3 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT; OR, Sire Simnle Stejj 0f 5 Astern 10m*. BY A MINISTER S WIFE. NEW YORK: DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU STREET. 1859. EJTTBH.KD atco/di .,g ti/ Act of Co.igress, In tje jv.r .C5, oy DERBY A JACKSON, the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United St-.tea for the Sonthei n Dist riot of \i .v Yurk W. H. TI.NSON, Stereotyper Gao. RUSSELL & Co., Printers. PS P E E F A E . SOME years since, I prepared the following sketch of the life of a dear friend, with whose history I had been familiar. At the time, my only object was to shorten some of the lonely hours of a tedious convalescence, and to gratify and amuse my children. Nothing could have been further from my thoughts, than trusting myself to the ten der mercies of public opinion. But months after, a clergy man s wife, visiting in the family, chanced to read the manuscript, and felt that, if published, it might do good by leading laymen to perceive how easily, by kindness, con- siderateness and prompt payment, they could strengthen their Pastor s hands, or, on the contrary, paralyze all his efforts and energy, by negligence, thoughtlessness and selfishness. " On that hint I spake." The main story, or rather narrative, is literally true. Names and dates have been changed for obvious reasons, and in some few instances, I M102444 V PREFACE. have resorted to fiction, by giving that which a people should do, instead of what they did or did not do. There fore, should these pages meet their eyes and a " still small voice " point them to the original, of some parts of this picture, that same voice will acquit both their old friends, and also the narrator, of any disposition to exag gerate, " or set down aught in malice." CONTENTS CHAPTER I. MM MART AND HEE MOTHER, ,9 CHAPTER II. HILL FARM, 17 CHAPTER III. LEAVING HOME, 32 CHAPTER IV. THE BEIDAL TEIP, 43 CHAPTER V. PREPARING A HOME, 66 CHAPTER VI. AT HOME, 84 CHAPTER VII. MBS. REED S HISTORY, ..... .99 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE A WELCOME GUEST, . . . . ... 118 CHAPTER IX. NOETON, . . . . 134 CHAPTER X. SICKNESS, ......... 153 CHAPTER XI. ADVICE GIVING, 163 CHAPTER XII. A CHAPTEE ox "HELP," 184 CHAPTER XIII. THE DONATION PAETT, 202 CHAPTER XIV. A WELCOME VISIT AND A SAD PABTIXG, . . . 230 CHAPTER XV. A JOUENEY, . .... ... . . 245 CHAPTER XVI. THE VISIT AND EETUEN, . . . . . ,268 CHAPTER XVII. THE TEUE SPHEKE OF WOMAN, ... . 287 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER XVIII. PAG> DEATH OF LITTLE HARRY, 801 CHAPTER XIX. CONCLUSION, .817 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. CIIAPTEE I. MARY AND HER MOTHER. THE room is bright and cheerful, marked by neat ness and comfort, rather than luxury or elegance. At a window, looking southward, over a magnifi cent lawn, and broad green meadows, sits a mid dle-aged matron, with whose dark brown hair, scarcely yet touched with silver, and delicately tinted cheek and lip, time has dealt so kindly, that many a city belle, faded and worn by the dissipa tion of a life of pleasure, would give half the jewels which glitter on her form, to secure but a small portion of her gentle beauty. Her sewing lies unnoticed in her lap, as her eye wanders fondly over the peaceful scene before her, !* 9 LO . > , FEQM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. . yet all it s quiet loveliness has not power to .tli$ lines; qf (ie,ep ; , ar-.d somewhat troubled thought from her brow. Spring will in a few days yield to brighter sum mer. The noble trees, scattered over the grounds, whose broad branches give promise of grateful shelter from summer sun or shower, are already covered w T ith the half developed leaves of delicate green, and tiny spots of white, among the cherry and pear trees, are peering, roguishly, out from their winter hiding-places sure token that in a few days the " Hill Farm " will be spangled with blos soms, and redolent with perfumery of nature s own distilling. The meadow is sparkling with the yel low cowslip and dandelion, and "the hale young farmer goes whistling at his plough," on the hill side beyond. Surely, there can be nothing here to encourage sorrow or sadness. Rising from her seat, as if her reverie had at length settled some uncertainty in her own mind, she turns with a sigh toward a young girl evidently an invalid who is seated near her, at the east window, in a large, old-fashioned easy chair. Yery beautiful to that fond mother s eye, is THE MOTH Eli s ANXIETY. 11 the delicate being before her. She, too, is gazing upon a landscape, even more enchanting than that from which her mother has just turned. The broad lake, transformed into a sea of liquid gold, by the morning sun the mighty hills, flash ing back a glory "borrowed from the same source, and all the wealth of wood, and field, and meadow are before her : then why should so deep a shadow rest upon so young a face, or tear after tear fall unheeded? But the mother s watchful eye is anxiously trying to read her thoughts, and not well pleased w r ith the result of her scrutiny, she steps softly to her daughter s side, and putting back the rich auburn curls which have fallen over her brow, said " Mary, my dear child, why so sad to-day ? You are fast regaining health and strength ; and your father says he shall endeavor to give you a ride this afternoon. The season is so favorable; everything looks bright and hopeful. Indeed, I cannot see my daughter s spirits drooping now, when her heart should be overflowing with grati tude, for the mercies of the past few weeks." " Dear mother, I will try to overcome this de spondency. I was looking back upon the past, and 12 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. trembling for the future ; but at the same time, 1 trust, not forgetful of the unmerited blessings of the present." " Leave the future with God, my child, and try to let the past be i as a dream when one awaketh ; at least, that part of it which must, necessarily, give you pain to remember. It can do you no good to recall it, and will, most assuredly, retard your recovery. For myself, I feel too joyous, too grateful, that you are spared to us, to countenance any indulgence in unprofitable reminiscences. It has given me much pain, to see you so little cheerful. Think of those around us, whose homes have been made utterly desolate by this terrible disease, while the Lord has not suffered His destroying angel to come into our house to smite us. Though scat tered, we are still an unbroken band. Oh! how kindly has our God dealt with us ?" " I do, indeed, bear this in grateful remembrance, and bless God with all my powers, who has so mercifully given my life to your prayers. And oh ! how thankful am I, dear mother, that you are pow relieved from watching and anxiety, and can begin to rest. It has been the hardest part of my illness, to see you so exhausted and distressed. TROUBLES QUIETED. 13 But" and again the eyes of the young girl filled with tears, and she hesitated. " But what, my dear child ? I must know what it is that troubles you, Mary." " Oh, mother ! I almost dread to get about again. If father would only love George ; if he could be made to realize how little true happiness depends on wealth, or the position which riches are supposed to give ! I shrink from the ride with him to-day ; I tremble every time I see him alone, lest he should renew all the old sorrows, and insist upon my yielding to his wishes in regard to Mr. Dalton ; and that, mother, I can never, never do." "Be calm, my daughter, and listen. I have good news for you, which I supposed you were too weak to bear just yet. Had I thought of your very natu ral anxiety, however, I should not have delayed this information till now. You need fear no further annoyance, on this dreaded subject. You have nothing now to do but get well as fast as possible and I, meanwhile, must school myself to feel ready to give you to George next fall. We learned last night that Dalton was married a week since to a lady in Boston. But, my poor child, you must be Z4 FRUM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. calm ;" for Mary, while listening to lier mother s words, had been greatly agitated, and now burst Into uncontrollable weeping. "Bear with me a few moments, dear mother. These foolish tears will do me no harm." Mary, though young, had acquired self-control through many a sharp lesson, and was soon able to subdue the excitement which her mother s words had occasioned. " Does father know of this ?" she said, at length. " Oh, yes. He heard the rumor some days since, but gave it no credence till last evening, when he met a friend of Mr. Dalton s at i Spring s Store, who was one of the attendants on the occasion ; and, with the evident intention of irritating your father, most officiously narrated all the circum stances, in as public a manner as possible." " Please tell me how father received it." "I trust he had too much self-respect to manifest any annoyance, or receive it otherwise than with indifference, before so many listeners; but, you know, he had quite set his heart on this thing, though during your illness he seemed to drop the matter forever, and leave you to choose for your self. Yet, of course, he was somewhat excited las MOTJKNING TURNED TO MINSTEELST. 15 night. I think, however, as much by the insulting way in which the intelligence was given, and the slight put upon you as it was evidently intended he should consider it as by any great disappoint ment in losing Dalton ; for, from some things that have, accidentally, come to my knowledge, I fancy the purse-proud fellow, in his two last interviews, manifested an arrogance and disrespect which your father would not have tolerated, if again repeated. These last few weeks have, to be sure, enabled him to think more reasonably than he could do while constantly excited by that man. Yet, I greatly mistake if Dalton s overbearing temper had not in a short time so disgusted him, that you would have been left free, even if you had not been ill." ""Well, mother, this intelligence accounts for the sharp tone in which father spoke to me this morning. I feared a renewal of everything that has combined to make my life miserable the past year, and have been heart-sick ever since." " But now, my child, thank God, who has < turned your mourning into minstrelsy, and ever try to bear in mind that your dear father s wish was to bring about that which he thought would FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. really make you happy in the end ; and if age and infirmity may have caused him to appear self- willed, and to judge incorrectly, you must forget it, and think of him ever with confidence and love. "I shall leave you now, darling, to rest till dinner, that you may have strength and spirits for your afternoon ride." " Never fear but I shall, dearest mother. It was the anxiety I have felt on this subject that has retarded my recovery, but now I feel as light- hearted and cheerful as a bird." CHAP TEE II. HILL FABM. WHILE the now happy Mary is resting from the excitement of the foregoing conversation, we will improve the opportunity to give such explanation as may be needed to interpret the introductory chapter, and also to make our readers acquainted with the worthy inmates of " Hill Farm." Dr. John Leighton was the youngest son of a kind, hard working, but quite uneducated farmer, in one of the smallest and most obscure towns in good old Massachusetts. He was among the first settlers of the place, and as his family rapidly multiplied around him, it was no easy task to make his large, but sterile farm meet all their necessities, and yet keep free from debt DEBT ! "No ghost or goblin, conjured up in olden times by designing priests, to frighten poor ignorant mortals into abject compliance with their wickedness, ever held more powerful dominion over any human being, than IT 18 FIIOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. that word possessed over Moses Leighton. Brave, as simple hearted, it was all on earth that he feared. It conveyed to his mind the only distinct idea of what " the unpardonable sin " must mean ; at any rate, it was so great a wrong " that he would never have forgiven himself if guilty of it." ~No labor was too hard, no deprivation worth a thought, so long as he could with honest pride, lay his hand upon his heart and say, " I owe no man a penny." When, therefore, John expressed a wish to pre pare for the practice of medicine, his father was utterly confounded. Where was the money to come from? "Farming, shoemaking, and black smith work, had done well enough for himself and his elder boys preaching was all right, if any one had a gift that way but lawyers were always meddling with other people s quarrels, and he really must think that doctors put more into the grave yard, than they ever kept out. "Why couldn t Johnny be contented to do like the rest of the family, and not wish to set himself above them ?" At length, after many discussions, it was settled in family council, that " arter all, Johnny never did love to work, and doctoring, was, may be, bout all he d ever be good for." THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 19 And thereupon Jolm Leigliton left home, and struggled through difficulties and trials that would have disheartened any but a sturdy son of New England, until he had secured a sufficient educa tion for the profession he had chosen. A year s trial convinced the staid people of the little village where he at first established himself, and who, it must be confessed, had been rather dis pleased with the tall, pale young doctor s some what foppish air, that he had, as they expressed it, " something to him." In seven years he stood higher in his profession than any of the neighboring physicians, and began to feel that the place was too strait for him. In the early part of his public life he had mar ried a woman several years younger than himself, of a most lovely disposition, and exalted char acter. Her whole life was devoted to the service of her husband and children, and every opportu nity which enabled her to aid in carrying out his plans, was a great addition to her happiness. When, therefore, he one day informed her of an unexpected opening for his business, in a large and nourishing town near by, and that at the same time he had been urged to buy the well known 20 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT Hill Farm, in that place, lie found her, as usual, ready to cooperate, yet fully aware of the addi tional labor and responsibility which must, of necessity, come upon herself. There was but one point that inclined them to hesitate at all. Both had been educated to feel the greatest reluctance to take any step that might involve them in pecuniary obligations. If Dr. Leighton made the contemplated change, he would be obliged, at once, to assume a debt of several thousands, and, as in those primitive days, a fortune was not made in a day nor lost as ra pidly it would be a work of time, and the most rigid economy to free themselves from the burden, and rejoice once more in true independence. With courageous hearts, however, they calmly judged themselves, and both felt that they were capable of making the effort a blooming daughter and three fine sons, being, in their estimation, incentives sufficient for any exertion. They argued wisely, that a farm was the best place to give strength and health to their sons, and establish in them such habits of industry and per severance, as were most likely to insure their be coming men of the right stamp, whatever vocation THE HAPPY HOME. 21 they might choose, when old enough to judge for themselves, and that the same habits would secure true worth to their beloved daughter. The change was made. Hill Farm became the happy home of Dr. Leighton and his family. Twenty years passed swiftly by. Ten " brave lads and merry lassies " had made the old halls vocal with their glee. Of course it could not be ex pected that so long a period would bring only un mixed happiness ; for Hill Farm was of the earth. The " trail of the serpent " was visible even here. In the loved circle, sin, and conse quently sorrow, had often sought and found a tem porary shelter ; and many a hard battle had been fought, before the foe, once received, could be ex pelled. Yet in all these years, Death s dark shadow had never fallen on their home ; and though their loved ones were beginning to disperse, in various ways, they could still feel that theirs was an un broken family. Four of the children, happy, and highly respected, w r ere settled near the old homestead. Three sons, having by patient economy toiled through a college education, had entered the min istry, and now stood before the world noble-hearted, 22 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. zealous champions for the truth. Mary and her two youngest brothers were all that remained with their parents. The farm was paid for. It had been no light task to bring forward so large a family, and yet cancel all liabilities ; but it had been bravely met ; father, mother, sons and daughters, each in their sphere, lending a helping hand, and cheerfully and lovingly, bearing one another s burdens. The daughters were energetic and capable, the sons ready to meet life s changes with cheerful self- reliance and Christian courage, and the character of the judicious mother, sincerely loved by friends and neighbors, and well-nigh idolized by her family, shone all the brighter for every trial. But it would have been marvellous had all come from the contest unscathed. Unfortunately, Dr. Leighton, in this long and severe struggle for inde pendence and competence, had learned to place too high an estimate on wealth; and, just when freed from pecuniary embarrassments, his wife and children began to feel that they might take life a little easier, and enjoy the fruits of their mutual industry ; he became even more close and calcu lating, and what, in past days, had been only neces- 23 sary economy, was now, in old age, fast tending toward a morbid penuriousness. He was by nature, though passionate and some what exacting, a large-hearted and affectionate man. Mrs. Leighton s gentle firmness and quiet management had warded off many a storm, which, but for her, would have shipwrecked some of her children, and perhaps destroyed the happiness of others. As age and over-exertion began to affect the doctor s powerful frame and excellent constitu tion, his temper was less under control, and this, joined to his increasing love of wealth, threatened to darken the life of his noble partner and the younger children. A year before our history commences, Mary became acquainted, through one of her brothers, with a young gentleman of great worth and supe rior talents. Thrown often into each other s society, as was but natural, the acquaintance soon ripened into strong attachment ; and when George Herbert, with manly frankness, made known his wishes to her parents, Mrs. Leighton gave a cordial approval, and the doctor had too great a respect for talent and intellectual superiority, to withhold his consent, though, truth to tell, it was not given 24: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. as cheerfully as could have been wished. If the engagement might have been consummated in the course of a few months, he would have felt no hesitation. There was no other claimant for his daughter s hand at the time, and George, by his re spectful attention, had secured a strong hold on Dr. Leighton s affections. But the young man had con secrated himself to the work of the ministry, and some years must elapse before he could feel prepared to enter upon the labors of that profession. Both Mary and himself were young too young to think of immediate marriage, even had he been all pre pared, and they had too much confidence in eacli other s truth, to apprehend any danger from a protracted engagement. The old gentleman, however, saw T " lions in the way " on every side. Something disastrous was sure to happen. " Long engagements never did turn out well," and this would only be the repetition of the old story : a false lover and broken-hearted damsel, long before Herbert s education was completed. But the only lion that could alarm Mrs. Leigh- ton or her daughter, intruded all too soon under the guise of a large fortune, encumbered with a ANOTHER OFFEK. 25 self-conceited young man, utterly devoid of deli cacy, and nothing doubting but that half a million could buy the fairest lady in the land. The slight obstacle of a prior engagement what was that, before such a pile of gold? Mrs. Leighton and the brothers and sisters left no honorable means untried to conceal the knowledge of Mr. Dalton s wishes from Mary s father, too well aware that the prospect of an immediate settlement and unlimited wealth would have a power over his mind, which once he would have scorned to recognize. The eldest brother was the first to whom the man of dollars condescended to declare his inten tion to honor Miss Mary w r ith his name and for tune ; but he was frankly told that her heart w r as no longer in her own keeping. With the simpli city of an honest mind, Robert Leighton supposed a gentleman would need nothing more, to show the impropriety of any further advances. Judge of his indignation when the purse-proud man, in the most patronizing manner, begged leave to assure Mr. Leighton that such a trifle would never cause him the least uneasiness. He was proud to have it in his power to place Miss Mary in so enviable a 2 26 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. position, that she could not fail to forget all that girlish romance, and her friends might rest satis fied that she would never be reminded by him of this amiable weakness. Whereupon he was em phatically assured that the young lady, as well as her friends, was perfectly satisfied with her youth ful choice, and could never experience the slightest drawings toward Mr. Dalton, or his omnipotent money-bags. He left young Leighton determined on making a personal application to Mary, confident that his charms must prove irresistible. " Just as though," said he to a crony, " Miss Leighton will dream of refusing a position of ease and affluence, together with a clever young fellow, like myself, for limited means and a poor parson ! ISTo, no. The Leigh- tons won t forget so readily how much toil and self-denial they encountered to secure their pres ent position. Trust me, she will not say me nay." Warned by her brother of Dalton s determina tion, Mary carefully avoided all society where she would be in danger of meeting him ; but the fear that he might make application to her father, was a source of great anxiety to herself and mother ; AN TTNGALLANT SUITOR. 27 for unspoken in the heart of both, was the fore boding of great sorrow, should he learn that Mary had refused so dazzling an offer. In a short time he succeeded in forcing himself into her presence, and was politely but most de cidedly refused, and on leaving the room, coolly assured her he should not consider her answer as final until he had seen Dr. Leighton himself. This threat was soon acted upon, and of course, the old gentleman resolved that if Mary did not know what was for her own good, she must be compelled to understand it. From that dark day, poor Mrs. Leighton and her daughter were equally persecuted. Dalton besieged the house ; and when refused an interview, the doctor s anger was violently aroused. Many months went by, and happiness seemed for ever banished from that once peaceful habitation. George Herbert was far away, and delicacy would not permit his being informed of the trials to which his poor Mary was subjected. To the heart-sick girl, earth was fast becoming a dreary place. Her father, who had in happier days been more indulgent to her, as the youngest daughter, than any of his flock, now seldom spoke, 28 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. except in anger, or to insist upon her listening to Dalton s addresses. But there was a sad rebuke in store for his mis guided heart. That dreaded scourge, the scarlet fever, had been very severe during the winter and spring. Dr. Leighton was in constant requisition, his reputation for skill and sound judgment, in acute disease, being still unimpaired. The fatigue of day and night service, at his advanced age, of course had a tendency to make him more than usually irritable when at home. One evening he entered his house under great excitement. Dalton had, it appeared, been urging strong measures assuring the doctor that he would give up the pursuit, if Mary could not be brought to obey her father ; and smarting under the imputation of inability to control his household, he forgot himself, and words were spoken, which, before morning, he would have given worlds to recall. Mary had been drooping for some days, and before the sun again brightened her pleasant chamber with his morning rays, she was smitten by the fearful disease which had made such sad havoc in many a neighbor s home. "LOOK AT OUR CHILD." 29 Oh, how her fathers heart reproached him, when, in the delirium of fever, she entreated him to love poor Mary again, and not break her heart ; and then again wildly calling upon George to shield her from such harsh treatment, and take her away. Suns waxed and waned hope died out from the mother s heart, and none may tell that father s anguish, when, turning from her bedside, on the fourteenth morning, in reply to his poor wife s earnest look, he said : " My dear ! There is no hope ! I have done all I can !" and the strong man bowed his head on her shoulder and wept like a child. " Oh ! my bird ! my pet, my darling Mary ! If she would but rally long enough to forgive her hard old father! Confound that Dalton! It is enough to drive me mad, to think that I should have been willing to yield my own sweet dove to such a fool for the sake of his dollars V "Hush, dear husband," said Mrs. Leighton. " Look at our child !" Her eyes were turned full on her father s face, and for the first time in many days, beamed with intelligence. A bright smile flashed across her 30 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. wan cheek, speaking as plainly as words could have done, of love and forgiveness for him, and peace and comfort for herself. A moment it lingered, and then the fever burned more fiercely than before. For hours those sorrowing parents, and her weeping brothers and sisters, hung over her, fear ing each breath would be the last. At length she slept, and anxious watchers hushed their own heart-throbs, to listen to her breathings. Time passed unheeded by that mournful group. Break fast and dinner had been served, but none moved from the side of the pale sleeper. Darkness once more brooded over the Hill Farm when Mary woke the fearful disease had spent its force, and she was saved. Four weeks had elapsed since that eventful evening, and Mary, though convalescing, was not yet strong. An irritable word from her father had awakened all her old fears. The doctor had heard of Dalton s marriage the previous evening, while attending to some business at the village store. A large number of idlers were lounging around, and the manner in which the intelligence was communicated was exceedingly ANXIETY REMOVED. 31 vexatious, and this, together with the thought that the wealth which might have been his daughter s, was now lost to her, had irritated him exceedingly. But his really good sense, and kind heart, soon banished all regrets, and he was able to recall the memory of his own youthful days, and to feel that wealth was not necessary to his child s peace or happiness. He saw that he had distressed her greatly by his petulance in the morning, and during their ride exerted himself to dispel every shade of uneasiness from her mind. The ride was delightful, and Mary returned refreshed and com forted. " And now, dear mother," said she, when she had told Mrs. Leighton how pleasantly the time had passed, " I begin to feel well and strong already. The certainty that I have nothing more to fear from Dalton has removed a burden from my mind which kept me constantly anxious ; but you need feel no further anxiety on my account. I consider myself no longer on the sick CHAPTEE III. LEAVING HOME. Two weeks after the incidents recorded in the last chapter, we again find Mrs. Leighton and her daughter seated in Mary s pleasant chamber. They are speaking of the changes which a few months wall, probably, make in their circum stances. " It makes me sad, mother, when I think how lonely you and father will soon be. Are you aware that both Henry and John have no taste for a farmer s life, and are only w r aiting for some opening, by which they can make the attempt to secure a collegiate education ?" A shadow, for a moment, crossed Mrs. Leighton s face ; but all traces of feeling were instantly sup pressed, and she replied, calmly : " I ought not to be surprised, though I can hardly realize that your brothers have passed out 32 % THE GOOD MOTHER. 33 from boyhood and should soon be prepared to take their places among men. It is the lot of all parents to bring their loved ones on, step by step, till a mother s care and a father s control are no longer necessary, and then, like the young birds you were watching so intently yesterday, we must be willing to see them spread their wings, and seek a nest of their own." " It was of that I was thinking ; and how our mother, like that gentle bird, forgetting her own sorrow, encourages and strengthens us for our flight." " That is not so very hard to do, my dear, w r hen the mother sees all her children seeking the right path, and ready to labor for the best good of man kind, especially w r hen sure, as I am, that however distant, my children s hearts will ever turn lovingly to the dear old homestead, and to the parents shel tered there." " Well, now !" cried Johnny, bursting gaily into the room, " if here isn t our lady mother and demure sister Mary, looking for all the world as if they were just entering a convent ! Halloo ! Harry, come here. Wouldn t Mrs. Dr. Leighton make a grand Lady Abbess ? Wonder what father o* 34 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. would say to that? Doesn t she look as though she had j ust finished a lecture to sis, on the beauty and happiness of single blessedness? Say, May flower, doesn t mother wish you to take the white veil? If so, the document Harry w r as bringing you may as well go into the fire." " Not so at all, Johnny," said Harry. " I m much mistaken if it has not more to do toward procuring a white veil than all our bonnie mother s lectures. I wouldn t wonder if it s a homily from a certain devout priest, who is willing to take the trouble some office of confessor to Lady Mary Leighton. You may be sure he ll urge the importance of tak ing certain vows as soon as may be. But, say, sister mine, shall I burn this, as yonder scapegrace ad vises?" And the laughing Harry held up the letter. A glance at Mary s blushing face would have revealed the writer, if the post-mark had not done so before. "Long looked for, come at last. If master George doesn t give a satisfactory reason for making you wait so long, I shall challenge him to meet Harry and myself in the c Long Lot, with scythes for weapons, and we ll soon teach the young parson a lesson." A TEASING BROTHER. 35 " Leave your sister in peace, young giddy pates," said Mrs. Leighton, " and come with me." " But, mother, I feel it my duty (and painful though it be, I shall follow the path of duty straight out, as good Deacon Tombs says) to inform our young novice here, that I have heard of a widow, f with a right smart chance of money, out in those western wilds, who has been impressed with the belief that she is destined to take charge of George herself. Can he resist her golden charms, Mary, as faithfully as you did a cer tain " " Now, Johnny, you carry your jesting too far, and asserting my rights, I shall command you to leave my domains," said his sister, rising. Her brother caught her in his arms and showered a score of kisses on hands, face and brow, in revenge, as he said, for being so rudely dismissed, and then, with his mother and brother, left the room. The letter evidently agitates our fair friend, and, availing ourselves of an author s invisibility and privilege, we will purloin the contents, and soon learn what has so suddenly driven the roses from her cheek. 36 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. GLENVILLE, June 9, . i . MY DEAREST MARY : I have delayed writing the past two weeks, even at the risk of giving you some anxious hours, that I might decide upon a proposition of great importance to us both. It required much careful deliberation, and, as I could not be with you to talk it over, and must give an answer before letters could pass between us, I preferred, for your peace of mind, dear one, to say nothing till I could give you some definite information. I have received and accepted a call to become pastor of the church in this place. I preached my first regular sermon here the first of May, and have supplied the pulpit for the three last Sabbaths. The place is small, and many of my friends think I ought to secure a larger field. But I shall find more than I can do to my own satisfaction, I doubt not, and much prefer a young church to one that has become wedded to certain notions, which they will consider it sacrilege to gainsay or resist. And now, my own Mary, does not your heart interpret my wishes ? Is it not desirable that we should begin life s real work together ? I am to be ordained in six weeks or two months. I want my wife with me on that interesting occasion, and I feel that I cannot be denied. I cannot think as I ought of anything else, till I receive your answer. May I come for you one month from to-day ; and will you be ready to leave, with me, for our home the week after ? Dear Mary, the home I offer has little to attract, unless the love which has so long been yours, can adorn and beautify. I some times feel that it is selfish to remove you from all the comfort* THE UNEXPECTED SUMMONS. 37 which surround you, to the toil and hardship which must inevit ably fall to your lot, if you give yourself to me. But that you have already done have you not ? and I have no magnanimous intention of offering to resign you to that knight of the Golden Fleece, that Harry has warned me of. Ah, Mary ! It is high time I had you safe under my own care ! Dearest, I know you were sincere when you promised your love to me, and for all these years you have not swerved, under many temptations (God bless you) ! and now, you will not hesitate to grant my request, even though it be a few months earlier than we at first anticipated? I shall be restless and troubled till I hear from you. Do not delay. I can write no more now, and yet I feol that I have said nothing as I could wish. Ever yours, my own dear girl, GEORGE HERBERT. Mary had been accustomed to seek her mother when she had read her western letters for Mrs. Leighton was her children s confidant in all things but now, after waiting a long time, she sought her daughter s chamber, hardly knowing why she felt uneasy. Mary sat holding her open letter in her hand, but so deep in thought, that she did not observe her mother, till she stood by her side, and anxiously inquiring if she had received any thing to distress her. "Nothing to distress, dear mother ; but much to sober me." And she at once read the letter. 38 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Both sat silent for many minutes, and when Mrs. Leighton at last spoke, her voice had lost something of its accustomed calmness. " We have looked forward to this so long, my child that I, for one, thought I was prepared to meet it more courageously ; yet, now it comes over me like a new thought. How can I learn to do without you, my darling ! But this is foolish, I should set you an example of courage? " Lay by your letter for the present, and come with me into the garden. "We shall both think more cheerfully in the fresh, pure air, than in your chamber. We have many days, yet, in which to accustom ourselves to the change pro posed." " But, mother, I must answer this letter imme diately ; and what can I what ought I to say to George ?" "Your answer cannot go before the morning s mail, and you must come with me now. Yon are pale and weary with anxious thought. The evening will be soon enough for your letter." The mother and daughter passed at once from the chamber to the garden, and after lingering awhile among its pleasant walks, and watching THE FAREWELL. 39 the sun go down through gorgeous clouds, they returned to the house Mary to write the import ant letter, and Mrs. Leighton to break the matter to her husband and sons. We will not dwell upon the history of the next few weeks. The joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, belonging to those last days, when a young, warm-hearted girl prepares to leave father and mother, brother and sister, to go forth with the chosen one, need no description. The old have not forgotten the young will soon understand it ~by experience. The last words are spoken the last fond kisses exchanged, and tearful, but full of love and hope, the young bride passes from the home of her child hood. What changes ere she may enter it again Does he who now gazes fondly on the fair being by his side, realize all the responsibility he has so gladly assumed ? Will he deal gently with her always remembering that he is now her all that for his dear sake, she leaves every tie, and each familiar scene, to follow him into a land of strangers, and that whatever of care and labor may be in store for him, she has a claim on his time and thoughts, stronger than any other? Will 40 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. lie never forget tins claim or, as years roll by, will not contact with the conflicting elements of this busy world, so wean his thoughts from the wife of his youth that a wish expressed by her for a share of his society, or at least a small por tion of his hours of relaxation, may appear to him exacting or unkind ? Ah, this unintentional selfishness, so common to literary and public men, has caused more do mestic unhappiness than aught else save intem perance. They have so many things to perplex and harass them they are wearied with anxious thought for the good of their people, or by close research and investigation upon literary subjects, and the mind must rest, or change entirely the current of thought. They do not, by any means, intend to neglect their home treasures, and are not conscious that they do. But new acquaintances are gradually formed a word must be given to this one, a few moments to that, or just a step to glance at this curiosity till all the leisure time has flown, and the public servant must return to duties which require his undivided attention, and, perhaps, not one word or look has been saved for home. If, after many such experiences, the \?ifo WEDDED LITE. 41 ventures a timid remonstrance, a sharp rebuke may be the reply ; no doubt, repented as soon as uttered, but the conscience is easily silenced, by " Well, I did not mean to speak so impatiently ; but she is unreasonable. She should not forget that a public man has duties, in the way of trifling attentions to those interested in him, and and well, I ll be more careful in future." But con science, thus silenced, does not long ward off other, and more severe rebuffs, and it takes but a few years of such teaching, to make a wife fear as well as love; and, if sometimes wearied with long ing for a few loving words, sick, and overburdened with many cares, her sense of right and justice overcome both fear and love, and she speaks plain truths such as a wife can never, safely, venture upon most likely she increases the evil instead of remedying it. Oh ! why need this ever be so, when deep in the heart of both, burns a love stronger than death ? But, thanks be to God, there are many glorious exceptions, and that, too, among the most prominent of public and literary men. There are those whose hearts are springs, which no labor or adverse cir cumstances can quench ; whom God has so abund- 42 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. antly endowed, that, while the home garden, as the source and centre, is always fresh and decked with unfading flowers, the overflow of this glad, living-stream, freshens and brightens, and purifies the whole region around, sending love, kindness, and unfailing cheerfulness wherever it flows. Blessed among women is the wife of such a one! It matters not how unpropitious may be all else that can surround her, the consciousness of so safe a resting-place will lighten toil, and bring pleasure out of pain. CHAPTEE IF. THE BRIDAL TEIP. left our young friends, rather unceremo niously, at the beginning of their bridal tour, to make some grave reflections, which they, at least, will deem entirely uncalled for. A letter or two, from Mary to her mother, will give the particulars of her journey. "PITTSBURG, Sept. , 18 . " DEAR MOTHER : "You doubtless received my short note from New York; and I now employ my first leisure moment, in this city of coal and smoke, to give you the history of our journey thus far. " We went by railroad across New York State ; my first experience with the iron horse you know. I had felt somewhat timid when I thought of trying this, to me, unusual mode of travelling. Johnny will remember some lines purporting to be the defiance of this fiery Bucephalus : 44 FBOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Tetter me strong with your iron bands, Be sure of your curb and rein ; For I scorn the might of your puny handg, As the tempest laughs at chains. " "Well, after thus throwing the gauntlet in the face of all travellers, my impression was, that I shouldn t feel at all sure of the curb and rein. I didn t wish George to suspect me of such folly, for 1 imagine he would be a good deal mortified, if his wife supposed herself at liberty to start, and scream, and show off many of those little fancy airs, which wiser brides than I pretend to be, are sometimes accustomed to consider a part of the honeymoon privileges. " Having guessed this much of my spouse s character, you must know I had for many days been laying up a large stock of fortitude and courage for this very journey. " But isn t it too provoking, dear mother, to have made all this preparation for nothing ? Perhaps I may thank my noisy, frolicksome brothers for a large share of my self-possession ; for I really doubt if the huge black nondescript, that flew with us, over the road, is capable of making more unearthly sounds than I have often heard in and RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 4:5 about my own loved home. At any rate, I flatter myself, George never once thought I was a novice in railroad travelling. " I did, indeed, wince a little, when I first heard the hideous shriek of the steam- whistle, and again, when composedly reading, in broad daylight, I found myself, of a sudden, in Egyptian darkness, I involuntarily caught hold of George s arm. To be sure, I recovered instantly, and meant to have passed it off as a love token, but the ingrate gravely remarked : Don t be alarmed, Mary, we are only passing through the tunnel. So I perceive, I demurely replied ; and as we began to catch glimpses of sunlight, I slily glanced into his face, to see if my ruse was successful. Imagine my vexation, when I saw that curl of the lip, and roguish twin kle of the eye which I have so often enjoyed when others were the occasion of it. I think after this, I will make no pretensions to more than I am capable of sustaining ; certainly not for some time, at least. " My husband, however, has to-day been maneu vering to pass himself off in my eyes as a deep thinker an exceedingly absent-minded man and, in truth, he so nearly succeeded that I shouldn t like % him to repeat the experiment. 4:6 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " We changed cars at the station, where we dined. During these changes, everything, to the uninitiated, is perfect confusion ; and, as trains are passing in all directions, there is danger that the verdant traveller should make a mistake, and, crab-like, go backward. " George, therefore, charged me to remain just in that place. ISTo matter what running to and fro I might see, I was not to stir from that window till he had looked after the baggage, when he would be sure and come for me in season. I obeyed his direction, literally, like a dutiful wife. " After a short time, from the window where I stood, I saw a gentleman take a seat in a train that seemed all ready to start, and deliberately com mence reading a paper. Surely that is George ! Why didn t he come for me ? Yes, it is ! No mistake about that. Well, I needn t worry. He told me on no account to leave this window, till he called me. But there is the bell ! Gentlemen are calling for their wives, mothers hurrying across the plat form with their children, and he remains immov able. If I should be left! I can endure it no longer. I hastened to the door : c George ! I couldn t forbear smiling, even then, at his look of ABSENT-MINDEDNESS. 47 utter dismay. The cars began to move. With one bound he gained the platform, and, aided by the conductor, succeeded in swinging me on board ! "We both sat very still for some minutes; I shan t tell you in what words he apologized, but if he ever laughs at me about my unlucky qffec- tionateness, when passing through that tunnel, I shall, assuredly, remind him of his attempted desertion of the wife of a week. "He says it was absent-mindedness. But how do I know that he did not intend leaving me there, in the wilderness, without money, clothes, or friends? At any rate, I mean to lay it up as a weapon of defence. May I not, mother? "Soon after we had finished talking over this little incident, the conductor came to examine our tickets. But an instant before, George had left my side. 4 Ticket, madam! I looked for my husband, but not seeing him, replied, The gentleman with me has it." " < What name ? Miss Leighton. He looked carefully through the list of passengers on his book. c I don t see any such name did I under stand aright? Miss Leighton, sir. c Ah, yes, Leighton well, let me see, and again his eye 4:8 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ran over the names. It was becoming very annoy ing, for the attention of the passengers was drawn toward us. I can t find it ; and this time there was a touch of incredulity in his tone. "Will you please see if you can find the name your self, madam ! " Of course I took the book in the most con fident manner, and I dare say, with a look of injured innocence. Up and down all those lines my eye wandered, but no Miss Leighton was there. The letters ran together the names began a wild fantastic dance over the pages I saw a storm gathering in the conductor s eye I raised my head to meet the worst, and there stood that most inveterate of all teases, suffocating with merriment. He came forward at this crisis, and taking a seat by my side, said, f If you will look for Mrs. Herbert instead of Miss Leighton, you will find it all right. The lady is not quite fami liar with her own name! " This is a specimen of the life I am to expect, I presume. "Well, my dear brothers have given me some lessons beforehand. "I must close this long letter, I have wearied you all, I fear. I kept on writing, with little of WRITING HOME. 4:9 interest to tell, just because it seemed eo like talking with you all once more. " Good night, and blessings on you all, my own loved ones. George unites in love. "You shall hear again as soon as we reach the end of our journey. " Ever yours, lovingly, "MARY HERBERT." " GLENVILLE, Sept. , 18 . " MY DEAREST MOTHER : " You will see by the post-mark that we are home at last. How strange to speak of any spot, but Hill Farm, as home ! " I have little of interest to tell connected with our journey from Pittsburg to this place, or rather, that which was exceedingly interesting to me, I might not be able to make so to you. I have, to tell the truth, been a little ashamed of my last epistle, and imagine I hear father say, c Pshaw ! does the silly girl suppose that these little honey moon adventures will have the same charm to the c old folks at home, c that they have to her. Excuse it, this once, dear father. I m the min ister* s wife now, and you ll see how grave 50 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. I shall be; at least I hope you will. I haven t become so accustomed to my honors as to feel quite sure that I shall wear them with proper dignity. ""We arrived at this place about noon, and were met by one of George s elders, Mr. Blake, with whom we are to board for the present. I was so well prepared by my husband s descrip tions, that I was not greatly surprised, when we picked our way from the wharf to the house through mud and over pigs; but my first impression was, that we should find these two articles, the staple commodity of this far-famed region. " The village is on the banks of the river, and certainly can boast of but little beauty, though I ought not to judge till I have seen more. " Most of the houses are low, brown cottages many ranking no higher than log-cabins. Our host s dwelling is a pretty, two-story white house, with a fine veranda in front, but built too near the road, and with but a few shade-trees. He is a man of wealth, and abundantly able to live in more fashionable style. " But he has married a frugal Yankee girl (he is himself of Dutch decent), and both agree, I pre- OH ! THE MOSQUITOES. 51 sume, in preferring comfort to gentility. There I agree with them, though I can t quite under stand why her eastern education has not made her feel the necessity of a few more conveniencies. But that is not my business. I ought rather to be learning how to do without many things, which I have been accustomed to consider indis pensable. " Should we ever attempt to keep house, it will be on a very small pattern. That gives me no uneasiness however. I flatter myself, I could find considerable amusement in contriving to do with as little as possible. " Last night was my first real experience of the torments which the mosquito is capable of inflict ing. You know brother Robert used to tell long yarns about them ; but I always suspected him of a slight exaggeration. I beg his pardon, most humbly, now. I am well paid for the injustice I did him, however; verily, the half was not told me. If you could only see me ! Face, neck, and arms are speckled and swollen out of all resem blance to my former self. And to-day I am to receive calls from our parishioners! They will not accuse their pastor of marrying for beauty. 52 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. that s certain; but of course they will presume it must have been goodness which captivated him. Alas! for the time when they discover their mistake ! " And here they come. Oh ! how I dread these first introductions. " Evening. The day is over at last, and I am at liberty to converse a while with the dear home circle. " I judge we must have received calls from nearly all who will come under my husband s care. And such a variety, I would not have believed to belong to one country. "The most grotesque styles of dress; the funniest and most uncouth mode of expression ! But I will not allow myself to criticise these trifling peculi arities. They are our people] with whom we are to be associated for years may be for life in whose well-being we must feel the deepest inte rest. "I shall soon become accustomed to all that now strikes me as singular. I hope to make them love me, and am sure it will be no hard matter to love them in return. " There was one old lady, in whom I am already NEW FEIEND8. 53 greatly interested. She reminds me, dear mother, so much of your father, in person ; and I much mistake if she has not many of his mental excel lences, only she lacks the cheerful, joyous look he always wore. I am confident she has a history worth hearing. Her face is very pleasant to look upon ; but there is a subdued and saddened expres sion about her, that speaks plainly of suffering, or heart-trials. She is very kind and lady-like in her manner, and I already feel more drawn toward her than any one I have seen since I left you. " Another quiet, gentle lady, with three pretty daughters, pleased me greatly. Her husband is a Methodist class-leader, but taught by his wife, I presume, he is very liberal in his feelings toward other denominations. I m sure I shall love Mrs. Gilbert. But I was sorry to see indications of very feeble health. Indeed, no one thing has struck me BO unpleasantly, as the pale, sallow, unhealthy-look ing people I have met, so far, since I came here. I have not seen one clear, rosy-cheeked person, such as we meet constantly in New Eng land ; and yesterday, before my face was so disfi gured by the ravages of the mosquitoes, I was 54: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. asked several times if I had not a ( fever spell upon me, because my cheeks were so red ! " Among those presented, were several who will teach me caution, I imagine. At any rate, I felt that they came to spy out the land, and make reports. But such persons are common every where ; and I presume, on further acquaintance, I shall find many lovable qualities, even in them. " Just before tea, I walked with George and Mr. Blake as far as our church. It is a small, un- painted building, capable of seating about as many as the c school-house near the church at home. It certainly has no architectural beauties, externally, or adornments, internally, to distract attention from the word spoken ; but, nevertheless, it may be quite as likely to prove the c very gate of heaven, as many of our splendid eastern churches. " I must close, from fatigue, for, aside from unpacking trunks and c putting things to rights in our little room, and receiving many calls, I have been very busy making a net, to protect us from our enemies to-night. It is a common arrange ment here, but I am quite dubious about it. I fancy I shall prefer, out of two evils, feasting the MOSQUITOES. 55 little savages, to being smothered. It makes me gasp for breath, even now, to think of becoming a prisoner under this curious affair. " Good night. George unites in warmest love. " Most affectionately, " MARY HERBERT." CHAPTEE Y. PREPARING A HOME. ME. and Mrs. Herbert have now fairly entered upon their labors. There was much in their situa tion to perplex and dishearten, but they came prepared for it all, and found their courage rising as difficulties met them. The church was but a handful, composed chiefly of the poor and illiterate. The wealthy, and more intellectual class of the population were attendants on the Methodist church, that being the fashion able denomination. This little church had almost died out; and when Mr. Herbert was first re quested to supply the pulpit, neither he, nor those who invited him, had a thought of its being but for the one Sabbath. But he was full of life and freshness, and possessed of a mind of no common order. His manner of preaching was something original. It woke, them up. They were not quite prepared to decide whether it was lest to be so 50 THE NEW PEEACHEK. 57 thoroughly aroused. It was not exactly comfort able ; but at any rate there could be no great harm in trying it once more. The next Sabbath the little building was crowded, and many, from other churches, were present. There was no longer a doubt The satisfaction was general ; and all, even other sects, felt that a man like the new preacher would be a public blessing. But could he be induced to settle over so insignificant a church ? They would give him a " call," at all events. The invitation was ex tended to him ; and, although his friends were anxious he should look higher, yet his own judg ment told him, in such a community, a large work could be clone, and certainly few places needed it more. Beside, the unusual interest manifested by all classes would seem an indication of Providence, that this was to be at least his first field of labor. And thus the matter was settled, and he has come, with his young bride, to cast in his lot among them. Their church could only offer a very small com pensation, and it was so inadequate to their neces sities, that it was deemed advisable to board for the 3* 58 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. present, and even then, it would be difficult to tell how they were to get safely through the year. But Mrs. Herbert was sajiguine. There were many ways, she was quite sure, by which she could help eke out their scanty means. She had no false pride about laboring with her own hands. Her early training, at Hill Farm, had prepared her phy sically, for just the position she now held j and most heartily, as every day s experience disclosed some additional necessity for energy and industry, did she bless her mother for the ability, which she felt confident of possessing, to meet the emergencies before her. Let me pause here one moment, to offer a few words for the serious consideration of those who have a Home Missionary s life in prospect. I have known and seen much of the sufferings and trials, which await the wives of those who go out to our new States to preach the gospel. Let any one, who contemplates such a life, be sure that his chosen companion has health and strength for the task, and, withal, a domestic education, fitting her for the labor, which cannot be avoided. If she has not all these, the attempt to occupy such a field is throwing life and usefulness away, MISSIONAKT LABOR. 59 None can tell, but those who have been tried, now soon the strongest constitutions droop before the difficulties and hard labor incident to limited means, in the generally unhealthy climate of our new States. I could point to many, many graves where rest true-hearted wives, who came, willing and anxious to aid their husbands in spreading the Gospel, but whose strength failed before the first few years of hardship and disease. A more correct public sentiment is rapidly spreading over the whole country, but at the time of which I write, a clergyman s support was con sidered as charity in western life, and the small, very small amount promised, was not always paid. That " the laborer was worthy of his hire," none pretended to deny, but a parson wasn t one of those meant by that passage. " "What labor can there be in dashing off two sermons on Sunday, and making an * off hand speech two or three times during the week days. And surely it is no hardship to run round and sit a while with the sick. A wedding and a funeral now and then can t be any great labor. Why, for my part, I think the preachers have a real easy time of it. And then the parson s wife, I can t see why shfl 00 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. shouldn t milk the cows, and split the kindling- wood occasionally, and do the housework as well as my Betsey." Ah, yes ! if that were all ! But who remembers that added to all that "Betsey" does, the minister s wife must be out among the people, or they will find fault. She must head the Sewing Society and Maternal Association, and preside at the Female Prayer Meeting, be " at home " to calls, at all hours of the day, and of the most unmerciful length, from the very ones, perhaps, who will go away and wonder that Mrs. s floors were not cleaner, or her work out of the way in better season ; or " did you see that hole in Mr. s coat ?" " Yes, and Carrie s dress wanted mending sadly, and "Willie s hands and face were really dirty. How can Mrs. l>e so careless f" And they know at the same time, that there is no hand but hers to do these things. How is she to do them, if each caller stays an hour or more ? If a lady calls at ten o clock on a minister s wife, who does her own work, because she has not the means to hire it done can t she recollect that a dinner is to be prepared that, possibly, while she sits idly chatting, the bread may be growing sour or burning. When is the HEAD SICK AND HEAET FAINT. 61 floor to be scrubbed, or the work done, or the ragged coat or dress mended? Look in after ten o clock at night, and you will see her finish ing off the large wash, which you so thought lessly delayed ; or still later, with aching head and weary frame, repairing the worn garments you so cruelly criticised. No wonder that the head is sick, and the whole heart faint, and at length, she, who only a few years ago came among them, fresh and hopeful, is laid to rest by the side of many who have been as needlessly sacrificed ; or, what, to a sensitive spirit, is worse than dying, her husband is compelled, in order to save her life, to abandon a field of great and increasing useful ness, and remove her to her native land. But Mrs. Herbert s heart was strong and hope ful, too fully engrossed in present labor, to indulge in dark forebodings for the future, and no leisure, to afflict herself by imagining what trials it might possibly bring. Elder Blake and his wife, with whom they con tinued to board, were exceedingly attentive, and with their charges there could be no complaint. They received them into their house from kind ness, and not with the hope of gain. Still Mary 62 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. was quite confident that, could they once manage to meet the first expenses of beginning, they could, in a home of their own, no matter how humble, live even more economically, and the necessity for the most rigid caution, was becoming more and more evident each day. Mr. Herbert fully agreed with his wife on this point ; but how could they raise the needful for the first, absolutely necessary, outlays. That was a problem which they could not solve. But Providence settled that question for them, about three months after their arrival, very unexpectedly. Mr. Herbert was absent at a Presbytery meet ing, when circumstances made it exceedingly desirable that Mrs. Blake should resume possession of the room they occupied. Mrs. Herbert could pro cure no other boarding-place, and, therefore, " a necessity w r as laid upon them" to commence house keeping immediately, and Mary at once devoted herself to the novel labor of " house-hunting," and before one day expired, found it a much more laborious undertaking than she had anticipated. Houses, and parts of houses, were plenty, but the rent was so far above their limited means, that there was no occasion for a moment s deli- HOUSE-HUNTING. 63 beration. She wearied herself going from house to house, looking into all imaginable and unim aginably filthy places, called tenements, but the same difficulty extended even to these. Her ideas of what must be had, were becoming more and more unpretending, with each new trial, until she was satisfied that anything under cover, which would protect them from rain and cold, and give place for a bed, stove, and her husband s books and study-table, would be gratefully received. "When hope was nearly exhausted, she was told one morning of some empty rooms, in the second- story of an old ungainly house, which might pos sibly be obtained. The lower story was owned and occupied by one of Iheir church members, who, out of kindness to his pastor, would be inclined to place the rent within their reach. Mary hastened to examine, and if practicable, arrange for imme diate possession. One of her letters to Hill Farm, will give a more graphic description of this week s trials and experience, than any effort of mine could do. " GLENVILLE, Nov. , 18 . DEAK HOME FKIENDS : "You will be surprised to learn that we 64: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. have relinquished our boarding plans, and are really settled in our own home the most impro bable of all events, when I last wrote. I can hardly realize now, that it is anything more than one of my day dreams. " Shall I go back a few weeks and give you a short history of my ( life and adventures ? "Circumstances which they could not control, made it necessary that Mr. and Mrs. Blake, with whom we have been boarding, should have pos session of the room we have occupied since we came. George was from home when Mrs. Blake gave me this information, and I saw it was im portant for her, that we should make some change, as soon as possible. Both Mr. and Mrs. Blake have been exceedingly kind a brother and sister could not have been more so. "No other boarding-place, within the limit of our means, could be procured, and I commenced at once the new work of c house-hunting. I imagined it would be a very easy, and rather pleasant occupation ; but I assure you, long before night, I changed my mind. "Tenements were plenty enough, but the rent was far above my comprehension. A house, I PERTINACITY DESIRABLE. 65 supposed, I must have of course. A small one, to be sure, but how could we do without a kitchen, dining-room and parlor? Two chambers and a study were accommodations absolutely necessary. " There was, however, a change of several degrees in my estimate of the must haves, long ere I had finished my second day s search. I returned to my room wearied and perplexed, but by no means discouraged. You know, dear father, how often you have teased me for the pertinacity with which I always held on to a plan, or idea, and many times, I doubt not, it has been something of an annoyance to you, and perhaps other friends, espe cially, w^hen my train of thoughts or wishes was at variance with their own. I certainly have always been accustomed to look upon it as a fault in my character. But that night could not the king sleep. As I lay thinking and planning, the thought flashed across my mind perhaps that very tenacity of thought and purpose, which in my girlhood-days, seemed an undesirable trait, may after all, help to carry me through many a strait place, and I suspect, if it le a characteristic needed for my present position, I shall find full employ ment for it all, and perhaps by it be able to add to. 66 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. instead of detracting from, the comfort of those I love. "You would smile, dear mother, if you knew how much this self-congratulatory train of thought comforted me in my perplexities. So much so, that I concluded to defer any further attempts at reformation, till I had, at least, obtained a dwelling- place. After that I will take the matter again into consideration ; but there is something so very refreshing in imagining that a youthful defect may, in riper years, be transformed into a most important and valuable quality, that I may not find it easy to return to my early, and more hum ble estimate of myself. "I will not ask you to pardon this digression, for I please myself with the idea, that those to to whom I write, will like best to feel that my thoughts come to them, just as unconstrainedly as they would if I sat in your midst. " After many hours careful thought, I came to the conclusion that I was altogether too aristo cratic, in my notions. Why had I not learned that a more primitive mode of house-keeping was, by far, the most desirable ? The less room I had to care for, the more time I should have to be out SATISFACTORY IMAGININGS. 67 among our people, and to cany out many plans, formed for helping George in various ways. Of course I must do my own work, and I would keep my kitchen so nice, that he would not object to taking our meals in it, especially, if I should be so fortunate as to find a place with a little shed attached, where I could put a stove, and do my rough work. Then the bed-room could be used for a study. A parlor and spare room would com plete the list. Oh! yes, four rooms were all I could ask. Indeed, I rather thought I wouldn t have more if I could! This conclusion was a great relief, and pleasing myself with imagining how carefully the rooms were to be kept, and what a pleasant spot I would make it for my hus band, I slept sweetly the few hours that re mained for rest. " The next morning I consulted with kind Deacon Blake, as to where I should be most likely to find that which I now sought. I could see plainly that he was pleased to find that my own judgment had decided on less room than I, at first, considered indispensable. Forty dollars per year, was all I dared to appropriate for rent ; and oh ! mother, if you could see all the places I looked 68 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. into that weary day ! Why, father s cattle would refuse to occupy them, till they had received many repairs; and yet no four, of even such rooms, could be obtained for forty dollars. " When I returned to my boarding-place, I was { fully persuaded in my own mind that my stick- to-a-tiveness, as Harry used to call it, was no fault, but one of the cardinal virtues, of which, I began to fear, I had not more than half enough ; for I must own I retired to rest, as nearly discouraged as I ever remember to have been in my life. " As I was preparing to renew my search the next morning, Deacon Blake informed me, with some hesitation, that perhaps Mr. Dudley could ac commodate us with rooms over one of his buildings. I saw he was rather doubtful as to their being desirable, but I was very i /tumble by this time. " My paper warns me to close, and, like some of our fashionable periodicals, I will leave you in the midst of my story, and give you a rest till my next, which shall be forwarded as soon as my household cares will allow. " With love ever bright and steadfast, " Your affectionate child, " M. HERBERT." LETTER TO HER MOTHER. 69 "GLENYILLE, Nov. , 18 . " MY DEAREST MOTHER : " Of course I imagine you all impatience to learn the finale of my adventures, and I am quite as anxious to give them, that you may sooner be able to picture to yourselves our present situation. " I went at once to Mr. Dudley, and found the rooms had for a long time been used, simply, as lumber rooms for the store adjoining. They were in the second story, Mr. Dudley s family occupying the main building. He doubted if they would suit ; but here w T as the key ; the lumber had all been removed, and I could examine for myself. The rent would be forty dollars. " I was glad to make the survey without wit nesses ; and, taking the key, I mounted the stairs. They were low, and easy of ascent. That was encouraging, at any rate, "With a beating heart I entered, and closing the door, stood in blank dismay, in the middle of the room. "Were these dismal, horridly dirty rooms to be our home ? No, no ; never ! and my first impulse was to leave, without a second look. But if not here, where was I to look for anything better? I had hunted, faith fully, every part of the town, and this was the only " FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. spot I liad found that I could, with, any justice, think of appropriating. It would do no harm to examine these rooms carefully, and endeavor to think calmly, and decide honestly, uninfluenced by what others thought indispensable, or what I had been accustomed to think so. ISTow was the time, if ever, to follow my dear mother s example, and look only on the bright side. " The first room was quite large ; but, oh, so filthy! But, patience, a good scrubbing-brush, plenty of soap and water, and a strong arm, aided by a cheerful, willing heart, could make wonderful changes in a few hours. The walls were bare, smoke-stained, and smeared with tobacco; a few coats of whitewash could cover all impurities. The floors were uneven, and badly spotted. We could not think of carpets ; but surely Mr. Dudley would paint the floors and repair the broken hearth. " There was a good closet in one corner, and a cupboard in the other. That was certainly a com fort. " Things were looking brighter. I passed into the next room. It was of the same size, but so immeasurably dirtier, that the first became, by DISMAL PEOSPECTS. 71 comparison, quite passable. But I must compel myself to hope, that the same remedies of patience, scrubbing-brush and soap, would hide a multitude of sins, 3 even here. " A better hearth than the first room could boast, with an opening over the mantel for stove-pipe a closet, with shelves covered with a combination of stains and dirt, which no chemical skill could have separated or analyzed, and a rickety sink, might, by a stretch of imagination, be classed un der the comforts, in this forlorn survey. However, the two other rooms may be in a better condition. I will not allow my courage to fail, until I have seen the whole. But where are they ? " There was, indeed, a door in the back room, but it was nailed up, and peering through the key-hole, I found it opened into the lumber loft of the store adioinins;. V O " The hall through which I entered into the two rooms under deliberation, divided them from Mrs. Dudley s chambers, and there could be, of course, no other apartments in this story. FOUT rooms had appeared so absolutely necessary, that I had never imagined it possible to do with less. But others, it seemed, had thought two might be made 72 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. to answer. Here was a good opportunity to ex amine my high notions (an expression I had acci dentally heard used of myself, only the day before), and see if they were capable of further pruning. " In no enviable state of mind, I paced to and fro many times across this very Dismal Swamp, earnestly endeavoring to see in what way I could contrive, by the utmost exertion of Yankee ingenu ity, to make such a den inhabitable, or two rooms at all sufficient for comfort. If it was only for my- selfbut pride and affection both rebelled, when I thought of my husband. I did feel that he deserved something better ; and cramped and uncomfortable apartments seem so much worse for a man, than for a woman, especially if he is one whose occupa tion calls for mental labor, that my whole soul re volted. But rebellious thoughts were at once checked by the perpetually recurring question : It not here, where else can you turn ? " I paused a moment to look out of the window, hoping, gloomy as was the prospect within, there might be cheer and amusement in the outward sur roundings. But wretchedly muddy streets, lined with very common-looking business houses, were all the comfort that the front view presented. The OUTWARD SURROUNDINGS. Y3 rear opened into a back yard, quite spacious enough for a handsome garden. But no such blessing met the eye. It was a dirty yard, full of mud-holes, with bits of staves, old barrel hoops, broken crockery, worn-out brooms, strips of scrub- cloths, pieces of shoes, brimless hats, and every description of rubbish or lumber, scattered all abroad. A large well, with an old-fashioned curb and windlass, stood in the centre. The yard itself was a kind of court, inclosed by tenement houses on three sides, into which the spouts of all the sinks of both upper and lower stories emptied. The fourth side was barricaded by an old and much dilapidated barn, and beyond this court well, we won t speak of the ( Five Points looking lanes beyond ! " Was not this cheering ? I was glad to turn back again to the interior. One more look, and with a sigh I descended, and asked Mr. Dudley for the refusal of the rooms, till I could consult my husband. " I then alluded to the repairs, but was told that for our sakes, he had placed the rent so low, he could put no expense upon the rooms. So I returned to my boarding-place (which never looked half so 4 74: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. pleasant before), to make arrangements to go to George, the next morning. He was at a meeting in a neighboring city, the one where he had finished his preparatory education, and had been absent two weeks. The captain of a boat, which passed daily between Glenville and that place, would, I knew, cheerfully give me a free passage to my hus band. A sleepless night, and the sail up the river, the next morning, gave me abundant time for un disturbed meditation. " My chief anxiety was that George would object, peremptorily, to the thought of such an arrange ment, and by the time I reached the city, I had contrived so many ways by which the rooms could be improved, that now to abandon the idea, would have been a real disappointment. Beside, /knew, as lie could not, without passing through my last week s experience, how hopeless was the attempt to find anything more desirable. My courage had risen with that knowledge and now the hope of bringing light out of such darkness, and ordei from such confusion, was quite exhilarating. " My husband was greatly surprised when he saw me, and you may be sure, still more so when he learned my errand. The thought of but two BEICK WITHOUT STEAW. 75 rooms did not trouble him in the least, and his opinion of the capabilities of any one trained by you, dear mother, is BO exalted, that the extreme filthiness of the place gave him no uneasiness. " i But, my dear Mary, said he, what are we to do for the furnishing ? I have no doubt but you will make two rooms, or even one, a pleasant home, and am quite sure that all under your care will be sweet and clean ; but, great as is my confidence in your abilities, I cannot believe that even your inge nuity can make " brick without straw," or procure the simplest articles for housekeeping with an empty purse. "My husband s brother Frank, and his bride, were with us, listening with much amusement to our conversation, and he said, laughingly ; " Ah ! George, you have asked a question, now, which my hopeful sister will find some trouble in answering. Will you not, Mary ? " It is a strong argument against the arrange ment I advocate, I acknowledge ; but the change proposed is not of our seeking. There is a "neces sity laid upon us." "We cannot find a boarding- place. We cannot live in the streets we must not embarrass ourselves with debt. 76 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " But, " where there is a will, Providence will open a way." If we strive to help ourselves, and are content with the most simple accommodations, I am confident God will assist us. I confess I do not see how, as yet, very clearly ; but am so sure of it that I sincerely believe we ought to go for ward, " nothing doubting." : " It would be wicked to throw obstacles in the way of such faith and courage, said our kind brother. < Allow Kate and myself to aid you in taking the first step. Who knows but it may pre pare the way for a second. "We would be most happy to present you with a cooking stove that being a very important article in house-keeping ; unless you prefer the more primitive mode of making your coffee boiling your potatoes frying your ham and feeding your pig all in one skillet, as I have often seen done in these regions. But our gift is encumbered with one proviso, which may render it valueless. " f Name it. I do not fear to accept any condi tions our kind brother can make. " ( You are rash, sister dear. But the only return I ask is that my wife and I shall be your first invited guests whenever your plans are fairly completed. LIGHT AESAO. Y7 " { Oh, thank you thank you. The visit will only increase our indebtedness nothing, not even the stove, could gratify us more, for you know sister Kate and myself are almost twin sisters. " Well, Mary, one step is taken. Let s hear what is to be the next, for your tell-tale eyes assure me you see light ahead ; though I confess, I cannot. find my way one inch beyond brother s stove. " c To whom do the few articles in the room you occupied in the seminary, belong ? a A hearty laugh was my first reply. " c Oh, sister Mary, did you ever go into that room, said Kate. c Have you the faintest idea that those things can, by any skill, be made useful? A woefully infirm table, three chairs still worse, and one, I believe, minus a leg, for I tried it once to my sorrow, and the bed P " i If, said my husband, laughing, c it has been in the room ever since I vacated it, I ll engage it is already claimed by occupants, whose name is Legion, and the mattress is far more unfit for use. Except my bookcases, or rather boxes, there is no one thing in that room that can be good for aught but kindling-wood, else I should not have left them there. You may take my word for that, my dear. 78 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " "No, no, George, not even your word should deter me from trying what can be done. If I had faith to see those rooms which I have told you of transformed, I need not doubt but we shall be able to purify anything. If you will engage your old washwoman, to take the articles into the Seminary- /ard, and do her best toward cleansing them, I will try to perfect her labors myself, when we get them to Glenville. Capt. James has promised to land all we may wish to send, and ourselves, at the wharf, close by our home, without charge. Thus, you see, this may prove another step, and if you will be willing to purchase the stove to-day, which Frank kindly offers, and hasten our arrangements as much as possible, I imagine we shall find our light shining brighter and brighter, as we proceed ; I long to show our good brother and sister how short a time it will take to make your old things look c ain maist as weel as new, and also to convince them that it takes but a very, very little to make a pleasant home. " c But, sister mine, said Kate, what are the prospects for crockery, beds (for your treasure is only a single bed), kitchen utensils, etc ? " c I ll, show you, replied my husband, taking out his purse, and holding up fifty cents. A YANKEE TRADE. 79 " f As Mary has made arrangements for our pas sage home, she shall have what was to have paid mine, toward her house furnishing. That s every cent in prospect, for six weeks to come. Say, May bird, have you a magic ring, that will mul tiply this little bit of silver into gold, or bank-bills, sufficient for our present need ? " In reply, I laid into his hand thirty dollars in gold ! "What a look ! " Where in the wide world did you get this, Mary, and how ? " l Honestly, my good husband, if you will allow me to answer your last question first, for you look very much as if you feared I had been pilfering. You must not look grave, however, when I tell you all about it. You know, I have never used the handsome cloak father gave me, just before we left New England. My shawl and travelling cloak are more in keeping with our pre sent means. I know father would rather I sold it, for a good price, than be in debt for a moment. Mrs. Turner wanted the cloak, and I wanted the money, so we swapped. How could a Yankee help it when so good an opportunity offered ? 80 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. And now, my good sister, do you not see that we shall do " excellently well?" "We were to dine at Gov. Koberts , an old and tried friend of George s, and Frank insisted that we should stop and purchase the stove on the way ; which we accordingly did, to the entire satisfaction of all concerned. "At the dinner-table, Kate entertained our friends with some account of our morning s dis cussions, and, though I did not think of it at the time, I suspect the kind-hearted girl had a benevo lent object in view, for on leaving, Mrs. Koberts took me up to her attic, saying, she wished for the pleasure of lending a helping hand, and gave me a bureau, a pair of brass andirons, shovel and tongs, with which, said she, <I began housekeeping, more than forty years ago. "My heart was so full I could not speak. All the darkness and uncertainty fled from before such unexpected kindness, and, like Joseph of old, I wished for some c place where to weep, for very gladness. ISTor was this all. When we parted, my kind friend said, Let me claim a mother s privi lege, and advise you to rest the remainder of the INCREASING- RICHES. 81 afternoon, and leave all other arrangements for to morrow, because I think Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Reeves (two ladies who dined with us, and old friends of George s) are intending to send you a package in the evening. It is possible it may con tain some things you would think best to purchase, were you to go shopping on your way back to your brother s boarding place. " There was little danger of our doing much in that line, but I felt her kindness none the less, and left her with warm thanks and love. " As we passed beyond the gate, Frank smilingly inquired : c "What could have transpired while you and good Mrs. Roberts were up-stairs ? Your eyes were so full of tears, as you returned, 1 should have suspected you had been annoyed in some way, were it not for the smile on your lips. So I hope you have taken step number three, toward our visit. You see how selfish I am. " I informed them of my increasing riches and also that Mrs. Roberts would send them all to the landing, on the morrow, and perhaps meet us there, to say good bye. " The articles from the other ladies to which Mrs. Roberts alluded came, just as our lamps 82 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. were lighted, after tea, and our good friends would have had no doubt of our appreciation of their kindness, could they have seen the pleasure with which they were examined. " There were two good woollen blankets, a new comforter one white spread, and a pretty patch work. Two pairs of sheets and pillow cases, two table-cloths and half dozen napkins and towels. A half dozen knives and forks. Some German silver spoons an old fashioned Britannia tea and water pot, in excellent condition, and quite neat in style a pair of plated candle-stick snuffers and tray, etc. etc. " Yerily our cup runneth over, and we, surely, shall not want for any good thing. " When the survey was completed. Sister Kate remarked, c I must say this looks exceedingly like an early invitation to Glenville and I shall be all anxiety, to see you on board to-morrow, that you may expedite your renovating, and purifying plans, and thus hasten our advent, for I shall not rest till I see this new home, and judge for myself of your success. " I will not linger longer, my dear friends. It is all so new and interesting to me, that I forget MAKY FRIENDS. 83 that 1 may be making my narrative very tedious to you. In my next I will but give you a few more items and introduce you to OUT home, " Till then, farewell, " Lovingly, yours always, "M. HERBERT.* CHAPTEE VI. AT HOME. OUR friends found Mrs. Roberts at the boat when they reached it, with a large hamper of groceries tea, coffee, sugar, and spices; several jars of sweetmeats, a box of butter, some hams ? soap and starch, etc., just for a beginning; and as she said " good bye," she left a note in Mary s hand, which, on opening, contained twenty-five dollars, and these words : " A love-token, from one who has long esteemed you for your husband s sake, and is now sure to do so for your own." "Who ever felt so rich as our young couple? They had written and engaged the rooms the day before, and on landing went at once to see them, and take the preparatory steps for cleaning and furnishing them. Mr. Herbert was evidently not prepared for the worst, and had no faith that any labor could make them decent. But it was now too late for repin- 81 PREPARING- A HOME. 85 ing it was Wednesday morning, or rather almost noon, and they were determined to be " settled " by Saturday night. Brushes, soap and whitewash were procured, and they both went to work " with a will." The gen tleman was, at first, a little awkward in the use of the brush, but Mary found him, on the whole, a most able and docile pupil. They went over the rooms many, many times, before the most disgusting stains could be oblite rated. But patient industry can accomplish won ders, and soon the walls began to look almost white, and the wood-work disclose the original color of the paint. " If we could only get this floor painted it would save us time, and much hard scrubbing." And George determined to see Mr. Dudley, and endea vor to persuade him to have it done. "No." " Well, then, we will do it ourselves." " No, no," his idea was that floors were injured l)y paint, and he never allowed it on any of his tene ments I "Never mind," said Mary, when her husband told her the result of the application ; " there is this comfort, it will be growing better all the time, 86 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. and I doubt not, a few weeks care will make it quite white and free from stains. A carpet now, would be quite an institution; but, as we can t have one, we ll just imagine that carpets are as injurious as brother Dudley considers paint to be." "Well, it is Saturday morning, all must be in order by noon, that the young housekeepers may sit down to their first meal in their " own hired " rooms, and feel that there is nothing to interfere with the enjoyment of the Sabbath. Mr. Herbert s books have been carefully dusted, their cases washed and polished, and he has arranged them, while Mary, with various kinds of purifying lotions, has been busy over the college articles, in the back yard. The old mattress had been taken to pieces, the hair carefully washed and picked, a new tick pro vided, and the whole reconstructed by good mother Reed, in whom Mary had been so much interested at her first interview. A young carpenter had volunteered to repair the broken chairs, and fur nishing Mrs. Herbert with the material, she had varnished her simple furniture herself. The last touches have been given, and the young wife puts on a neat wrapper and prepares the table THE FIKST DINNEK. 87 for dinner. Friends from among their people have so bountifully supplied her with all manner of food, that she will have little opportunity to display her own skill for some days to come. She carefully surveys her table when all is ready, her smile betokening great satisfaction, and then throws open the door into the front room, where her husband, having finished his task, stands, with glistening eyes, admiring its tidy and already homelike appearance. He meets her as she enters, and passing his arm fondly around her waist, whispers, " My own Mary, can this comfort able abode be the same we looked upon not four days since 3" But we will step aside and leave Mrs. Herbert to describe its present appearance : " GLENVILLE, Nov. 28, 18 . " MY DEAK MOTHER : " If you could only look in upon us now ! It is our first evening at home? George is before his study table preparing for to-morrow s (Sabbath) duties, and I sit at one side, with so much to tell, yet almost too happy to write. "You have not forgotten my description of 88 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. these rooms, as I first saw them and I want you to bear it in mind, as I proceed. I closed my last letter with the account of our finished arrange ments to leave the city, and return to Glenville." (It is not necessary to repeat, what has already been told so we drop that part of the letter and begin with her description of the present appear ance of the place.) " And now, my dear friends, please follow me, once more, into this front room. Make yourselves perfectly at home and use your eyes as freely as you choose. No fear that I shall consider it impertinent curiosity. " "Where shall I begin to show you the glories of my house. "With its chief joy, I think my hus band. Look at him, my mother as he sits in that comfortable study-chair his whole mind intent upon the subject before him. May I not be proud of him, if I hide it deep in my own heart where none, but the dear home friends, can see it ? Is he not one to lean upon, and trust in every emer gency ? May I not be assured that all my imper fections will be met with kindness, gentleness, and forbearance ? So far, it has been so, even beyond my wildest hopes and who can look at him, and THE STUDY. &9 fear any change ? "Will it not be easy to encounter trials and deprivations, or rather will they not cease to be such, in the endeavor to create a happy home for him ? " But I must not forget politeness to my guests, or linger by his side, just now. " How do yon like this study-table, Harry ? . Is it not just the thing! I varnished it myself, and covered the top with that nice, black cloth. Almost too good for the purpose, do you say, dear mother ? But do not accuse me of extravagance. It is not new nor is it the i skirt of Saul s coat ; but a piece which I found in my husband s dilapi dated wardrobe. " And what think you of this new fashioned bookcase, fastened to the back of the table? It is a discarded dish closet, which the last occupant of this room had thrown into the back yard, as utterly worthless. George nailed together the broken parts and painted it, and now I think it looks quite stylish. " The long boxes made expressly to pack books in when Mr. Herbert first came "West, to finish his education have been well scoured, varnished, and now, set one atop the other, open side out 90 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. and filled with the books purchased by his own labors while in college, make, I am sure you. will say, very imposing bookcases. " In the middle of the room, you perceive, we have a few yards of cotton carpeting, which were found in the famous bundle given us, by the kind friends, of whom I told you in my last. "It is not ornamental, but will save quite a good deal of scrubbing. " A simple, stained bed-stead, comes next in order, with its husk mattress, and pillows of the same material (feathers, you know, are enervating but this is cool and healthful), and the pure white spread, give it quite a genteel air, which last is of marvellous importance to our peace of mind. " Next, dear kind Mrs. Roberts bureau all that we need, and with containing powers of almost unlimited capacity. A fifty cent glass is quite large enough to show us our faces once a day and being a little hazy and uneven, we shall have 10 temptation to a needless expenditure of time. " That pretty, simple, work stand, in the corner, dear mother, is a present from George ; bought with the little gold badge of his college society MUCH IN LITTLE. 91 " These large, bright andirons, shovel and tongs, are almost too magnificent, beside our other furnishing ; but we are grateful for them, notwith standing, and should miss them sadly, if they were withdrawn, not only for their usefulness, but because they remind us so much of the dear old parlor at Hill Farm. " A clock, two plated candlesticks, snuffer and tray, and a brass lamp, which has lighted my hus band s studies ever since he was in college, are our mantel ornaments, and four new wooden-seated chairs and a pine dining-tablc, complete the list of the furniture in this, our principal room. In the cupboard, may be seen a neat set of white ware (not ample but answering all our wants and leav ing some spare pieces for such guests as can be content with few changes), a Britannia tea and water-pot and our German silver spoons. The little closet, behisd the study table, has abundant room for my small stock of bed and table linen. "This room, you will perceive, is parlor, study, dining-room, bed-chamber, and anything else we may find it necessary to call it. " Let me introduce you, now, to the adjoining apartment. yz FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " And first, brother Frank s gift, our stove, with all its bright tin furnishing ; second, the despised college and seminary bedstead, in the far corner, shining with fresh paint and varnish, and rejoic ing in a new, or rather, a clean mattress. I have put some curtains around it, of fourpenny calico, which was, with other blessings, in Mrs. Robert s basket. It looks like a simple curtained bed, does it not ? Look behind the curtains and learn what it is, when not put to its legitimate use. By the garments pinned to that strong band around the top, you perceive it can be converted easily into a wardrobe, for clothes-closets are not fashionable here. On the bed, are the bonnet and hat-boxes, clothes-basket, etc.; and underneath, our trunks, packed with such articles as are not for immediate use. " "Now, say you ll remain with us through the night, and see how quickly these articles w^ill be folded and placed in the basket, and put with the trunks out "of sight and the bed prepared for ourselves, while we give you possession of study, parlor, and bed-chamber. Surely no guest can wish for more ample accommodation. " The closet for kitchen utensils ; the three old chairs, made new by paint ; the sink, with a new KITCHEN AND CELLAR. 93 leg and spout, the cracks filled with putty and neatly painted, and a cover which can be buttoned back, when the sink is needed, or let down and used as an ironing or bread board, at suitable times these need no explanation. But can you guess what is hidden in this angle of the room, under a curtain of that same cheap calico ? Look ! overhead, a wooden bar is nailed, as you perceive, across which are hung a saddle, bridle, buffalo-skin, and a pair of saddle-bags, which have been given my husband for travelling. (Don t look for the horse there, Johnny; George must borrow that when he goes to Presbytery meetings.) Under these, on the floor, you see a barrel of flour, one of potatoes, washtubs, clothes-boiler, and a box of soap. Garret, cellar, and store-closet all in one. Who can be so unreason able as to ask for more room ? Not I. " Tims, my dear ones, we are fairly at housekeep ing, provided with everything necessary for comfort, and a few dollars left in the purse, to make us feel independent. WQ have now "begun life for ourselves. How much toil, sickness, and sorrow are before us, it is well we cannot foresee, and it would be folly to make the attempt. "We have only one day at a time to live, and with cheerful courage, unswerving y* FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. love and confidence in each other, and trust in God, we can, surely, meet all that each day brings. Therefore, dear mother, do not be anxious for your children. I cannot, nor can you, expect my life will be all sunshine ; but I do believe, if I do my duty, I shall find quite as much of real happiness as those whom the world calls rich. "We shall this evening send our invitation to brother Frank and wife, for I long, exceedingly, to show them how pleasantly and comfortably we are situated. " Good night. With earnest love for you all, Early the next week, the brother and sister made the promised visit. Mrs. Herbert was an entire stranger to all her husband s family ; but the ex tremely pleasant interview with these two friends, while making their present arrangements, had prepared her to expect great enjoyment from this reunion. And four happier persons the sun seldom shines upon, than are now gathered in this neat and simple home. The brothers are congenial spirits, knit to gether, like David and Jonathan, in the strongest BROTHERS AND SISTERS. 95 affection. Frank is taller and more slender than George, with less appearance of robust health ; but still, the resemblance between the brothers is very striking, in character as well as personal appear ance. Both are heartily devoted to the work in which they are engaged. Both exhibit, in a very uncommon degree, great earnestness and manli ness, with almost womanly delicacy and gentleness. A combination rarely met with, but exceedingly precious when found. Never was there a greater contrast than the sisters Kate was considerably above the medium height. A fine figure, easy and dignified manners, and glossy black hair, sufficient to wrap her as in a mantle, fine open brow, eyes black as night, beau tifully tender in her softer moods, but flashing grandly, if wrong was to be redressed, or a noble deed performed. Highly educated, and nurtured in affluence, she will be an invaluable, intellectual companion for her husband, more so than Mary, but probably not as capable of patient endurance, or physical exertion. Mary s figure w r as larger, and not so graceful 01 dignified, and her educational advantages had been far inferior. She was inclined to grieve over this, 96 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. fearing that she might not prove, in all things, such a wife as her loving heart believed her husband must deserve. Her ardent desire for a thorough education had caused her to place, perhaps, too light an estimate on domestic qualifications, while she imagined that talent, and a high order of in tellect, were indispensably requisite for a clergy man s wife. Her hair was of a dark chestnut, folded neatly round a well-shaped head, with a low brow, blue eyes, and clear, rosy complexion. As her husband marks the affectionate greeting, and loving earnest ness, with which she receives her guests, his eyes rest tenderly upon her, and no one can doubt, but he, at least, is abundantly satisfied. " Why, sister mine," said Kate, as she was placed in a most comfortable easy-chair, " this is altogether too luxurious. I thought there was to be nothing but the simplest and most absolute necessaries. I fear I shall be obliged to lecture you upon extravagance, at the very beginning." "First hear my defence, most gracious lady. You are seated in that old arm-chair, found in my husband s bachelor sanctum, which you assured me was only fit for burning. George has made a THE BBOTHER S VISIT. 97 high back to it by nailing on a board, and I have stuffed it into shape, and covered it with an old dress, too short for me, found in that inexhaustible basket of mother Eoberts. Am I acquitted, madam?" "Most fully," said Kate, rising. "But don t think I am going to sit still, before you have shown me all over your premises." "That will not occupy much time," replied George, opening the door between the two rooms ; " but, I doubt if you will find more true comfort in the abodes of wealth, or more grateful hearts than are contained in these two homely rooms." The survey was made, great pleasure expressed, enlivened by many sportive and affectionate re marks, and then Mary excused herself to pre pare for dinner. These " simple annals " may prove tiresome to my readers, and perhaps I linger foolishly; but there is something inexpressibly sweet in recalling incidents connected with the earlier life of these four young friends. Yery dear were they all to my heart, and many times, in after years, have I seen Mary s care-worn face light up with almost the freshness of its bridal bloom, as she recalled 5 98 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. for lier children the pleasures of her earliest experi ments in house-keeping, and these narrations always closed w r ith the assertion, that no part of her married life was so distinctly fixed in memory as that first visit from Frank and Kate. Life, to those who then assembled around that neat and generous board, was full of most cheerful anticipations. They knew that sorrow and disap pointment were common to all ; but why need they dread them, while hoping to labor and endure to gether ? " Sorrow and disappointment" were vague terms to them in these bright days. It takes experience to give them a definite meaning. Happy are those who do not seek to understand the future, till the Providence of God unfolds it, and at the same time gives the strength and grace to endure what ever it may bring. CHAPTEE VII. SOME three months have flown rapidly away. Lit tle has passed to disturb the quiet happiness of our friends. A few trials, such as are common to all faithful pastors, have fallen upon Mr. Herbert, but in general, his labors have been uncommonly ac ceptable, and his audience so increased, as to make the little church uncomfortably full a state of things unknown before. Some have held off to see whereunto this will grow a few prophets of evil affirmed that two or three months more would suffice to exhibit all the new preacher s "college learning " and then "but the community, as a w r hole, were satisfied that Mr. Her bert would become more and more popular and useful as months pass by. Mary, of course, found her share of trials more, perhaps, than her husband of those little things 100 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. which sting like nettles, and yet make one ashamed of the consciousness that such trifles have any power to vex or annoy. It is a curious fact, that fault-finding parishioners are generally too cowardly to attack a clergyman himself, and therefore when they wish to show their displeasure and punish him, they contrive to do it by throwing trifling vexations in the way of his wife. But, if the husband, either through misjudged, or unguarded friendships, or through fear of his people, is ever tempted to listen to these petty words of censure or complaint from others, then woe be to that wife ! It is an evil which creeps upon a man insidiously, but it will never theless undermine all true happiness, and, when once admitted, there is no escape in life. The grave is the only refuge from the sorrow which will surely flow from it, and happy is she who in such circumstances, is early permitted to repose therein. In the present case, however, while each main tained full confidence in the other, there was little danger of serious harm from such attacks. Mary soon learned that it would be impossible for their salary to support them, even with the most rigid economy. That their church did all they could, for the present, they had no reason to doubt. VISIT TO MKS. REED. But some way must be devjsed to add a least, to their means. She had not uninterrupted leisure sufficient to teach, even if the place could furnish pupils, without withdrawing them from those who needed the income still more than they did. Sewing was the only way opened, and to that Mr. Herbert, at first, resolutely objected. Not long, however, for he could not but see the neces sity for it, and, before spring, they were indebted to his wife s nimble fingers, for many com forts. She would have grieved had her mother known that her longed-for home letters, were often detained in the office till she could earn the twenty-five cents (postage at that time) with which to release them, or that she had sewed late into the night, to procure their dinner the next day. This last, not often, however, for provisions were, for -the most part, abundant, and fabulously cheap. One stormy afternoon in February Mr. Herbert came home and asked his wife if she thought it would be safe for her to venture out to see Mrs. Reed, who was considered dangerously ill. Mrs. Herbert made no delay in preparing for the walk, for their first acquaintance had matured 102 , V : tfKoii TDAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ihft/ strong affection, and the fear of losing this dear friend was exceedingly painful. They found Mrs. Eeed rapidly sinking, and Dr. Strong, who was present, felt that she would pro bably pass away before morning. She had long been feeble, though she never complained ; but was ever busy for herself or others. Mr. and Mrs. II. were greatly surprised, therefore, when the physician informed them that he had known for months that she was in a hopeless condition, and she had also been fully aware of it, herself. Mrs. Herbert decided, at once, to remain and watch with her friend, and the patient sufferer s look of affectionate gratitude, was reward sufficient, had any been needed. After a prayer, her hus band returned home, leaving her to make such ar rangements as were necessary before Dr. Strong left. The house was a miserable concern, and very des titute of comforts. Passing from the dingy and poorly ventilated sick-room, to the little shed, used for a kitchen, Mrs. Herbert was startled, almost be yond her self-control, by some dark object stretched before the door. Hastening back, she quietly beck oned the doctor outside. "What is that? "she THE WORTHLESS HUSBAND. 103 whispered, fearfully. He bent over tlie object " Oh, Pshaw ! that s only old Reed, come home, as usual, drunk as a beast." " "Why ! Dr. Strong, you astonish me. I have always supposed Mrs. Eeed was a widow." " Oh, no. If she were she might have been very differently situated. I understand, now, why the poor woman has failed so rapidly. He has, proba bly, just returned from one of his longest tramps, to wring from her more of her hard earnings. No wonder you thought her a widow. He leaves her, months at a time, and only comes back when he can no longer obtain money elsewhere to waste in debauchery. He has been gone now more than a year, and we all hoped that he would trouble her no more. The villain ! he deserves hanging. But you, my dear madam, must return to our patient, or she will be troubled at your absence. I will mean while get some one to assist me in putting this mis erable being aside for the night, where you will not be disturbed or alarmed by him." " Poor Mrs. Reed !" said Mary, " when I first saw her, I thought there was an aching heart hid den beneath that gentle, subdued demeanor." When she returned, she perceived that Mrs. 104 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Heed understood her motive, in calling the doctor out ; but not a word w r as spoken, alluding to it, till all directions were given for the night, and they were left alone. Then, taking Mrs. Herbert s hand, the invalid drew her to the bed-side, saying : " Sit close by me ; my voice is fast failing, and there is much that I wish to tell you if my strength will permit. If not taxing your kindness too severely, I desire to give you a short history of a sad, and very eventful life ; it may help you to do good to others, when I have passed away. " I was an only child the cherished idol of my parents ; reared in affluence, with no thought that a wish of mine could pass ungratified. " I was but sixteen when I met Charles Heed, at a dancing party. Oh, could parents realize how much of sin and suffering originate in such assem blies, they would surely devise some less danger ous amusement for their loved ones. The simple act of dancing is as sinless as any exercise can be ; it is the associations formed, the delirious excitement of music and the dance, and worse than all, the stimulating beverage so lavishly provided, that unfit the young for exercising discretion or judgment, or resisting temptations, which, in a calmer moment, AN UNSAFE ASSOCIATE. 105 amid the holy safeguards of home, would have no power to harm. "I knew that Heed was not one whom my parents would countenance ; but his person was faultless, and his manners far more attractive and polished than any young man s in my native place. He was poor, but that would have had no weight with my parents, had his habits and morals been without reproach. " When first introduced to him, I knew that the community looked upon him as a gay, unprincipled man ; but what harm could there be in conversing or dancing with him at a party, where the amuse ment of the present hour was all that was wished or intended ? " Young Reed was exceedingly popular, and in great demand at all the social gatherings among the young people, because of his remarkable ability to enliven and entertain his associates, and my parents knew that he was always present at all such amusements. It was ONLY IN THE QUIET HOME CIRCLE, where the mother s love and father s watchfulness are ever vigilant, to protect the young and innocent from danger, that he would have been refused admittance, and felt to be an unfit companion. 5* 106 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " I will not linger. Enough we met often in pulilio places, and soon my judgment was no longer consulted my heart alone spoke ; and oh, how wildly I loved that man ! Had I not been infatuated, I should have indignantly discarded him forever, when, after winning an acknowledgment of my affection, his first request w T as, that I would consent to a clandestine marriage, fearing, as he averred, a refusal from my family on account of his poverty. But, thank God, I was saved that sin ! My parents, when consulted, earnestly, and with great tenderness (but too late !) warned me of the danger, and entreated me to relinquish all idea of such a union. But, though I could not deny that my lover had been addicted to intemperance, gam ing and other vices, yet I assured them he had most certainly reformed (in the short space of three months) and my love was to save him from a relapse ! "At length, with sad hearts, and many tears, my parents yielded, as my health was failing under their tender opposition, and we were married. " My father furnished a house with great elegance, and placed a liberal sum in my husband s hands, that he might at once commence business free from all embarassment and with no temptation to go astray. TJNMASSED. 107 " Oil, how soon was I roused from my dream of bliss ! Too impatient of the restraints he had sub mitted to for some months, to endure them after the victim and, alas ! that for which alone he val ued her, the fortune was in his power, my hus band cast aside the mask the moment the marriage ceremony was solemnized. " We left immediately for our bridal tour, with the promise of returning in two weeks, to take pos session of our beautiful home. That home, fur nished with so much care by my fond parents, I never entered, and from the hour my mother clasped her only child to her breast, in a tearful farewell, and my father, with quivering lips, blessed the young bride, I have never seen them ! Thirty-five years of, oh how much sorrow and anguish ! " On our wedding-day, my father placed my for tune into my husband s hands, I having resolutely rejected his desire to settle a part of it on myself, and can you believe such depravity possible the house and furniture were disposed of to pay " debts of honor," even before that day a private bargain, not to be disclosed, or take effect, till after we were gone! "ISTot for one day our wedding day did he, 108 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. who had vowed before God and man to love and cherish me, retain the semblance of kindness. I was hurried South, and strictly watched by himself, and a creature of his will. All trace of our resi dence was carefully hidden from my parents, and for years we never heard, each of the other. When, at last, my fortune was all squandered, I w T as com manded to write to my father for another supply, and my obedience was insured by the promise, that if a certain sum was made over to my husband, I should, as soon as he received it, be allowed to leave him, and return to my precious home. The conditions were most joyfully complied with, on the part of my parents : but I was kept a closer prisoner than before. " The next I heard, was of my parents loss of property and death. My father had impoverished himself, at a time when all his available means were greatly needed, to meet a business crisis, in the vain hope of rescuing his child from a most cruel fate. The double failure broke his heart, and my gentle mother was laid to rest by his side the same week. " When these facts were ascertained, and there was no longer, a hope of obtaining pecuniary aid through me, Mr. Reed brought me here, and left CHRISTIAN FORGIVENESS. 109 me destitute. I had no means to go home and why should I wish to go, when those whose love consecrated the home, were not there to welcome me?" Exhaustion and excitement compelled Mrs. Reed to interrupt this painfully interesting narrative, and, for many minutes, Mrs. Herbert stood over her friend, using every exertion to prevent convul sions, or fainting. "When she became more com posed, Mary begged she would make no farther attempt to continue the history, till after a night s rest. "With a sad, but very expressive smile, she replied : " Dear Mrs. Herbert, it must be told now, or never. I have but little more to add. Let me speak while I yet have the ability. "For years I supported myself, and trusted I should be left in peace. But whenever* he is on the verge of starvation, he returns, and despoils me of everything that he can dispose of. For the last ten years I have earnestly endeavored to lead a Christian life, and during that time have stiiven to forgive my husband for all the misery he has wrought, and also to reclaim him, if that be pos sible. It is this earnest desire, dear Mrs. Herbert, which has induced me to confide to your keeping 110 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. a history, wliicli should, otherwise, have been buried with me in the grave. I see great changes in this miserable man since his last return. His health, by so long a course of dissipation, has at length been entirely destroyed, and I do not feel that he can live long. You have been very kind to me, and to none, since I left my father s house, has my heart turned so lovingly, as to you and your noble husband. It seems cruel to requite all your at tentions by this legacy of care and sorrow, and yet, dear friend, his soul is as precious as our own. Will you and Mr. Herbert watch over him, and try to lead him out of darkness into light, when I am gone ? I see you shrink from it. His cruelty to me makes the thought repugnant. I can say little more. Life is fast ebbing faster than I thought but I must plead with you, for him still. Kemember, great will be your reward." " I accept your charge," said Mrs. Herbert, "most willingly. All that we can do to reclaim one so near to you shall be done. But do not talk of dying. My heart clings to you as to a mother in this strange land; and though I am ashamed to speak of trials, after your painful story, yet some there are, and more will follow, when I shall need THE WELCOME MESSENGER. Ill your kind sympathy, and just such advice as, your long experience has prepared you to give. Our little church cannot spare you. You will soon be better, and God will give you to us, and all who love you, yet many days." But even while she spoke, a strange shadow had settled on this dear friend s face, and her voice was broken and faint as she replied : " No, my child. I have long expected this, and am, I trust, prepared, and more than willing to depart, and be with Jesus. The light of another earthly Sabbath will never shine for me, but I go to a brighter world a perpetual Sabbath. To the land of peace and rest to the holy Father, whose hand has led me by a way I knew not to the blessed Saviour, who died that I might live. The footsteps of the welcome Messenger are even now on the threshold, the songs of the redeemed are ringing in my ears, angels are beckoning me, and the spirits of my earthly parents are saying, c Come up hither. I come. Farewell, my daughter. God ever bless" Mary sprang to her feet, and bent over the dying woman. Her eye beamed with a glorious light, speaking joy unutterable. One smile, borrowed 112 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. from the angels hovering near her, and the patient, uncomplaining sufferer slept in Jesus. With a strength not her own, Mrs. Herbert calmly closed her eyes, straightened the emaciated limbs, and folded on her breast tl^pse ever busy hands, whose " labor was now all o er," and then knelt by the bedside alone with the dead. "When Mrs. Herbert rose from her prayer, it was still too dark to go for assistance, and she saw the necessity of acting by herself. Doubtful if in that poor abode things needful could be found, she opened a bureau, and carefully examined the ward robe of her friend. She was turning away, unsuc cessful, when, at the bottom of a drawer, she noticed a parcel, folded in a napkin of the finest damask. In this she found all the usual habiliments for the grave, snowy white, and prepared with the utmost neatness. The style of the articles, and the quality, impressed her at once with the certainty, that these were the remains of her bridal outfit, hoarded through all her poverty and deprivations, for this solemn occasion. There was something so sad, so touching in the thought, that the self-control, which had not wavered through all this trying night, for sook her, and she wept like a child. A DARK PICTURE. 113 Alone, in this noiseless midnight, did Mary array the poor, worn body in these mementoes of former affluence and withered hopes. Sadly and tearfully, as she arranged each garment, did her imagination fill up the brief history she had that night heard. Oh, it was a dark picture ; but how many thousand just such are in our midst ! Hearts are breaking all around us daily won by loving words, which cost the speaker nothing, to be thrown away, as fickle fancy changes, or the gold, for which the words were spoken, is squan dered in "riotous living." Oh ! we must not speak too confidently of woman s equal strength with man. The Jiead may be, and no doubt often is, fully equal, but there must be a weak spot in woman s heart , or we slibuld not be so often de ceived by those oily speeches, despairing glances, and vows of undying constancy, which have made so many of the best and noblest of our sex, the patient victims of man s arbitrary power. We must learn to distinguish the ring of the true gold from the " base alloy " (for, thank God, there are true, constant, loving hearts to be found among the IdgJier powers) ; or, if deceived, prove that wo 114 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. have strength to cast the traitor from us forever, or consent to be called the " weaker vessel" As day dawned, a step outside alarmed Mrs. Herbert, and hastily closing the door, she passed from the room, dreading to meet the wretched being she had that night vowed to watch over, and seek to lead toward peace and heaven. But it was good Dr. Strong, who, with an un usually excited manner, inquired "How is Mrs. Beed?" "At rest!" " Thank God she is spared one sorrow. Her husband has but now breathed his last, raving in delirium tremens. May I never witness such another deathbed. His face, foreshadowing the torments of the lost, is still before me, and I feel as if I could almost hear their weeping, wail ing and gnashing of teeth. And the kind-hearted physician shuddered. " Then come with me," said Mrs. Herbert, " and I will show you such a contrast, that as you gaze you will imagine that you hear the angels, who, with songs, and everlasting symphonies, bear our departed mother safe to the c happy land. J: The next day was the Sabbath, and after giving A SEEMON. 115 notice of the death of this mother in Israel, Mr. Herbert preached from Rev. xiv. 13 : "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, from henceforth. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." He spoke of the various answers one would re ceive, who should inquire among men, " Who are the blessed ? " With the Brahmins, it would be, he who is an nihilated. " With the Mohammedan, he upon whom Houris wait. "With the Indian, he who reaches the great hunt ing grounds -, where success and victory are sure. "And even among civilized, Christian communi ties, there is a wide difference in men s opinions of the meaning of true blessedness. " With one, wealth is the key by which to gain an entrance into the desired haven. " Another feels that he could be truly blessed, if the eyes of an admiring world were to follow his efforts. That would be the height of his am bition. "Another longs for Pleasure to enwreath his brow, and place her sparkling cup to his lips. 116 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. u But ask of God, who truly knows and sees all things from the beginning, and he replies : " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord? "The righteous dead rest from temporal care and spiritual labor for Zion, and for sinners. They are no longer uncertain as to the grand issue of their probationary state. They at once and forever rest from sin, and the temptation to it. " They are united to God. They see him as he is, are constantly in His presence, instructed by His lips, and led by Him through eternity in pro gressive steps of holiness and happiness. "Their example remains, to win sinners and com fort saints. Their prayers, yet to be answered, their conversations and entreaties for children and friends, remain in God s hands long after they are gone, to be used by Him, for the conversion of those for whom they labored while on earth. " Think of the friend who has now gone from us. "Will her deep interest in the cause of religion in this church her faith and trust in God her meek ness and humility her charity to the faults of others, and her unwearied benevolence, ever be forgotten, by those of us who have been so pleas antly associated with her ? SHE HAS HEK REWAKD. 117 " Will not, then, her labors of love live after her, continually bringing forth, fruit which shall follow her to that blessedness upon which she has entered ? There is hardly a roof under which she has not been found, on errands of mercy or kindness, by night and by day. I call upon you to notice the superiority of goodness over everything else in society. I think more persons of every class were wont to visit her humble residence, than any other in this place. And why ? " Was it for wealth f She had none. " Was it for flattery f She always spoke plainly, and always spoke the truth. " It was the loveliness of a true Christian character which drew all to her. She has her reward, and angels now love, whom we loved. We have sus tained great loss, by that which was her unspeak able gain. Imitate her, dear friends, so far as she imitated Christ, and God give us all to meet her about his throne." This is but a feeble outline of a sermon which was not soon forgotten. GHAPTEE VIII. A WELCOME GUEST. IT is a soft, lovely night in June. The little village of Glenville sleeps as calmly, wrapped in its moon light mantle, as though no sorrow could find its way into so peaceful a scene. But there is no rest in the pastor s abode. Anxious faces are around the bed. Pale as marble, Mr. Herbert tenderly wipes the drops of agony from the sufferer s brow, speaking words of hope, which his own heart scarcely believes, and the unconscious Mary does not recognize, as the terrible convulsion shakes her frame. " Oh, mother ! mother !" The first words she has uttered for hours, and the strong man bows his head upon her pillow, in anguish of spirit. "What would he not give if that mother were only there to comfort and direct ! Hours pass unheeded but at length, hearts, well-nigh hopeless, were cheered 118 LITTLE SUSIE. 119 by a favorable change. Consciousness returned, and as the sun rose over the town, bathing the green hills of Kentucky with floods of glory, little Susie Herbert opened her blue eyes upon a strange, new world, and her father s glad heart went forth in gratitude for the precious gift, and still more for the mother, spared to bless both father and child. The first two weeks after the birth of the little one, were filled with uncommon suffering, increased, and in part caused, by the inexperience of the kind, but very unsafe nurse, who had volunteered to re main with Mrs. Herbert till she was once more able to take charge of her family herself. Proud and happy in the new relation of father , George forgot his dislike to letter-writing, and com municated the tidings to the friends on both sides, in a series of amusing, and most graphic epistles. The child was a wonder. The mother, beyond all praise but the nursel If I could but obtain the description of the good lady, as sent to Mrs. Leighton, it would stamp this little narrative with immortality forever. At the end of three weeks, Mrs. Herbert con cluded to try the experiment of resuming the labor for her family, fearing that if her good-natured, but 120 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. very untidy attendant, remained longer, she should have a second edition of house-cleaning, worse than the first. Taking advantage, therefore, of ner husband s absence for a fortnight, she signified her intention of "pitching into it" as Miss Polly elegantly expressed it, and they parted the best of friends. Polly, perfectly satisfied that Miss Herbert never would have " picked up so cheery " had it not been for her successful nursing, and Mary, equally cer tain that nothing need ever annoy her after living through these three weeks. Susie proved herself a jewel of a baby a happy little pigeon, cooing or sleeping night and day and her mother thought that she should find time and strength to have everything in order and home like, before her husband s return. She had been moving about some time, and was beginning to feel that if " the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak," when good old Mother Morton came in to see her. "Now that s just what I expected," said she. "I saw your woman pass with her bundle, and says I to Martha Ann, I ll run round to the minis ter s awhile, for I m thinking Polly, good soul, has not left things as nice as she found them. Miss UNEXPECTED AID. 121 Herbert will have hold of the scrub-brush before I get there, I ll venture, and that won t answer, no how. You see now, honey, I m eenmost as good at guessing as your Yankee folks, for here you are, all pale and trembling, and I ll warrant have done more than two women s work since she left. She s a good creature, and no one means better ; but she ain t neat, it must be admitted, and may be she isn t to blame for that. We all have our gifts and graces, you know. But, dear soul, you just give here that cloth and brush now." " ]STo, no, dear Mother Morton, you must not do this. I have been working very slowly, and will stop now and talk with you." With a loving smile, Mrs. Morton put her two stout arms about Mrs. EL, and tenderly laid her on the bed, by the baby. "There, keep still, and watch these little blue eyes. Tain t often that I meddle with other people s business, but I don t exactly feel that I am doing so now. You ve left your mother and home, to come off here with Mr. Herbert to help do good, and twould be a shame if some of us old bodies didn t watch over you a little. Mother Keed thought 6 122 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. * heaps on you, and with good cause, and there are others who maybe think as much." " We haven t a great i chance of money, but we ve got hands a deal stronger than your n. Now see how soon I ll have some of Miss Polly s grease-spots out," and while her words flowed steadily on, the brush was not idle. A noble-hearted woman was Mrs. Morton, and Mary knew and appreciated her worth, and under stood also, that in no other way could she make her kind friend so happy, as to allow her to carry out the wishes of her benevolent heart. So she fond led her child a few moments, and then dropped gently to sleep by its side. Mrs. Morton came and stood over the sleepers, silent and sadly, while the tears rolled freely down her furrowed cheek, and at length she passed softly into the next room. " Poor thing !" she said to herself; " it makes me a child to see one so fair and delicate come to wear out and die here. She is full of courage, and not a bit proud; but preachers is poorly paid, and their wives work hard and break down soon in this climate. Somehow I wish I could just take that THE LOED WILL PROVIDE. 123 woman and her baby, and put her back into her mother s arms. But Mr. Herbert wouldn t thank me for that, and I m sure we couldn t spare her ourselves. "Well, the Lord will provide. * Mary woke quite rested and surprised to find that it was nearly noon. Mrs. Morton had done wonders toward obliterating the spots and stains of the last weeks, and was tying on her sun-bon net, ready to leave. " Why did you let me sleep so long, dear Mrs. Morton?" " "Why didn t you sleep longer ?" said she, laugh ing. "JSTow just you keep quiet; or, if that s ask ing too much, take your sewing. I m going to run home a minute, and then come back and invite myself to dinner. Martha Ann is going to spend the day with a cousin, and I ve a nice little chicken, and a lot of green peas and some biscuit, I reckon about as good as your mother could give you. So I shall bring them over, and we ll eat them to gether." "Without waiting for thanks, she hurried away, and soon returning, began to prepare the table for their dinner. " At least, let me help you now," said Mary. 124: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " No, no. Keep quiet. I see you ve been look ing over bills and papers, and are sober and troubled. Don t let these things vex you. Money matters always do get into a snarl when a body is sick ; but time and patience will cure all such things." " Close economy, and no little hard work, must be added, to complete the cure, I imagine, my kind friend," said Mrs. Herbert, smiling, " and I am in tending to call you in as my consulting physician." " Well, well. Let s leave business alone till we ve had our dinner, and perhaps that may put a little color into those pale cheeks, and give you more strength to arrange matters ;" and soon a most in viting meal was placed on the neatly-laid table. " If Mr. Herbert were only here, now, this would seem quite homelike. I feared some of the time Miss Polly was w r ith us, that my good husband would famish ; and yet, with all the discomforts of the past three weeks, these bills show that our expenses have been double that of any two months of our previous housekeeping." " I can easily believe that. It s common talk, how nicely our minister and his wife contrive to live on almost nothing. How do you do it ? And how did you manage, as unwell as you have been A CONSULTATION. 125 this winter, to do all your work yourself, till the very day baby was born ?" " Oh, it s because I have such a capable husband. He can make a bed, sweep, wash dishes, make cof fee, cook a steak, and .make better bread than half the housekeepers in the land. u But now I want to consult you. "We can never get along with as little as we have done. By tak ing in sewing all winter, I was enabled to lengthen many a short place, "but -with little puss good as she is I foresee I can do little beside our own sew ing, and, indeed, I think sewing so steadily injures me." " That I am sure it does. Dr. Strong says he only wonders it didn t kill you." " "Well, what do you think of my renting the whole of this house, and taking a few boarders? Mr. Dudley moves to-morrow into his new home, and has offered to let me have the whole of this tenement, for seventy-five dollars per year !" " Why, that is not double what you pay for these two rooms alone, and it is four times as large. What does it mean ?" " Just this, I imagine, Mrs. Dudley has been a true friend ever since w r e have been here, and 126 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. couldn t well help seeing that it was pretty close work to make our quarterly payments. I presume she has been using her influence with her husband for our benefit. " Shall I accept the offer ? I must decide to-day, for I know Mr. Dodge wants the house, and has offered a hundred dollars for it." "If it were not for the hard work you will bring upon yourself, poor dear, I would say accept at once, for you ll never have so good an offer. But what will Mr. Herbert say ?" " He will be sorry for the necessity, of course, and perhaps, at first, be reluctant to admit that any such necessity exists ; but he can t well fail to see it after looking over these papers," said Mary, laying her hand on the pile of bills. "And beside, if I get all nicely moved, and everything in order, with the boarders on hand, what can he do lut submit, and be, for once, the dutiful husband he boasted himself to be, the last time you saw him." " Well, you and Mr. Herbert beat all, for taking everything merrily. Eut let me tell you, if this thing must be done, you will allow the old woman to help you move, and in any other way A FETEND IN NEED. 127 she can. But you aint going to Lave any boarders till you are a sight stronger than you are now." " Oh, yes ; if I take the house I must make it pay at once ; and my maxim is, the more people use their strength, the more they ll have." " Well, I don t like it a bit ; but if it must be, I can secure you four good boarders for next Mon day ; you shan t have them a day sooner. There are two ladies and two gentlemen I wish I could find all gentlemen ; for every housekeeper knows, their business calls them out so much, it is less trouble than boarding ladies ; but these are all I know of now." " Thank you, thank you ! what a comfort you are to me ! And will you add to your favors by telling me if there is any place, short of the city, where I can rent second-hand furniture with little expense. Of course, it must be simple. We have only the furnishing of these two rooms." " I was wishing to speak of that, but feared it might seem too bold; now, however, I will tell you. Before my man died, we used to board our prentice boys ; but now there is no one but Martha Ann and myself ; I have a { heap of plun der dumped down in my garret. It s plain, but 128 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. comfortable, something like what you have here. If you ll use it till I call for it, and make no words about it, I shall consider it as a favor." Mrs. Herbert " made no words," but putting her arms round the kind lady s neck, kissed her most affectionately, and I doubt not, it was a more valu able return to her than money could have been. The next day Mrs. Dudley moved out, and gave up the house to Mrs. Herbert. A few moments after the keys were handed her, Mrs. Morton walked in " Well, here s the housin -stuff ; are you able to tell us where we are to place it ?" " Why, but dear Mrs. Morton, don t the rooms need cleaning, before putting anything into them?" A hearty laugh was the reply. "I know you are thinking oh dear! these Hoosiers don t understand how to do anything, neatly." " Oh, no. There s no fear I should say that of you, at any rate, after having once seen your home. But I only thought it would be so much easier cleaning while the house was empty." " Sartain ; and Mrs. Dudley s had a woman at work with me all day, scouring each room as fast as her things were taken away ; and tis all in ANOTHER VOLUME. 129 order. I was * despi t feared you d find it out, when we were at work in the room opposite." Mrs. Herbert s thanks may be imagined, and also all the planning and contriving, between the two ladies, till their work was done, and well done. The next morning, Mrs. Morton sent the gentle men, and came soon after with the ladies, to make all arrangements requisite to their becoming mem bers of the pastor s family. It was decided that they should make their appearance at dinner on Monday noon. "When this was settled, Mary felt that she had opened another volume in life s history, and longed for her husband s presence, that they might begin it together. A week elapsed before his return, and then, though he feared the burden would be too severe upon his wife, he could not fail to see a necessity for some increase of their means of sup port, and this, he hoped, would be less injurious than such constant application to her needle had been. A year passed quickly by,l bringing cares, labors, and anxieties to our friends, as to others, but far more of peace and true happiness, than all the luxuries wealth can give, or than generally falls to the lot of mortals. 6* 130 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Loving messages from Hill Farm were very fre quent, and Mary s bright and hopeful replies were filled with amusing pictures of their home life, and glowing, mother-like descriptions of little Susie the pet and plaything of all. Meanwhile, Mr. Herbert s talents and efforts be gan to be more widely known and appreciated, and occasionally Glenville was thrown into a fever of excitement by rumors of " calls " received, or to bo received, from some of the most important points in the State. The people of his charge were begin ning to look upon him as their own, and felt it little less than robbery, to seek to take him from them. A lot had been bought, and plans were on foot to build a larger church, with a house near by for a parsonage. Other denominations had pledged assistance, and the pastor s salary was to be in creased one hundred dollars, with the promise to make it still more liberal another year. At this crisis, a pressing invitation was extended to Mr. Herbert, to remove to a neighboring city of considerable importance, and take charge of a new enterprise in that place. The invitation was at once rejected; again repeated, and a second time refused. A third application, still more urgent, was enforced THE DECISION. 131 I by such strong arguments, for a more careful con sideration of the matter, that he dared not dismiss the question without consulting his older brethren in the ministry. How anxiously did the little church wait for that decision ! Petitions were signed from all classes and all denominations. The parsonage was besieged with those who came entreating, with tears, that they would not forsake them, until both Mr. and Mrs. Herbert were half sick with the excitement. The first Sabbath after the synodical consultation, Mr. Herbert was obliged to make their decision public How many trembling hearts were as sembled in the dear little church on that bright summer morning ! The house was crowded, when the pastor and his wife entered, and one glance at their pale, sad faces was enough. A sob, almost a groan, passed through the congregation. The prayer and sermon was a most excellent prepara tion, for what, al] knew, they must hear replete with tenderness and love, making his people ready to cry out, "how can we give him up?" and yet convincing them that nothing but the sternest con viction of duty could have persuaded him to a separation. 132 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. * ft After the sermon, M.i\ Herbert announced his decision formally, and told them frankly the steps by which he had been led, and explained the rea sons why his brethren felt that he ought not to hesitate. They were such, and so strong, that even his sorrowing people could not gainsay them. He was to remain some weeks longer, and would do all in his power to supply them with another pastor before leaving. About this time little Susie began to show symptoms of illness, from teething, and as the warm weather progressed, she failed rapidly. For many days they watched her, scarcely able to perceive the feeble breath. Every arrangement had been completed for their departure to the new field of labor, but the darling of all hearts could not be moved, and the prospect was every hour more probable, that they would be obliged to lay her little form to rest among the people of their first home. One morning, the physician announced a change, saying a few hours would decide, whether for life or death, and advised, if favorable, that they should commence their journey immediately, in a private THE FAHEWELL. 133 carriage, as riding would be the best restorative for the child, if taken slowly. At noon, Dr. Strong assured the anxious parents that by great care, and the most judicious nurs ing, their little one would recover. The next day Mr. Herbert preached his parting sermon to a weeping congregation. "We will not linger over this trying time, and the most affec tionate farewells exchanged, as their loved teacher and friend passed from the little church for the last time. It was sad for all, but most for the young pastor and his wife. Here had been their " wedded love s first home," and no other spot could ever have, for them, half its charms. They turn from well- known, true and faithful friends, to strange scenes, and untried hearts, not knowing what shall befall them there. CHAPTEE IX. NORTON. THE journey was a delightful change, from the cares and anxieties of a sick-room, and the keen sufferings of parting from their people. Little Susie improved visibly with every hour, and her parents were soothed and comforted by the plea sant ride of four days. A kind friend had fur nished them with an easy carriage and a good horse, and they were at liberty to travel so leisurely as to feel it restful, rather than fatiguing. It was almost sunset when they came in sight of their future home. To our friends it bore little re semblance to all their past ideas of a city. It was more like one of the large flourishing towns of New England in size, but without the varied and beautiful scenery, which usually characterizes such towns. They looked in vain for some bold feature in the 134 THIS NEW HOME. 135 landscape. A hill, a bit of wood, or even a moss- grown rock, would have been a positive luxury. " How I shall miss the river, and the bold Ken tucky hills beyond !" said Mr. Herbert ; " and the 1 puff, 5 c puff, of the great boats, passing and re- passing hourly !" " Yes, we shall regret all these ; but most I dread the vain longings for the old familiar faces. Good Doctor Strong, kind, simple-hearted Mother Morton always ready in the hour of need. Poor Mrs. Gilbert, whom I had hoped to watch over and comfort, in her passage to the < better land. And dear Deacon Blake and wife, so prompt, yet so delicate and unobtrusive, in all their attentions how can I leave them all, and form new ties among this strange people ?" " Is it harder, dearest, than to leave your old home, father, mother, and all, to go with me among those equally strange, yet who have now become so dear ?" "Ah! I know it seems very foolish, my dear husband. But I had then little experience, and saw everything in such a bright, hopeful light. "We have passed through some dark, rough places since then, dear, and know that there are, most 136 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. probably, still darker in the future ; I shrink from meeting them here, whatever they may be." Mary s tears were dropping silently over her sleeping child, and her husband at once divined the direction of her thoughts. ""Why, Mary dear, this is not like your usual hopefulness. I see you are c borrowing trouble for c little puss here. I, on the contrary, am greatly encouraged. How much she has improved in the last three days. When we started, I had little hope of bringing her thus far, alive, and now she is gaining hourly. Cheer up, darling, you must not show so sad a face when we greet our new people." " This little pale, doll-like creature, in my arms, will be excuse enough for a sad face ; but I will try and be cheerful for your sake, my husband." " That s my own good wife. And now here we are, and there are Elder Jackson and his lady waiting at the gate. You can t help liking her, I know." Our friends were most cordially welcomed, and the sweet-faced, beautiful w r oman who met Mary, with a kiss as warm as if she had known her for years, won her heart at once. FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 137 "We will leave the history of " fiist impressions" to be gained from Mrs. Herbert s earliest letter to her mother. "NORTON, Aug. 3, 18. " MY DEAKEST MOTHER : "My last letter told you of the call to this place, and the pain it cost to decide that we ought to come, and also the added trial of our dear baby s illness. George wrote you the morn ing we left Glenville, that she was better, and that letter you have received, no doubt. " "We were four days on our way here. One of the elders of this church came for us with his horse and carriage, and learning how low little Susie was, left them for us to come on slowly, and returned himself by stage. "The journey has greatly benefited her, but still, it hardly seems possible that she can recover. I never saw so sick a child. Why, my dear mother, she is fourteen months old, and weighs but a pound and a half more than she did the day of her birth. Before her illness she was an uncommonly large child. But the ladies here tell me that such changes from teething are very com mon in this climate, and seem to feel quite sure 138 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. she will now gain rapidly. God grant it. But I fear I am weak in faith. " "We are staying for a few days with one of the principal men of the church, and find a very plea sant family and comfortable quarters. Mrs. Jack son is one of the most lovely women I ever met, and, if I may judge from so short an acquaintance, is as < good as she is bonnie. She has quite a large family (your number, I think), and yet does not look much older than I do. " Her family seem to look to her as to all that is good and perfect in woman, and yet I think they are troubled and anxious about her. She strikes one as exceedingly delicate. " The daughters are very pleasant, well-informed girls, far superior to any I have met with since I left home, but none of them will ever be as fair to look upon as their gentle mother. ""We are to take possession of a little cottage near by, next week, ready furnished, which we can have a few months perhaps, but hope by that time to be able to make some permanent arrange ment. " The people promise us a more liberal support than we had at Grlenville, but I am a little fearful HOPES AND PEOSPECTS. 139 that the promises may not be so reliable as with the dear church we have left. " They were, to be sure, able to do but little ; but they invariably went beyond what they engaged to do. George is, as usual, sure it will all come out right. He is ever more sanguine about matters coming right than I am ; but the worst of it is, I am sorry to say, that in money matters my view of our affairs is generally the most correct. If the worst comes, however, we can take boarders again, though I have a great longing to live just in my own family, for a little while at least. We have so much visiting to do, that it seems almost a ne cessity that the home, however homely, should be ours alone a resting-place from all outside cares and turmoil. " Have had many calls from our new friends, and find some that bid fair to prove pleasant ac quaintances ; but, thus far, I can t feel c drawn to them, as I was when I first met the people of Glenville. There is more profession of interest, but I doubt if I shall find as much heart that kind of heart which one can rest securely upon, when the dark days come. Perhaps because .1 am older and more experienced (one learns fast 140 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. in this country), and do not take people upon trust as readily as formerly ; perhaps I am a little cross and soured by this parting, and my heart closes itself against the idea of receiving a new love, so soon after leaving the old. If that is the reason, I must riot indulge it and will not. " When we received this call, we were informed by the people of Glenville that it was a place greatly subject to the fever and ague ; but Norton folks assured us it was a false report that it was an unusually healthy place. Still, as we drew nigh, on our journey hither, my heart misgave me. It is a broad, level stretch of land as far as the eye can reach, looking as if one good, thorough rain would transform it into an impassable morass. How the inhabitants contrive to get about in rainy weather I can t imagine, unless they use stilts. The city itself has been reclaimed in part from this slough, and presents quite a thriving appearance, being very prettily laid out, with a number of fine buildings. Excepting in the main business streets, the houses are not so huddled together, after the manner of our eastern cities ; but each has a fine back and front yard, and the streets are broad, with shade- trees on either side. On the whole, when seen on ONLY THE CHILLS. 141 a fair, sun-lighted day, it is rather attractive at first sight ; but after a while the eye tires of the sameness, and longs for some one or two elevated points to rest upon, if it be but a mole-hill. The village on * the Plains near home will give you some idea of this place ; only you must shut out all those high hills, and woods, and farms which encir cle c the Plains, and give them their greatest charm. " After tea, the evening we arrived, a little boy I had not seen, came into the parlor. He was in good flesh, but so pale and Wue. ( Is he ill ? I asked the mother. " < Oh, nothing but the chills. " c They must be very common, if you speak of them so calmly, I replied. " Oh, yes, said the eldest daughter, smiling; we take turns in having them. "We should not feel at home, unless some one was shafting about the house. It s nothing so dreadful, Mrs Herbert ; everybody makes light of it after it is over. " Don t look so distressed, and gaze so sadly on your little one, said Mrs. Jackson ; c chills are not the worst troubles in the world. To be sure, they are not very desirable, but fatal consequences, arising from them, are rare. 5 142 FROM DAWN TO DA FLIGHT. " But, Mrs. Jackson, we liave been sadl;? deceived. "We were informed, before we decided to come, that this region of country was subject to " fever and ague;" but the gentlemen from Norton, to whom my husband went to learn the truth of the report, assured him most earnestly that it was not so ; and on that assurance we decided to come. They knew we should have declined had we known this ; for lightly as you speak of this disease, we know that, in the end, it undermines the health and ruins the constitution, and we should have felt it a sin, voluntarily to place ourselves in such a position. " I could not help seeing the look of astonish ment which passed round the little circle. " c Are you sure, said Mrs. Jackson, * that there is not some mistake? I cannot understand what any one could expect to gain by giving you infor mation, the falsity of which you could not fail to learn by a week s residence ; and surely any one must see far enough ahead to realize that, once known, it would weaken your confidence in us as a people. " < The whole region has always been noted for fever and ague, ever since it was settled. When * SLOW BUT SURE. 143 Mr. Jackson and myself first came here it was frightful : but as the country round about became drained and settled, it has gradually decreased, or rather become much less severe. " As I looked at the delicate face before me, and marked the hectic flush on her cheek, while she spoke, I could not but think that only the chills? though perhaps a slow death, might, nevertheless, prove a sure one. " I fear I may have said too much and pre judiced them against me, at the beginning. But it was so trying to feel that I had brought my poor baby from so healthy a place as Glenville ! "Well, it is done, and fretting won t help the matter ; I think I will not tell George of it, how ever ; it will dishearten him, at a time when he needs all his courage, to learn that the people with whom we are to dwell, in order to accomplish their wishes, should so forget the truth. " I wish I had not learned it myself at least, till I had become more at home, and better acquainted with these new friends. " I must close now ; I fear you will be troubled with this letter, dear mother, and it might have been more generous had I waited till I felt in 144: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. better liumor, with all the world, and with this place in particular. I have acted on Cowper s principle, though I don t believe in it. He says, 4 What s the use of having friends, if we don t let them bear a part of our burdens. " But I ve no doubt I shall feel as happy as ever in a week. Why not ? I have my husband and child safe as yet. Indeed I feel better satisfied already. You see, Harry dear, I m giving you the benefit of enough Ule to save me at least a year from the shakes. Isn t that good logic, father? " And now good bye. When I am fairly at home once more I ll write again. " Most lovingly, "MARY HERBERT." Mrs. Leighton s reply to this contained one piece of advice, which I insert for the benefit of all lov ing wives. After expressing great sympathy, and her fears for the health of her daughter and family, she adds : " But, my dear Mary, I must reprove you a little. I notice in your letters to me, that frequently, after alluding to some little annoyance, or trial hard for FOB BETTER OR FOE WORSE. you to bear, you say, I tell you, dear mother, of these petty grievances just to relieve my mind, but I never go to George with my troubles. I would not for the world hinder his usefulness, or take his mind from his labors by speaking of trials which I can bear alone. " Your intentions arc excellent, my dear child, but I do not think you judge correctly. I believe it is for the happiness of husband and wife to be one, so truly that they shall share with each other all things, that even in the smallest matters there shall be the most perfect confidence and openness. The promise was for better or for worse^for joy or sor- row? It is, I think, 11 mistaken idea, that a clergy man s mind should be constantly shielded from all the little rubs and irritations of life, and especially that his wife ought to conceal all her anxieties and perplexities, and be ready, under all circumstances, to meet her husband with an unclouded brow which, when her heart is troubled, means, in plain Eng lish, that she ought to play the hypocrite, to save his feelings. Such a course is an insult to a hus band s manliness of character, and will eventually spoil any man, unless he is already an angel. Now, I do not believe our dear George is quite angelic 7 14:6 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. jet, but he is far too good and noble to be made vain and selfish by his wife s using herself as a shield to ward off little trials. Great troubles any man can bear, but your husband will grow in grace much faster, and go on unto perfection all the more easily, if he learns to meet petty vex ations with equanimity ; and you, my child, will live to aid him much longer, and far more effect ually, if you bear one another s burdens, instead of one little silly girl s attempting to carry the whole load for both. Try it, my darling 5 or, years hence, when you are growing old, perhaps feeble and incapable of such exertions as you now make, you will yearn for comfort and aid from him, and find, too late, that your husband has so well learned the lesson you have yourself taught him, that he cannot readily unlearn it, and if you then claim his sympathy and affectionate support, he may feel that you are encroaching on time devoted to the duties of his high calling. Then it will not do for you to remind him that there are other duties, equally binding as those which belong to his public life. "But I have warned you, and will add no more." NO CAUSE FOR FEAE. 147 " Poor mother !" said Ker daughter, after read ing the letter. " The warning is tinged by the dark shadows of her own experience. But the 4 lines have fallen unto me in pleasant places/ so far as my married state is concerned. In thio matter there is, certainly, no cause for fear. My husband couldn t become selfish under any circum stances, and will not fail me in the hour of need, I know. So long as I am strong and well, I really think it is my duty to keep all care from him, that I can. Dearest mother ! she can t exactly under stand how I am situated. My lot has been so differ ent from hers. Dear George! how often I long to have mother with us, that she may see for her self how good, and kind, and considerate he is to her silly daughter ! If I could use my mind to any purpose as many wives can, it would change the aspect of things materially. But I, unfortunately, am only fit for simple, domestic duties, and can make myself necessary to his happiness, only through Uttle things. I will never conceal anything fron him that will increase his happiness, but I think I must not show him this letter ; it would grieve him, I fear." Ah, Mary ! you are letting your heart and not 14:8 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. your heady guide you now ; you have already learned to fear, as well as love (though it would be hard to make you realize it), not from a shadow of coldness or harshness on his part, but because you, foolishly, place too high an estimate on mental quali fications, and too low on good, plain common sense, and therefore fear that the latter will not prove suffi cient to retain your hold upon his affections, unless you add to it the sacrifice of your ease and quiet, to guard him from annoyance. Some men would boon learn to claim it as a right, instead of receiv ing it as the purest token of deep and true affec tion. Mrs. Herbert s next letter was written imme diately after the receipt of her mother s ; and first replying to the home epistle, she then adds : " I have delayed this longer than I intended, and fear you may have been made anxious by it ; but my reasons will prove an abundant excuse, I am certain. " While I was writing the first part of this letter, little Agnes came into my room weeping bitterly, saying her mother wanted me, for little Charlie (a sweet boy about Susie s age), was very ill. I was greatly shocked. Not two hours before, he was IN A CHILL. 149 sitting on my lap, having a grand frolic with my little darling. I hastened to the room and found the poor child in a ckillj and the symptoms deve loped were such, that the family were greatly alarmed, and when the physician came, he evi dently shared their anxiety. " Afternoon. I have just left little Charlie, by whose sick-bed I have been watching, while his sorrowful mother tried to rest a few moments. Dear little fellow ! He does not appear half so ill as our baby did indeed, she still looks the sickest of the two. But I am sore afraid of this disease. I can hardly tell why ; but ever since I came West, I have had a strange dread of it. Every one laughs at me for it, and assures me that it is nothing to be alarmed at ; that it seldom proves anything serious. It may be so, but George attended four funerals yesterday, and has three to-day, from congestion, following a chill! I had never seen a case till Charlie was attacked, and to me it is something very frightful. " George has just come in to inform me that we can move at once into the little cottage I spoke of in my last. It is a week earlier than we had hoped to obtain it. Mrs. Jackson urges us to stay 150 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. till morning, but the house is all ready, the family who own it have kindly left food and all the need ful for to-morrow s breakfast, and we feel that we ought to relieve our afflicted friends from the slightest additional care, as soon as possible. " I will lay this aside and finish after we move ; our trunks are all ready, and in a half hour I shall be getting tea, at home, once more. " Thursday morning. Oh, mother ! dear little Charlie is dead! I have just finished his little robe, and dressed the darling boy for the grave ! Dear mother, there is something so frightful in that thought, when connected with a "babe! I cannot bring myself to realize, but that one so dependent on maternal love, will be all the while conscious of the dreary loneliness of its last sad resting-place, and the thought always makes me turn sick with horror ! I earnestly wish I could divest myself of this idea, and feel, as on the burial of adults, that God has taken the spirit back to his own loving care, and that tis only the casket in -which He placed our jewel, when He loaned it to us, that is hid in the cold earth. " We were sent for this morning, before break fast, and found the loved child in convulsions. A FEVER BREEDER. 151 Poor Mrs. Jackson! she is very calm, but the iron has entered her soul, and she looks so frail, and spiritual, 1 can t but think she will soon follow her beloved child. " I have become truly attached to this family, but as the house is full of their relations and older friends, I still feel too much a stranger to remain longer, as all is done that I can do. I have, there fore, returned home, to prepare tea for my hus band, who is again at a funeral ; and while I wait for him, dear mother, I will finish this long-delayed letter. " I feel very sad and lonely. It is a still, sultry, August day a c fever breeder, as the doctor said this morning. Little Susie has fallen asleep on the settee. The clock ticks sadly on the mantel, the flies crawl lazily over the window, with a ceaseless buzz, that makes me shiver. The shadows of the beautiful locust-trees look ghostly, as they fall athwart the grass, or flicker noiselessly in the sun light, on the floor. How painfully still it is! How new to me to feel so listless and half melan choly ! If I wasn t ashamed of it, I could easily imagine I was going to be sick. " The quiet is so unearthly that it almost fright 152 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ens one. But there comes George, just turning tho corner, and the sight of his cheerful, loving face will put all these fancies to flight. "The clock has already changed its dirge-like tick, to a lively tone the flies buzz merrily now, and the locust shadows haven t a bit of a ghost about them, but are dancing like fairies on the charmed green, and the magician who has wrought such wonderful changes is at the door, so good bye, my dear ones, and don t laugh at me for this foolish fit of the c blues. " Your own, " MART." CHAPTER X. SICKNESS. POOR Mary s despondency was not all imagin ation, but the precursor of illness. Before morn ing, the dreaded chills had her in their power, and in a few hours her husband was made captive also. Mrs. Campbell, a kind-hearted Methodist neigh bor, took the little puny Susie to her own house, her parents at the time too ill to realize that they might never see her again. Mr. Herbert was for some days alarmingly sick ; but his wife, from the first, appeared utterly pros trated, without strength to rally. Her baby s name she never mentioned ; but it was very sad to listen to her entreaties to be carried into her husband s room, if but for one look. "No word of complaint for the severe sufferings she was endur ing was uttered only the one thought, her husband was sick, and she could not watch by his side. 7* 153 154: FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. These were sharp trials for our young friends, jfhey had entirely left out of their calculations the possibility, that days and nights of weariness and pain could pass, unsoothed by word or look from each other. Mr. Herbert was able to visit his wife s bed-side at the end of ten days. What a change had passed over both. "Weak as a child, his feeble limbs could scarcely support him across the room; and can that pale, hollow-eyed w r oman be his blooming Mary? Mr. Herbert gained rapidly, as most are ex pected to do after the " ague," but there were many causes to retard his wife s recovery. As she lost anxiety for her husband, she began to long exceedingly for the poor little one, who had been so unceremoniously made over to the care of others. She accused herself of heartlessness, because she had so easily yielded her to one whom she had never seen till the day she was taken ill. The people of all classes showed much deeper sympathy than Mary s first impression led her to expect. One beautiful morning, when she had been ill about four weeks, a gentleman, whom Mr. Herbert had seen but once (and who took occasion THE FIKST KIDE. 155 to boast during the interview, that though Yankee born and bred, lie hadn t been inside of a church for the last twenty years), rode up to the gate with a fine easy carriage, and a noble span of bays, and calling Mr. Herbert out, said smiling : "I have come to give you and Mrs. Herbert a ride, if you will risk your neck with such a heathen driver. You see, I ve a notion that Mrs. Herbert will recover more rapidly if she can see her baby. Dr. Marvel says it is a first-rate idea, and the ride will not hurt her at all. " Many thanks, Mr. Upton, but Mrs. II. has not set up ten minutes yet, and cannot walk as many steps. I do not think I could possibly get her from her bed to your carriage." " Have you lived in New England all your boy hood days, without learning how to make i a chair, to carry your sisters and playmates over the snow drifts ?" said Mr. Upton, laughing. " I did not suppose you were strong enough yet, to bring the lady here ; but step in and help her up, and then we ll see if you and I together cannot take her to the carriage, as gently as you would carry your baby." "You are exceedingly kind," 156 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Oh, nonsense. Don t talk of that, man ; I ve lived so long among these confounded chills, thai I ve a soft spot in my heart for all new-comers who take the ague ; and well it may as well out to tell the truth, sir, I m a little ashamed of myself, for my rascally attempt at browbeating at our last meeting, and also for using rather c tall language to you. If you had tried to preach to me just then, I reckon the spirit to-day would have moved me to turn my horses heads in an entirely different direc tion ; for, as you have seen, I m not a great lover of preaching anyhow, and I certainly can t abide it out of the pulpit. There, that joVs over, and now let s have the sick one ready." "With very little fatigue, Mary was removed from the bed to the carriage ; and none but those who have lingered long in the dismal confinement of a sick room, can fully appreciate the privilege of breathing once more the pure, sweet air and the hope of returning health. With equal gentleness and care, her kind attendants conveyed her into Mrs. Campbell s tidy sitting-room, and then Mr. Upton went in search of the mistress of the family, and little Susie. A cradle stood near the lounge, and in it a sweet LITTLE SUSIE. 157 babe lay sleeping. Mr. Herbert rose, and bent lovingly over it. " How kind of Mrs. Campbell to take charge of our feeble baby, when she had one of her own so near the same age." " Yes," said Mary, " she is a noble woman. If we could only see our darling half as healthy, it would be such a comfort." Just then the baby woke, and seeing only strange faces, began to cry, and Mrs. Campbell entered at the same moment. After welcoming her guests, she took the child, who clung half frightened to her neck, slily watching the intruders. " Don t think me impatient, dear Mrs. C.," said Mary, " but I am anxious to see my baby." " Then you will not acknowledge this little part ridge? Forgive me, I ought not to tease you when you are so weak ; do you not recognize little Susie?" " Surely you do not mean to say that this stout, ruddy little girl is our own !" " Certainly. I am surprised that you think her so changed. It has been so gradual that I did not once imagine you would not know her instantly ; and waited longer than was consistent with good 158 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. manners, that your first meeting might be without witnesses." " Why, Mrs. Campbell, I cannot credit it. I do not see a shadow of resemblance. Even her eyes and hair have changed. Come to mother , darling ! Why, George, she doesn t know us her own father and mother /" And kind Mrs. Campbell did not think her ungrateful, when she hid her face in the pillows to conceal the tears. " Tis rather hard, it must be confessed ; but I cannot wonder at her shyness, for you are both far more changed than the baby. And beside," added she playfully, " she but followed your example in her forgetfulness. The parents did not know the child remember." It was not long before Mr. Herbert had suc ceeded in coaxing the little one from its foster mother s arms, and was enjoying a grand frolic, somewhat after the fashion of the old times. Soon, one of Mrs. Campbell s pretty daughters brought in a fragrant cup of tea, and some very tempting viands, of which they partook with more cheerful ness and appetite than they had enjoyed for many days. To leave their little one was now all the harder, from having learned how readily a child A MERCIFUL MAN. 159 may forget its home and friends, and when Mr. Upton called for them, he found the mother ear nestly urging the propriety of taking her home. Mrs. Campbell would not hear a word of this, and Mrs. Herbert reluctantly agreed that it was not yet safe. " Beside," said Mr. Upton, in his quaint manner, " I only bargained to drive the parson and his wife. Couldn t possibly take any more load. < A merci ful man is merciful to his beast. There s scripture for you, Mr. Herbert. You see I haven t forgotten all my New England education, even if I am such a sad fellow as you had good reason for think ing the other day." "When they left Mrs. Campbell, it was settled that she should bring the dear baby home in a few days, and also a nice little German girl she had been training to take charge of her, and then, if Mrs. Herbert was still improving, she would leave them both. In due time, the pet child and her tidy little maid returned, but the poor mother gained slowly, having slight chills every day, and often a week of very severe ones. Mr. Herbert meanwhile began to feel that he was strong enough to resume his 160 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. pulpit labors. He made the attempt, and closed the afternoon service in a violent chill. Another sick week was the consequence, though slight com pared with the first. And so the winter passed, preaching two or three Sabbaths, and then laid by for as many more. During one of these attacks, the owners of the cottage returned, and much sooner than was ex pected. Of course our friends found it necessary to seek another tenement immediately. A small house was secured, exceedingly out of repair, and in a very uncomfortable neighborhood. The least possible amount of furniture was provided, and for that little they were compelled to involve them selves in debt, not large to be sure, but sufficient to cause them anxiety, although assured by the people, that as soon as the church should become a little settled, there would be no embarrassment concern ing money matters. Their new habitation proved so leaky and damp, that Mr. and Mrs. Herbert were, in two weeks after moving, again confined to their room. The chills returned with great violence, and as the ow r ner of the house refused to make any repairs, they were, after three weeks trial, compelled to vacate, and PKOMISES STILL UNFULFILLED. 161 seek another residence, or die. "With many failures and delays, they at length secured a comfortable lit tle cottage, with a pleasant garden, and found them selves settled, by mid winter, with encouraging pros pects of remaining stationary, at least for the year. Mrs. Herbert, however, continued quite feeble, and being compelled to perform a degree of labor far beyond her strength, her recovery to the enjoy ment of anything like comfortable health was very doubtful. They could not procure a servant, for they had not the means; and having learned by this time that fair words and soft speeches could not clothe the naked or feed the hungry, they were again compelled to secure boarders to supply themselves with the necessaries of life ; and, feeble and worn with repeated illness, this was far more reluctantly resorted to than when at Glenville. There, all was done for them that their people were able to do, and in many cases even more ; and the closest economy and incessant toil were easier borne, because abso lutely necessary. In Norton there was no such necessity. There was wealth in abundance among theii uew people. The money wasted on parties and 162 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. frivolous amusements every few weeks, would have comfortably supported their pastor s family a year, and given his wife an opportunity to rest and r 3gain her strength. Yet the church at Norton loved them, there sould be no doubt of that ; but they had not been taught to feel that a minister s labors were worth paying for. Is it not surprising that there should be in the world good, kind, sensible people, who, after a man has given labor and money freely, for many years of his life, to prepare himself for their service, are content that he should come among them, and devote time, talents, and his w r hole heart to them, yet feel that every farthing they dole out for his support, is something to be proud of an act of charity? If they employed a physician, or a lawyer, would they, instead of a fee, make them a present of some trine, and go away pluming them selves on their generosity ? Why should medical and legal service be more highly appreciated than the patient labors of a minister of the Gospel ? CHAPTER XI. ADVICE GIVING. "THE winter was over and gone, the birds whistled sweet on the spray," the lawn was decked in its robe of purest green, the warm spring sun was whispering lovingly to the lit tle leaves to wake and come forth from their winter homes, and the early flowers were just showing their pretty buds, when a darling son was added to the heart treasures in the pastor s abode. But the mother, enfeebled by the obstinate chills and great over-exertion of the past year, lay many weeks, hovering between life and death ; and just as she began to resume her usual life of care and labor, the baby returned to God who gave it. Trials had multiplied around their path steadily ; but though, for a moment, cast down and dis heartened, they had met and overcome them by patience and cheerful courage. But this was the 163 164 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. first of life s darker shadows one of those which sink into the depths of the heart, and though hid den from all eyes, nor time, nor change, nor pros perity even, can ever dispel. Bitterly did Mary mourn for her baby boy, and Mr. Herbert also felt the loss most deeply. But poverty cannot in dulge in the luxury of grief, and heart-sorrows must not stand in the way of duties and labors which a pastor owes his people. The relation of minister and people is generally viewed as a sort of one-sided obligation. The labor is exacted to the uttermost farthing the pay is of less consequence, and may wait a more convenient season. And poor Mary must force back the tears, reserv ing that luxury for the lonely night s watches, and struggle up again, as best she can, to household labors and anxieties. And very heavy were these burdens for her feeble strength. None may realize them, save those who have passed through the deep and troubled waters of a western missionary s life. Her work must be done and well done, and always prompt, or she would lose her boarders; and if forced to resign that mode of adding to their sup port, what could she do? Certainly not resort to her needle again. "What could she accomplish A EIGHT MOTHEELT TALK. 165 with that in her present health ? She could more easily drag her aching limbs or shivering frame about the house, than attempt to "stitch, stitch, stitch, seam, gusset and band," with her blue, chilled fingers for scarce a day now passed with out a chill. It was irritating to her over-taxed nerves, and yet a source of merriment sometimes to herself and husband, to listen to the curious and contra dictory advice which was daily volunteered, as to the management of their private affairs. Gratui tous advice is, I believe, a part of every clergyman s experience ; but it is not often of the same char acter as that which our friends received. Mrs. Tompkins, a near neighbor, was sure Mrs. Herbert could get along with less expense, if she " would only hear to reason, and not be so c set in her own way." One day the good dame told her husband, she felt it her duty to go over and have a right motherly talk with the Dominie s wife ; and as such " duties " are in no danger of being neglected, not many hours elapsed before she had waited upon herself into the kitchen, where Mary was at work, remark ing that she always " allowed " to make herself at 168 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. home wherever she went, and "liked to see people in the thick of their work." Mrs. Herbert must of course leave her bread half kneaded, and sit down with her guest, who assured her she wasn t going to stay "but a minute," just for a word. " You are a young woman," said she, " and I felt like it would be neighborly to step in and give you a little advice. You can t be expected to be as cute in managing as them as is older and had a heap of experience. " i>Tow, you see, it s sheer folly to expect to make anything by keeping boarders, with your genteel notions. Just you listen to me, now. Turn them adrift get along with two rooms, and under-rent the rest of the house; that ll be so much saved, don t you see ? Why, Tompkins and I never had but one room for six years after we were married, and had three children to care for. And then, you are too f sit and high-going in your ideas of house keeping. You think you must have three meals a-day, and the table regularly set each time, and I seed as I passed through your dining-room a table cloth on, for all the world as if you were expecting company have to, I s pose, if you keep boarders, "WHAT S THE USE." 167 and pies or puddings, I ll warrant, every day for dinner. " Well, now I ll tell you : fore Tompkins made his money we got into the way of arly rising for we had to scratch proper hard, I tell you. But the children, poor dears, don t like to get up o mornings ; and, says I to Tompkins, 4 let them sleep, and take their ease while they are young. Long s their pap s rich, what s the use o having them up ? Well, as I was saying, Tompkins and I get up still pretty early (no need for it now, only tis habit, I s pose), we have our breakfast a cup of coffee, bread and butter, and a bit of cold meat, does well enough for us (s pose from what I hear, you have all sorts of warm fixings}. We take our meals in the kitchen, on the pine table and with out a cloth, when we have no company, and our kitchen ain t half as nice as your n. You see, when we built, I told Tompkins to fix up anything, cheap, for the kitchen and rooms for help, and put more money into the fancy part of the house. !Nbt but what we could afford to have all parts fine > lut what s the use ? " Well, as I was saying, we just leave the coffee on the stove and the table standing, and when the 1G8 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. hired man and girl get through their milking, they help themselves, and the young folks come down, one after another, justs as it suit them. Now, don t interrupt; just let me talk, and tell you all about it. Half the time we don t have a regular din ner. If we get hungry, nothing easier, you know, than to go to the cupboard and help ourselves. A cup of tea and some meat for supper is all we do. " "When we have company, why, that s another thing. I reckon then on a grand How out, and get out my silver, and china (Tompkins paid one hundred and twenty dollars for that set, in ISTew York), and damask table-cloths, and we all turn in and cook everything nice, that we can hear or think of, and when His over we take a week or two s resting spell. " Now you needn t have company ; tisn t ex pected of a preacher s family ; excepting a country parson, now and then, or travelling agent, or dele gate, or such like" (which generally means having an extra plate about every other meal, thought Mary), " and if you d just do like we do, when alone, you needn t work half so hard, and it wouldn t cost so much, by two hundred dollars a year, to support you; and then, you see, the CLOSE ECONOMY. 169 church is young hardly on its feet yet, and by being saving, you could relinquish at least that much of your salary and live on the rest." Mary had been listening impatiently to this long lecture, and occasionally casting an anxious eye to the clock, thinking if the call was extended much longer she should be obliged to hurry beyond her strength, to have dinner in season, and as the good lady paused for lack of breath, she rose, saying, " You must excuse me, at least for a time, Mrs. Tompkins ; my bread will spoil, and my dinner be late." " Well, but promise me you will do as I advise. Come, now, I must have your promise, so that I can tell my man, when he comes in, that you won t want them two hundred dollars. It s a promise, ain t it?" "!Nb, Mrs. Tompkins," said Mary, who had borne till patience was no longer a virtue. " JSTo, indeed ! It is to save something for the church, instead of relieving me from hard labor, and my husband from anxiety, it seems, about which you are so anxious. Why, madam, the church has been largely in our debt ever since we came, and has never paid up the full amount promised, nor 8 170 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. anything, without constant solicitation. I cannot make the promise you require. The money we must have, or leave or die, Mrs. T. And as for arranging household affairs after your pattern, you must excuse me. 1 could not do it. It may "be the best and most comfortable way for you, but for myself and husband it would be intolerable. It wouldn t be living. I trust you will not be offended if I speak plainly ; but indeed, madam, I cannot but feel that each one should manage their private affairs according to their own ideas of right, without interference, otherwise there can be no home; and I see no reason why a clergyman s family should not have that privilege, as well as others." " Beg pardon ! beg pardon ! I might have known that a c Yankee would be too self-import ant to take advice from any one. Good morning. Interference indeed ! I shan t interfere with your affairs again in a hurry, I can tell you," and she flounced out of the room in great wrath. Poor Mary ! Her head reeled, and her eyes were throbbing. She feared she had been too im patient, and longed to sit down and find relief in a hearty cry. But that would not do. The bread SPECULATIONS. 171 would be sour and the dinner late, if she yielded to any such folly. " How could she be so cruel ?" said she, half aloud, and little Susie opened her great, blue eyes, and shook her wise little head, saying : " Susie tell papa ; naughty Topsins scold poor mamma." Mr. Tompkins began the world with a "fip" (Hoosier for sixpence), in Pennsylvania, and specu lated with that, till he had the wherewithal to take him out " "West " to a river town, and set up a cigar stall. He prospered, and took to himself a wife a poor, uneducated, but industrious girl. He then built a log cabin, with only one room, as Mrs. Tompkins has said. While he traded cigars and candies, she washed for the boatmen who stopped near, or carded, spun and wove for the neighboring farmers. They lived in the rudest manner, everything they touched turned to money, and was carefully invested in petty speculations. In six years he moved to Norton, with property that warranted his going into business on a larger scale, and now, after a residence of over twenty years, he had built the finest house in the city, and fui 172 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. nished it to correspond. That was all for show. "When by themselves, they lived just as Ms wife had described. And this woman s husband was worth half a million, yet felt that their pastor ought to give up two hundred dollars of his scanty support, to save his people the necessity of con tributing so liberally! O selfishness! thou art hydra-headed, but hopelessly blind. When papa returned, " Susie " made her threat ened complaint of " Topsins," in the hearing of the young gentlemen, before her mother could check her. "What is it?" said Mr. Herbert ; "I don t quite understand the child. I wonder if you have been receiving a lecture as well as myself. Don t look so inquisitive. I shan t relate my experience, my dear, till I ve had the benefit of yours." Mrs. Herbert gave a concise explanation of the morning s trial, to the amusement, as well as indig nation of her auditors. "And so we are to be shipped," said young Burgess. " Possession is nine points of the law," replied Stanly, " and I, for one, think I shall resist, if you attempt to serve a writ of ejectment against me." INDEPENDENT AIRS. 173 "But, Mr. Herbert, pray let s liave your adventures. I presume Pap Tompkins lias been giving you the counterpart of his wife s lecture." " Yes, very nearly. Only he thinks because my wife is pretty, I am rather too easily influenced, and yield to her -fine notions too readily I don t govern her with real apostolic strictness it seems. So, my lady, you may look for vigorous discipline after this." " That s too rich," said Townly. He dare not move without Mrs. Tompkins consent. It is noto rious. He might have sat for the portrait of Caudle." " Oh, of course ; but that s no reason why he shouldn t treat himself to a few independent airs, when out of her sight, poor fellow ! Why, young gentlemen, if you were to hear some of my high- sounding, brave speeches when away from home, you would almost believe I was master of my own household. I cheat myself into that belief quite often. " But do you know, wife, I m going to dig up all your silly flowers in the front yard, and plant potatoes and cabbages instead. You entice me 174: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. into spending a great deal of precious time over tii em, wliich I SLmjpaid to devote to the interest of the church /" " The heathen !" said Burgess. " "What did you say?" " I trust you were more prudent and better natured than I was," said Mrs. Herbert. " Not I, believe me. I gave him the benefit of my thoughts, without stopping to choose my words, and trust, if he repeats the conversation, it will warn others to let our private affairs alone for the future." Weeks went by, and neither ]Vlr. nor Mrs. Tomp- kins spoke to them, after this conversation, and if they saw them in the street, were careful to give them a wide berth, and a total alienation was fully expected. One night, some weeks after, our friends were roused from sleep by Dr. Marvel, who requested Mrs. Herbert to hasten over to Mr. Tompkins , at once, as one of their daughters was very ill. She found the house all confusion Mrs. Tomp kins in hysterics, and utterly incapacitated for any exertion, and though there were many neighbors and friends present, as was the custom in cases of RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL. 175 extreme or sudden illness, they were more inclined to make pious reflections and sympathetic remarks, than to act efficiently or calmly. Mr. Tompkins alone was self-possessed and able to assist ; but there was such speechless, hopeless anguish in every line of his face, that it was more distressing than violent grief. O O For two days and nights Mrs. Herbert never left that sorrowful abode, trusting her little girl and household cares with her husband, the sympa thizing boarders, and a young friend who volun teered to remain with little Susie, when her father was obliged to join his wife in care for the afflicted ones, or was engaged in other and important duties. The morning of the third day the sufferer was released, and even when the last sad offices were rendered, the mourners clung to Mrs. Herbert, beseeching her to remain ; but she was exhausted, and obliged to return home. This severe tax on her strength confined her to her bed several weeks with a serious illness. Her kind attention in their deep afflictions, and her sufferings following, were never forgotten by the Tompkins family. Many a nice bit found its way to the " Dominie s " during her sickness, and any one who complained of 176 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Mr. Herbert, or found fault with liis wife, from that time forward, were sure to receive a more formidable lecture than those we have recorded. They could not do wrong, and it was no transient, impulsive feeling, manifested during the freshness of their grief, but an enduring affection, flowing out toward those who had served them in their hour of darkness quiet, but most effectual in its developments. "When Mrs. Herbert began to sit up, Grandpa Tompkins, as he had taught Susie to call him, hovered about her sick-room, as patient and gentle as a woman, grudging any service or care that he could not render himself. It was amusing to see the earnest, and often laughable manifestations of the old man s solicitude and affection, and his wife s now gentle and unobtrusive kindness. One morning, soon after breakfast, Mr. Herbert was washing the dishes, and his wife, sitting, pale and trembling, trying to wipe them, when, from the window, they saw Mr. and Mrs. Tompkins crossing the lawn. Their visits had been very fre quent of late, and always the harbinger of some genuine kindness, but it was seldom that both came together, or so early in the morning. AN AMUSING SCENE. 177 " Our good friends have some great plan on foot, I m sure," said Mr. Herbert, judging by their earnest, conscious looks. " "Well, we may be certain now" replied Mary, " that it will be something kind." Their look of amazement, when they saw Mr. Herbert s occupation, was so irresistibly comic, that he dropped his dish-towel and laughed heartily. Mrs. Tompkins joined him, exclaiming, "Well, now, did I ever /" But Mr. Tompkins stood for a moment perfectly amazed, rolling his quid over and over in his mouth. Then thrusting his tongue into his cheek, with a peculiar knowing wink to his wife, he marched sturdily up to Mary, and wrap ping the shawl around her, picked her up, chair and all, as if she had been a mere doll, and walked straight across to his own house. "Stop, thief! stop, thief!" cried Mr. Herbert, as he and Mrs. Tompkins, with Susie in her arms, followed, as well as they could for laughing ; and the boarders, who had devoted a part of the morn ings, during Mrs. Herbert s illness, to assisting in the garden, dropped their tools and joined in the frolic. In much less time than it has taken to write this 8* 178 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. little incident, the bewildered invalid was safely landed in the pleasant parlor, and when the merry followers joined them there, Mr. Tompkins stood rubbing his hands with evident satisfaction and self-congratulation. " There now, wife, I say that s a better way than to have tried argufying with the Dominie, and per haps been worsted after all. Anyhow, Mr. Her bert, if you don t like it, you can just take the chair and your wife, and carry them back again. You ll find it something of a lift, though, I m thinking." " I shan t try it, you may be sure, sir. But what does this all mean ? Are you in the habit of enter ing your neighbor s houses, and walking off with their wives in this style ?" "Not exactly. But, you see, I couldn t stand seeing that woman at work, and she so pale and shaky." "Why," said Mrs. Tompkins, "we got Dr. Marvel s consent, and came this beautiful morning to invite you to spend the day with us, boarders and all ; and see if a change wouldn t do your wife good ; but when we saw what you were at, every thing went out of my head but laughing; and if A CAPITAL IDEA. 179 my man, here, hadn t started for home the way he did, I don t know as I should have remembered what I came for." " It s a capital idea," said Stanly. " Yes, and capitally earned out" rejoined Bur gess. " And now Mr. Herbert may as well finish his dishes, and we l)oys will return and put the last touch to that weedy patch, and then go to our work." " You can do just as you please, gentlemen; but Mr. Herbert must go with Tompkins, to see some sick folks, and I ll see that the women s work is cared for." " Mrs. Herbert found the freedom and rest from care delightful ; but said she should feel more natu ral if she had some little piece of sewing, to busy herself with, and requested that her work-basket might be sent for. But Agnes Tompkins stepped to the table, and handing her a bundle, said " Mother thought you d never be easy without something in your hands, and therefore sent me to the store for this, last night ; Sister Essie and I are to help make them." On opening the bundle, there was material for four pretty summer dresses, and white linen for 180 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. aprons for Susie, which were soon prepared by the willing hands of the young ladies. Mrs. Herbert noticed through the day that every little while Mrs. Tompkins, or one of her daugh ters, would disappear for a few moments, and on returning, some significant glance passed between them, but nothing was said. Toward night, the invalid returned home. Mary insisting that she could walk the few steps across the way, aided by her husband, while Mr. Tomp kins followed with the chair, and his wife with Susie. The mystery was then explained. Their kind friend had taken the house-cleaning into her own hands, and it had been thoroughly finished from top to bottom, and she priding herself on being able to prove to Mr. Herbert s satisfaction that he could not complain of his books or papers being confused or misplaced. They then bade each other good night, Mrs. Tompkins stopping, as she said, "just for a last word," to advise Mr. Herbert to examine the closets and pantries, and see if there was any thing missing. The tone with which, this was said convinced them that there was something more than sport in the advice, and George concluded to follow it. TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 181 But in a moment he was back, insisting upon draw ing his wife s chair into the store closet, that she might join in the examination. Oh ! how easy a thing it is for true friendship to lighten heavy- laden hearts, and cause them to sing for joy ! There was flour, sugar, tea, coffee, rolls of nice butter, a ham ready cooked, and several uncooked ; loaves of bread, still warm, cake and pies in pro fusion. " Look !" said Mary, " there are two pans of milk that must have just been strained, for see, the foam is still on them." A gentle, contented "low" near the window where she sat, caused them both to start, and raise the curtain, and there, tied to a stake, close by, stood a beautiful brindle cow. " Oh, husband, I was saying at the table this evening, while partaking of that delicious cream, at our good friend s tea-table, what a luxury I should esteem it, could we afford to keep a cow and here it is." Could their friends have seen them as they stood in that little closet, among the gifts so unexpectedly showered upon them, they would have been abundantly paid for all their efforts. 182 FROM DAW:fr TO DAYLIGHT. " I will help you back to your room, dear wife, and then I must run over and say one word, or I shan b sleep to-night." But, once in the midst of those who had been so thoughtful, the words would not come. lie could only, with glistening eyes, shake each one affec tionately by the hand, and look his thanks, and that w T as even more expressive than words could have been. "There, now, we know just what you want to say ( tis the first time though, I ever saw you at a loss for words), Mr. Herbert. You see, my woman and I have never felt happy since we tried to gough you out of them two hundred dollars. We d acted like better Christians, I reckon, if we had added two more. " My boys and I have done the happiest day s work of all our lives, picking up those little articles, and the woman and girls have been even with us. If they can make your good lady s mind easier, till she gets strong, we shall be twice glad. I wish I could open other people s eyes to the worth of preaching, and the value of a good pastor, as fully as ours have been ; but not as ours were opened oh, no ! If they will only wake up now, perhaps 183 they ll escape learning the lesson as painfully as we have." " But the cow, my clear sir the cow." "She was our Annie s" brindle, said the old man, sobbing; "one that she petted, and loved ever since it was a week old. The morning after we lost our darling, it almost broke my heart to hear c brindle lowing about, and rubbing her head on my shoulder, as if she wanted to ask why her mistress had neg lected her, and I vowed then, that Mrs. Herbert should have her. I only waited till she would be of service, to send her over, and the milk on your shelves is her first. My boys will take her to the pasture and bring her home with ours. " Now, run off and look to our child, for such we shall always claim her, if she will let us. Tell her not to hurt herself being grateful we are the debtors, and always shall be." I trust our readers are not wearied with, this sketch of Mr. Tompkins family. Such as they were now, they ever remained, always watching to do good, to save their pastor from trouble, and many times Mr. Herbert must have been compelled to relinquish his charge, if it had not been for some timely aid from those friends, who always seem to know instinctively, when to come to the rescue. CHAPTER XII. A CHAPTER ON " HELP." DURING the past year, Mrs. Herbert had occa sionally been compelled by ill-liealth to hire a ser vant or, as they were called, "h-clp" and her experience was, in many instances, of the most serio-comical kind. At this period, there were but three classes of servants to be obtained the Hoosier, German, and runaway, or free colored persons. The Hoosier girls, who could be persuaded to " work out," were slatternly, uninformed and indo lent, and withal so conscious of living in a free country (thousands of slaves almost in their sight, notwithstanding), that all the work they did was felt to be a condescension on their part, which de manded from their employers the largest amount of gratitude, and, at the same time, the highest wages. After remaining long enough in " a place v 184 THE THREE CLASSES. 185 to receive the means of purchasing a new " gound" a bonnet, a bit of ribbon, and a few yards of lace? they would leave without a moment s warning, and stay idly at home, or sporting their finery among their neighbors, until the dress was bedraggled and torn, and the bonnet too shabby for further display, and then they were again ready to inflict them selves upon some poor, sick woman, who must have a few hours service, even, at the price of so undesir able an inmate. The Dutch population were, generally speaking, exceedingly dirty, ignorant, and supremely selfish, unmoved by kindness or compassion, thinking only for the " silver," and taking good care to get as much of that as possible, for the least amount of labor. The colored people were mostly a lazy, good- natured race, content if they could bask in the sunshine, or sit over a large fire in the kitchen knowing just enough of freedom to be unwilling to submit to dictation or control. Mrs. Herbert had never been able to afford steady help, only a few weeks at a time, when in capacitated entirely for labor; and for that reason, she may have had specimens of more amusing or 186 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. singular character, than she would have done, if employing constant assistance. Still her history in that regard, was but a fair average of the experi ence of the community generally. Her first girl was a pretty, rosy-cheeked German, much more amiable and unselfish than most of her people ; but exceedingly careless and unteachable. Always attempting the very things she was not expected or desired to do, and leaving undone those which belonged to her appropriate work, and of course making continually the most unfortunate and trying mistakes. For instance, Mrs. Herbert was one day prepar ing to bake. Her pastry was all ready, and her bread light and sweet, in just the right condition for the oven, when she was interrupted by one of those friends, whose errand of life seems to be to assist patience to perform her perfect work, by making interminable calls on the busiest days of the week, and at the most unfortunate moment. With a sigh, she washed her hands, took off her neat check apron, and prepared to entertain her guest, telling Maggie to finish slicing the apples, and then iron till she returned. The lady s call was unusually protracted, and KIND INTENTION. 187 poor Mrs. Herbert had before her eyes visions of a late dinner, and no desert, which, while she was liberally paid by her boarders, she felt it necessary to supply, especially as the customs of the place made a generous table all-important. After a call of more than an hour, the lady rose, regretting that she could not spare time for a longer tarry, and took her leave. The anxious housekeeper hastened to the kitchen, where Maggie met her with the broadest of smiles. " The madam needn t hurry, and get into a boggle about dinner. I ve made the pies, and have them in the oven, and see, the bread is doing nicely." The kind intention was too manifest not to be met with thanks, though the matron s heart mis gave her ; for, from some specimens of her hand maiden s cooking, she could not hope her pies or bread would be of the best quality. On examin ation, however, the bread seemed right, and was "coming up like a puff," as Maggie said, and the pies when baked were tolerably fair to look upon. So, comforting herself with the thought, that at 188 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. any rate it was too late to help it now, she hastened to finish other arrangements for dinner ; and by the time the family were seated at the table, had regained a very comfortable state of mind. The dinner passed pleasantly through the first course ; but when the pies were set before her, a feeling of doubt again disturbed her, for she imag ined that an unusual flavor was arising from them. But " too late to help it," again came to her aid, and passing a piece to each, she raised her eyes to judge of Maggie s success. One bit had been tasted, and the plate put aside. Stanly sat with the expression of the most ludi crous indifference. Townly and Burgess had made trial, and with one quick glance at Mrs. Herbert, their attention was suddenly attracted to some apparent mystery in the figure of the table cloth. Mr. Herbert was a moment behind the others in the trial; but Mary s suspense was soon ended. The sniff of disgust, and the outburst of laughter, no longer to be restrained, which answered it from O the other victims, was enough ; but as none could, as yet, control themselves sufficiently to speak, or CALL THE GIPSY. 189 reply to her earnest questioning, she was com pelled to taste for herself. " Maggie, Maggie, what have you put into these pies?" But the girl, who had been restlessly passing in and out of the room, hoping to catch a compliment for her skill, had hastily taken herself off with the first explosion. " Surely, my dear," said Mr. Herbert, " you did not let that greenest of all green things make your pies?" "No, indeed; but she set herself to do them, while I was detained by a long call." " And now do tell us, Mrs. Herbert, what has she put in, or rather what has she left out ?" " That is beyond my skill, for such a combina tion I never heard of. There s sage and pepper most certainly, salt, and something else I can t make out, and am hardly willing to taste again for the sake of the knowledge." "The pies were made from the apples of Sodom, I think," said Burgess. " Do call the gipsy, and let s know all about it, just for the fun of the thing." There was no need of calling, for at that moment 190 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. she entered, bundle in hand, and in a towering rage. " There s no gipsy blood in my veins, I can tell you, sir. And Mister Herbert called me green / I se as good a plexion as anybody. And now give me my money." Mrs. Herbert tried to soothe her; but it was of no avail. There was no forgiveness for the insult of being called gipsy, or for disparaging her complexion, and she left in most sublime indig nation. " "Well, I had better look to my bread, or your supper may be as unfortunate as the dessert." " Oh, that was first-rate perfectly unique un surpassed by any French dish in Paris, I dare say. I wouldn t have missed it for anything. Do let us have all the fun you can, and settle the bread ques tion before we go out, for I am hoping that will be of as new a pattern as the dessert," said Stanly, and they laughingly followed her to the kitchen, having received a whispered permission from Mr. Herbert. " See, it is rising beautifully, as the child said. Perhaps she has succeeded in this. Poor thing! she thought to do me a favor." 191 " ]No doubt of that," replied her husband. "But I want a taste of the bread. Just put a piece on the hot stove, and bake us a boy s bis cuit. " " "Well, on one condition that each of you shall taste a piece, no matter what may be in it." The " boy s biscuit " was laid on the stove, and its baking watched with much glee. "When done, Mrs. Herbert divided it into four parts, and handed a portion to each of the gentlemen. "But you have reserved none for yourself. Why so generous, my dear ?" " I didn t promise to try it, but you did, and 1 shall hold you to it." "With some hesitation, each took a piece, and far more quickly ejected it, with the most uncouth grimaces. " We shall never, never forget Lot s wife," said Mr. Herbert. " Oh, dear ! all my bread wasted. Maggie has evidently heard of salt risings, much used out here for yeast, and has given it a very effectual trial." "Well, we ve had a right merry time better than any dessert you could have provided, Mrs. Herbert." 192 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Many thanks for taking it so philosophically, young gentlemen." Some weeks passed, in which Mrs. H. labored unassisted, but was now nearly exhausted. Susie was a quiet, happy little body, but a child of three years must require care, and beside the time drew nigh when her mother would be laid aside from active labor, and she was very anxious to secure some one to relieve her husband from so much toil, and also to make his home rather more com fortable than it had been during some of her illnesses. At the table one day, Mr. Townly said, " Our unfortunate merry-making, some weeks since, de prived you of a girl, and tis but right that we try to secure another. My sister told me this morning that she knew of a colored girl who she thought, in your hands, might become quite useful. Shall I send her, and let you talk with her ?" " I ll answer the question," said Mr. Herbert ; " send her, by all means. I know what you would say, my dear, but discipline must be maintained ; remember, I have decided that you must rest and take life a little easier ; so Townly, send on the maid of all work, (which probably may mean mistress of the whole), as soon as you please." SALLY. 193 In due time, Sally came ; a stout, good-looking yellow-girl. " Where have you been living ?" " At JVlassa Baker." " Why did you leave 2" " L^vs me. Misses and the young folks think colored people ain t good enough to wipe feet on, and their pigs live better than they let me. Might as well be a slave again." " Then you have been a slave ? Are you free now ?" said Mrs. Herbert. " Want to send me back, eh !" said the poor girl, with a half-cunning, half-frightened look. " Baker said Massa Herbert ought to be shot, cause he is sorry for the slave, and I didn t think, if I came here, you d be for i letting on bout me. % " ]STor will we, Sally. Tis true, we are both very sorry that any one should be held in slavery, and I ask the question from kindness, not from curiosity, or an intention to injure you." " Then I se tell you," said she, coming close up to Mrs. Herbert, speaking through her set teeth, < Ise free till they catch me and I ll die before they do that." 9 194 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Well, Sally, if I hire you, what can you do Can you wash and iron ?" " Yes, m." 9 " And keep the house neat and clean ?" " Yes, m." " And do you know anything about cooking ?" " Laws me ! sure I do ; right handy at it, can cook anything, and milk cows, and split wood. Dear me ! I can do anything." " Most too ready at promising," said Mrs. Her bert to herself, " but I may as well try. As I don t expect much, there s no danger of disappointment." And Sally was engaged to come the next day. At the appointed time she made her appearance. Mrs. Herbert spent the chief part of the forenoon, for several days, with her in the kitchen. She seemed rather inefficient, and not over nice ; but as all that had been expected, on the whole, her employers began to natter themselves that she would, in the end, prove quite as reliable as any assistance they might hope to obtain. The first evening she had been directed to pre pare some chickens for the next day s dinner. "When asked if she understood how to do the work correctly, she seemed greatly amused. " Laws POOR COFFEE. 195 sake ! Missis think this chile don t know nothing ; I can do poultry nicer nor anything." Mrs. Herbert felt confident that the girl was not boasting foolishly, in this item of her work, for in a country where game and poultry are so abundant as to be common food for all, surely every one must know all that was needful of the matter ; and, quite contented, she sat down to rest herself with her needle. The next day proved that Sally could "dress chickens any how," if she knew nothing else. For several days, things moved on with some considerable degree of comfort. Sally s want of neatness, which rather increased than diminished, being the most unpromising thing, thus far. But after a while there began to be complaints on the part of Mr. Herbert, corroborated by the other gentlemen, that something was wrong with the coffee. c{ Does our new damsel meddle with it ? for it tastes like boiled dish towels !" " "Why, George ! how can you talk so. Nobody touches the coffee but myself." " Well, then, my dear, you are losing your skill, most certainly, for it has been growing worse and 196 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. wore, and now it is past endurance. Does Sally wash the coffee-pot ?" " Yes ; but if it were not clean, I should know it when I prepare the coffee." "Well, then, the tea-kettle, for there s dirt somewhere, I ll be bound, as Father Tompkins says." As soon as breakfast was over, Mrs. Herbert hastened to the kitchen to make a more careful examination. The coffee-pot was all right, but the tea-kettle! Oh, misery! The sediment at the bottom was overpowering ; and calling Sally, she inquired how feathers and other garbage came in the tea-kettle ! " Laws sake, missis ! and I forgot to rinse it after dressing them chickens." "But what had you to do with the tea-kettle, when about such work ?" " Tears like it heats a sight quicker than tother kettle." Poor IVIrs. Herbert thought she had closely kept her eye on everything that passed through Sally s hands, but after such a specimen, she undertook to go over the whole kitchen arrangements, and the result showed such unutterable filth iness, and in GOD GAVE IT. 197 places so unheard of before, that Sally was at once dismissed. The coffee, next morning, was all that could be desired, and when asked what miracle had " healed the bitter waters," and why she was again the sole occupant of the kitchen, Mrs. Herbert replied with a smile : " Where ignorance is bliss, tis folly to be wise, and trust me, the less you know of the matter the better it will be for your digestion." After two or three weeks had dragged wearily along, Mr. Herbert brought in with him, one after noon, a smart-looking girl, as black as ebony, of whom a friend had told him, giving her an excellent character for neatness, capacity and good morals. The next morning, Mrs. Herbert was too ill to do more than sit in her chair, by the kitchen door, and direct. Rose s work was neatly done; no fault could be found with dinner, and all things worked charmingly. A week from the time Rose came, little Susie was taken, one morning, from her crib, and brought to mamma s bedside, and there lay a tiny little baby brother. 198 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Oh, mamma ! where did you find it ?" " God gave it, my dear." The child s face settled into a deeply thoughtful expression, and she stood for a moment in silence. Then her countenance flushed, and her blue eyes shone brightly, as though she had solved a question of great moment. " Oh, I see ! God put a rope round little brother, and let him down through the little stars. Now Susie knows what the stars are, little holes right up into God s house ; but " (and a look of intense fear crossed her face) "oh, mamma, if the rope had broken this morning, and when papa went out he had found the baby all killed to pieces ! Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! how we should have cried, all of us." " Borrowing trouble already, puss ! Bather early to follow the ways of the world," said Mr. Herbert, laughing ; and went out to see how Rose was succeeding with breakfast. "Doing first rate" was the report ; and everything seemed so encouraging, both as regarded the sick one and the kitchen, that Mr. Herbert left soon after morning prayers, saying he should not be home till dinner-time. WHAT WILL YOU DO NOW? 199 Just before dinner, however, Rose looked in and said, " I m going, missis." "Why, Rose 1" " Oli, Missis Allen will give me a quarter more nor you do." " Well, I ll give you the extra quarter, Rose, for you certainly will not leave me when unable to help myself." Rose departed to her w r ork, and Mrs. Herbert felt quite relieved. But soon after tea, a neighbor s daughter ran in, and said that Rose had just gone, and requested her to tell Mrs. Herbert that Mrs. Allen had offered her another quarter extra, and she left without seeing the missis, " cause she Tcnowed Massa Herbert was not able to give her more than she was already receiving." " Poor George ! what will you do now?" said Mary. "Far better than the woman who could so tamper with a servant s avarice in times of illness ;" and with his usual hopeful and cheerful way, he took upon himself the charge of the next morning s breakfast, making merry over every mistake, and supplying all deficiencies in the cooking, by fur nishing food for healthful laughter. 200 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Now, my dear, the housework is all done up, before Mother Tompkins caught me at it ; but as for dressing that small edition of humanity, I have not courage to make the attempt, and shall step over to our good friends and get some of the women kind, to attend to that business, and while they are here, I ll go hunting." " Hunting, George !" exclaimed his wife. " Yes, hunting help" But the hunt not being successful, the boarders were dismissed. Mr. Herbert attending to the cooking for himself and Susie, while friends took turns in dressing the baby and caring for the mother. When all was in order, little Susie was commis sioned to watch and wait on mamma, while her father left to attend for a short time to parish matters. And the prim little lady would climb into the most dignified chair she could find, and sit demurely any length of time, brushing flies off from mother and brother, or, in some other way, striving to make herself useful. With such a gentle nurse, and her husband s loving care, Mrs. Herbert recovered rapidly, and BABY OTESE. 201 often insisted that she had never been so well cared for in any illness, or so happy, as during those few weeks. And now, more than ever, she was thank ful for a small house, as she could get out about her family duties so much easier, and relieve her husband from care more effectually. And quite too soon for her safety, Mrs. Herbert was again at work, and little Miss Susie raised to the dignity of baby-nurse, an office which she filled with most edifying gravity. For the remainder of the summer, they were without boarders, although their pecuniary affairs were becoming more and more unsatisfactory ; but the garden, under Mr. Herbert s energetic manage ment, was a great assistance, and his wife econo mized even more rigorously than ever. CHAPTEE XIII. THE DONATION PAETT. IT is not my intention to follow our friends very minutely, only glancing here and there at a few of the. most prominent of their joys and sorrows, blessings and trials. Save that she feared her diminished health might prove a hindrance to her husband s usefulness, Mrs. Herbert would be very unwilling to admit that her lot had fallen on the " shady side " of life. She felt deeply her entire separation from her own family friends, and also that her removal to Norton had cut her off from the society of her husband s brother Frank and his wife. Since leaving Glenville, they had not met, and both herself and husband mourned the loss of their kind cooperation and ready sympathy, more than any deprivation that they had as yet been called to meet. But their affection lost none of its brightness by absence, and many a substantial love SISTER AGNES. 203 token came from this dear sister at just the time of utmost need, which, had it occurred in these more spiritually-developed later days, would certainly have been attributed to the interposition of some " spirit messenger." "When the baby was about three months old, a very dear sister of Mr. Herbert s spent some weeks with them, bringing a little one of the same age with Master Frank. This visit was another *of those bright spots, which Mrs. Herbert always loved to recall. Mrs. Ward, or Sister Agnes, was a woman of very uncommon intellectual attainments, and our Mary thought at first that she should never feel at ease with her. Her warm, loving heart, however, soon dispelled all fears, and the sisters spent many happy hours together, and none more so than those employed each morning in bathing, dressing and administering to the wants of their little pets, and talking over their hopes and fears for the future of the beloved ones committed to their care. Little Susie was of course a great favorite with her aunty ; and her quaint, old-fashioned remarks an unfailing source of amusement. The young lady, having three months experience 204: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. in "tending the baby," felt quite competent to advise and caution in the management of her young cousin, and the comical air and mock solemnity with which Mrs. "Ward would receive her counsels, and draw her out, were irresistibly laughable. " Now, aunty, it will never do to let little cou sin s head hang over your lap so." ""Why not, pussy?" "Please don t call Susie pussy. Nobody but papa must say that." "What! not mamma?" " Oh, no. I m mamma s little maid." "Well, and you are Aunt Susie s little quiet mouse, are you not?" " Mice do mischief, and trouble mamma." " And that my little utilitarian would not like to do. But, tell me, why may I not let Franky s head fall over my lap ? Please explain." " Cause Grandma Topsins says it will make babies have crickets" "Rickets, darling, I presume. But what does that mean ?" " I guess it means bad tempered ; cause she said if brother had them he would cry half the time." A PLAN PEOPOSED. 205 About a week before Mrs. "Ward s visit expired, Mrs. Jackson rode over to lay before Mr. and Mrs. Herbert a plan, which, she said, Mrs. Tompkins and some other friends had been arranging, and only waiting for the sanction of their pastor and wife, to carry into execution. Mrs. Jackson had been undeviating in. her kind ness, from the hour they had first met, but her rapidly failing health, and the almost constant sickness of some one of her children, prevented her from seeing our friends as often as she wished. Still no festival day passed without seeing the old family carriage, with black Ben, ready to convey Mr. Herbert s people out to " "Woodlands," where everybody expected a happy time, and were never disappointed. The "plan" was an earnest desire on the part of many friends to give a " donation party r ." " And," said Mrs. Jackson, "I think it can be managed so as to combine much pleasure, with so much of profit as to enable you to pass this winter more comfortably than the last. We wish it very particularly understood, however, that this party, and its proceeds, has nothing to do with your salary. On that you will have just as 206 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. strong a claim as though no party had been given. " I am ashamed that jour promised support has been so niggardly paid ; there is no reason why it should be so. And we desire to give this party, as a strong hint from the ladies, to the gentlemen, of their opinion of the business habits of the church, as well as a proof of our love for, and interest in, you and your family." She then proceeded to inform them that Mrs. Campbell, Susie s foster-mother, with Mrs. Tomp- kins and her eldest daughters, would take charge of everything, and were desirous that Mr. Herbert, and his wife and sister, should spend the appointed day at "Woodlands," and give their house in charge to these ladies, promising that everything should be well cared for, and after the party, re placed in " apple-pie order," with no fatigue for Mrs. Herbert. "There," said Mrs. "Ward, laughing, "just look at Mary, brother George. She is perfectly bewil dered; and, I ll venture to say, Vnows nothing about a donation party. 1 : "I don t understand why the ladies wish us off all day (though, you know, Mrs. Jackson, it ALL A MUDDLE. 207 will be a treat to rest at your pleasant home), nor what they mean by replacing everything." " "Why, your house is very small, and we shall want your furniture moved out of one room for the tea-table, and one of the little rooms for the * offer ing, and the rest of the house for the guests. "I see the housekeeper all over your face, my dear, and in your heart you are beholding visions of endless confusion." " Oh, no ; you only see that tis all a muddle to me. I haven t the least idea how it will be ; but am grateful for the kindness shown, and cer tainly have no fears, but our two dear friends, Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Tompldns, will leave everything in as good, or better condition than they found them. But, Mrs. Jackson, how about my husband s books, table, etc. ? They take up full half the room, and I can t see how many people can find place to stand, in the room you have reserved for company." " Oh, they must all be set out on the veranda." " Now look at George s face, good friends! I appeal to you, if it is not more expressive than mine was a few moments ago. I see the anxious student and book-worshipper, in every lineament." 208 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. The laugh was fully turned upon Mr. Herbert, who candidly confessed that he should never expect to find book or paper again ; but intended to resign himself, with the patience of a martyr, to the infliction. The next week, on Thursday, was appointed for the visit, and Mrs. Jackson said Ben would be round by eight o clock of that morning with the carriage. After Mrs. Jackson left, the subject was fully discussed, and all agreed that, pecuniarily, it would probably not amount to much. " But," said Mrs. Herbert, " we shall have a good opportunity to see our people, and that never does harm." " And I shall become better acquainted with them than by a year s common intercourse, and feel a deeper interest ; so if in the simple matter of dollars and cents (though I would, by no means be understood to speak disparagingly of them), we are no worse off, I m going to be content." "I am rejoiced," said Mrs. "Ward, "that the party is to come off before I leave ; I wouldn t miss it for considerable. I have attended several, and never yet saw one that did not prove a failure. BEAUTIFUL OCTOBEK. 209 But there is an efficiency and sincerity about two or three of those who are to have the management of this affair, that will insure success, if anything will. So 1 shall take great interest in watching the result," " "Well, I am very sanguine, at least, of having a good time books, papers, and confusion to the contrary notwithstanding," said her brother. Thursday came at length; a clear, cheerful, October day, and surely there is no month in all the year that can bring such glorious days; in which simply living is such a luxury ; no month in which it would be so hard to welcome death, and through faith look forward to, and believe in something even more desirable, in the world be yond, as this same bright, beautiful October. And it was on one of her most lovely and invi gorating mornings, that Ben drove up before the parsonage, and the merry, blue-eyed JVIeggie an nounced that all was ready for their reception at " Woodlands," and that Agnes and Nellie, Jessie and Hattie, with a score of young ladies, were only waiting their departure to step in and help the matrons arrange for the evening s entertainment ; while herself and Sister Belle were promised the 210 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. pleasure of nursing the babies, and playing with Susie. She was, furthermore, instructed to inform the friends, that when all was ready, a carriage would be sent to "Woodlands for them ; but they were not to approach within hearing distance till then. A most happy company now entered that com modious old family carriage ; care and forethought were for one day dismissed, as they gave them selves up to the luxury of rest, and the full enjoy ment of their ride, and anticipations of the novel pleasures of the coming evening. It was the first time Mrs. Ward had been at "Woodlands," and delighted w T ith the place, and quite in love with her hostess, she felt, with her brother and his wife, that no day had ever passed so quickly or pleasantly away. At five o clock the promised carriage arrived for the pastor s family, while Mr. and Mrs. Jackson with their children were to follow in their own convey ance. On the way, some surprise was expressed that they were sent for at so early an hour, Mrs. Ward remarking, that it was not customary for such parties to begin till after dark. Instead, however, of driving up to their own house, the carriage RESCUE OR NO RESCUE. 21.1 stopped with them at Mr. Tompkins , where they found Agnes waiting at the gate. " We want you in here for about an hour." " Well, Miss Agnes, that s more than we bar gained for," said Mr. Herbert, " and I am not at all sure I shall submit to any such encroachments on our freedom." " But here comes father, and I think you had better yield, l rescue or no rescue, for you know he has a trick of picking people up and walking off with them." " Ah, sis ! but it won t do to take such liberties with the Dominie. I haven t forgot, though, how to manage a flock of sheep," said he, jumping little Susie through the carriage window with one hand, and taking the baby from Mrs. Herbert in the other. " There, now I ve got the lambs, the old ones will be sure to follow." When they entered the house, Mrs. Herbert and little Susie were led up-stairs by Mrs. Tompkins, and her husband taken off by the old gentleman, Mrs. Ward being left in the parlor to await further developments. " You see, we wanted our minister and his folks to look their best to-night, and reckoned you were 212 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. somewhat in need of new clothes. Here they are ; just you put them on quick. Oh, I can t stop to listen now ! Busy times, you know !" and without waiting to see or hear surprise or thanks, he hastily left Mr. Herbert to array himself in an entire new suit from head to foot. His wife found a similar surprise awaiting her in the chamber to which she was led. A black silk dress and wrought collar, a simple but tasteful head-dress, embroidered handkerchief and white kid gloves, even to the black silk hose and neatly- fitting kid slippers, were all in readiness, and on the table a modest bonnet and substantial shawl. "They won t bite you," said Mrs. Tompkins, laughing heartily at Mrs. Herbert s bewildered look, and giving her a real motherly kiss. " Come, we must see how they look. You ll be wanted in half an hour over to OUT neighbor s across the way" "How did you find out just what we most needed ? and how could you succeed so finely in fitting us?" " Why, my girls and I have eyes for something beside our own dress, and could see that your garments were getting rather rusty. We know PLEASANTLY STJKPEISED. 213 you don t get paid promptly enough to buy aL. that you really need. As for the fit, liattie stole (I told her you d excuse the liberty, I was sure) one of your dresses and a pair of slippers the other day 3 for patterns. I am only afraid Miss Brady hasn t done the work as neatly as you do yourself. Do you know we ve quite an idea of setting up a dress maker s shop, and appointing you to work for tho church ?" " Just to keep you from dying with idleness," said Agnes, coming from the little bedroom adjoin ing, where she had been busy with Susie. "But before you engage the shop, Mrs. Her bert, please look at this young lady, and say if Jessie and Nellie Campbell, sister Essie and myself, may not come in as prentices, 5 when mother s plan takes effect ?" " Headworkmen rather, if this is a specimen of your handiwork. Why, Susie, darling, what have they done to you ?" " See, mamma ! Aunt Aggie made Susie pretty dress and apron, and new shiny shoes, and what a nice new mamma Grandma Tompkins has made you. But mamma mustn t be proud ; Susie ain t a lit" said the little gipsy, glancing demurely at the 214 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. reflection of herself in the mirror, and it may be, that there was less of vanity in the bright smile she met there, than of the innate love of beauty, as she saw a fair, sweet face, rich glossy curls, and a trim little figure, most becomingly clad in blue frock and white apron. "Why, this is fairy-land, my dear; I hardly know myself or you, and wonder if father will." " Perhaps you won t know him," said Mrs. Tomp- kins ; " but as you are now ready, we will go and see." So saying, Mrs. Tompkins led the way to the parlor. There the husband and wife were introduced to each other, with great form, and caused much merriment, and at once organized themselves into a u mutual admiration society," and were both so full of self, as not to spare a glance at the " babies," as Mrs. Ward said, showing them little Meggie, in a recessed window, holding both the little ones, dressed precisely alike. "Only think of my boy s coming in for a share of the donation party." Their kind friends excused themselves for a moment, so as to be ready to escort them to the parsonage, as soon as the signal should be given. WHO WOULD HAYE THOUGHT? 215 "When left alone, Mr. Herbert said, "Who would have thought, less than a year ago, when we received those lectures on economy, that one day we should have cause to rank this family among our most reliable friends, and be indebted to them for some of our most substantial comforts ?" " I should think their consciences might, by this time, be appeased, for surely they have more than compensated for the two hundred dollars, about which they condemn themselves so severely." " That s not the only reason why they love and help you, dear sister. The days you devoted your self to them, when their daughter died, and your dreadful illness in consequence, will never be for gotten." " Oh, I should probably have been sick any way. I was well-nigh exhausted before Annie s illness." " Ah, but the old gentleman has been telling me all about it, while you two were beautifying. I assure you, he has a large, tender heart, under that rough exterior. He wept like a child when he told me how he used to watch outside your door, when you were too ill to see him, and said he, If she had died, my woman and I would never have 216 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. had another happy hour. To think how she wore herself out for us, after all we had said. Ah ! it was heaping coals of fire upon our heads, with a vengeance ! It almost burns me up sometimes, I tell you, Mrs. "Ward. " "Well, said I, I should think you were in a fair way to extinguish the " coals," if you are always in the practice of throwing on such " dampers " as you have been doing since I came in town. I know they look upon you as their best and dearest friends. "< "Well, now! Do tell! Is that so? Then I m happier than I ever expected to be, since my Annie died. " They were now wanted at the scene of the even ing s festivities. When they entered their own door, fresh surprises awaited them. All that was familiar had vanished ; bed, table, books, etc. A pretty carpet covered the floor (a luxury they had never possessed), a nice, chintz-covered, comfort able lounge, fitting in under one of the front win dows, a large, cane-seated rocker, half a dozen chairs to match, a little chair for Susie, and a hand some clock on the mantel. " There, this is all you can be allowed to see just ELDER FAIRCHILD. 217 at present," said Mrs. Campbell ; " the guests will soon arrive, and I have a cover which I must put over this carpet, before they come ; it will take but a minute, and you must be all ready to play hostess. We now resign that place to you, and will only retain the charge of the supper, and placing such gifts as are not handed immediately to you, in the little room destined for them." A long, four-seated wagon was the first to halt before the little gate, and land its troop of old and young. " Good Elder Fairchild, and his dame, with their flock," said Mrs. Campbell, and Mr. and Mrs. Her bert came forward to welcome them ; and then the old lady, as she kissed Mrs. Herbert, said : " I only bring a small token of love, the elder has sent the substantials round to the back door , and she handed a pair of most excellent yarn stock ings for each of the family, even to the gossamer worsted ones for little Frank, spun and knit by her own hands. Her daughters, one twelve and the other fifteen, gave a patchwork spread, beautifully quilted, which they had put together themselves. The two youngest placed in Susie s hands a basket filled 10 218 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. with fancy cakes of maple-sugar, and in another basket a pair of little white chickens. Bill, meanwhile, under Mrs. Campbell s direc tion, had driven round, and was handing out a large bag of flour, a barrel of splendid fall apples, a jug of country molasses, and a jar of butter, so pure and golden that Mrs. Campbell insisted on bringing it into the parlor ; " for," said she, " as there^is no one but the givers here, I couldn t think of mixing it with more that may be sent in, before our pastor and his wife have seen it. Mrs. Fair- child s butter is famous all over the State." And surely never was such butter seen. "I think," said Mr. Herbert, "my wife will at last acknowledge that she has seen butter in the West, that nearly equals her own mother s. That is a compliment you would be proud of, Mrs. Fair- child, if I could just transport you to the * Hill Farm, where I wooed my wife." " I m sure I shall be greatly pleased, if my but ter reminds her of her mother in connection with myself. But hurry it off to the pantry, Mrs. Camp bell, for here come other friends." To save confusion and embarrassment, Mrs. Campbell had just nailed a card to the front gate f A PILL BOX. 219 requesting that the eatables, and heavier gifts, might be taken to the rear entrance, where some one was stationed to receive and label each article, that the giver might be recognized when the gifts were examined. Dr. Marvel and lady soon entered, and shaking hands gravely, the doctor offered Mr. Herbert a pill-lox as his gift. Amidst much laughter, he begged to decline. The doctor pretended to feel quite slighted, and declared that Mrs. Herbert was too much of a lady to refuse a poor fellow s gift, however trifling. A quick glance from Mrs. Mar vel was as quickly understood, and, when the box was offered, she took it with many thanks and a profound courtesy. " Ah !" said her husband, " my wife was a physi cian s daughter, and probably has a more kindly appreciation of the gift than I can be expected to have." " And you, sir, being a clergyman, can perhaps understand what virtue there may be in these," said our old friend Mr. Upton, presenting a set of theological works. " I m sure they are all Greek to me." "Oh! just what I was longing for, and most 220 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. hopelessly, the very last time I was in Stanley s book-store. Notwithstanding they are Greek to you, friend Upton, I trust you will not doubt they are most acceptable to me." " Are you afraid of opening that pill-box, Mrs. Herbert ?" said Upton, laughing. " Oh, no ! IVe enjoyed a peep at it, all by my self. My husband has no curiosity, but all who will, may share with me in looking, but not hand ling or tasting /" and opening the box, she displayed a number of gold pieces, which, when Mr. Her bert saw, he assured her he was on the instant struck with illness, which only such medicaments could remove. A handsome box of knives from Townly, and a plain, white dining set from Stanly, and a pretty china tea-set from Burgess, their old boarders, in duced Mrs. Campbell to tell them "they were hinting a wish to return to their old table comforts again." "Rather, I think," said their former hostess, smiling, "betraying a knowledge that the table conveniences were rather limited." "!N~o breach of confidence, I trust," said Stanly, " If it is," said Mr. Herbert, " we certainly feel THE EEPAST. 221 more c honored in the breach than in the observ ance. " We will not stop to comment on each new arri val, or the many sportive remarks between the givers and receivers. In a short time the house was filled to its utmost capacity. About nine o clock, supper was announced. The ladies had found it necessary, as the parsonage was too small, to spread their table in an empty tene ment belonging to the premises, only a step from the house, and the guests were requested to follow the pastor and his lady at once to the room, where they found such a table as none but real western hospitality could spread. It would take too much space to attempt a minute description. Tea and coffee, which neither China nor France could sur pass ; the richest of cream, in no stinted measure. Every imaginable kind and form of cake, pies, bread, biscuit, and sweetmeats. Ham, tongue, turkey, chickens, birds and game baked meats, ornamented with every fancy that the genius of cookery could devise were there, most tastefully decked with vines and flowers. The supper passed off without a shadow to mar the enjoyment. Even the little folk, for once, had 222 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. no cause to complain that they were overlooked, or had not an opportunity to taste all, and as much as their parents would allow. From the table they returned to the parsonage, and the following hymn, written for the occasion, was sung : FOR THE DONATION VISIT TO REV. GEORGE HERBERT. AIR Ariel. In social harmony we meet With heart and hand each other greet, In friendship s warm embrace ; Thankful for common mercies shared Nor less to meet, as we are spar d, In this thrice-happy place. Not from the well-springs of the heart, Should joy s full streams flow on apart, But mingle into one ; The generous vine supported lives, Strengthened by the embrace it gives, In either shade or sun. Pastor and people here convene, And mingle in one grateful scene Of thankfulness and joy ; And while with gifts our hands are stor d, Our hearts unite, with full accord, In love without alloy. 223 When "in one place, with one accord ;" As the disciples of our Lord In ancient times were met, The Spirit came, with mighty power And the brief record of that hour Inspires his followers yet. The age of miracles is past But love divine will always last, And love from man to man ; The heart, warm d by the Spirit s flame, In every age abides the same, Through one all-glorious plan. " Love never fails " but e er abides And, joinM with duty, well provides For laborers faithful found ; Sure, then, our task must pleasure be Now to reward fidelity, With genius richly crowned. Mr. Herbert then offered a fervent prayer, and with many kind words the company gradually departed, leaving behind them and carrying with them tenfold more love for each other than they had ever felt before. As their friends were leaving, it was not strange that the thought should cross Mrs. Herbert s mind, " How are we ever to put our rooms in order, so as to be able to sleep to-night, and now past 11 o clock?" 224 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. The beds, furniture, etc., had been placed in the back yard, and the books on the veranda. But she soon saw that the managers were not intending to leave their work half done. A kind hint, kindly taken, dispersed all who were not needed for effectual service. Four or five ladies and a dozen gentlemen remained, and, refusing any assistance from the family, were at once busy in " repairing damages" as Townly said. In an inconceivably short time, the beds were up and made, and little Susie and the babies snugly sleeping in their appropriate resting-places. Books, as if by magic, walked back into their proper nooks, and in less than an hour one could hardly realize what lively scenes had just been passing there. As the young gentlemen said good night, one of their number, in the name of the whole, presented Mr. Herbert with a pocket-book, and good Mother Tompkins said, " all is in order, except the sweep ing. "We ve had girls at work doing up dishes, and putting away the food, and in the morning you will only have to place the articles to suit yourself. Each lady has carried home with her all her own dishes, and you will have nothing to send back 225 Some of us will see you in the course of the day -to-morrow. Good night." And with the warm thanks and true love of their pastor s family, the good mothers in Israel departed. The parcel handed by the young man contained fifty dollars. " And now, sister Susan, do you call this party a failure ?" said Mr. Herbert, when the last guest had departed. " Certainly not, as far as enjoyment goes, for I have never spent a more delightful evening." " And I am sure," said Mary, " you can t call the gifts a failure. Their pecuniary value, judging only from the little I have seen, is fourfold more than I dreamed of." " Well, I shan t decide about that till I ve seen all. The fact is, I must confess to a large share of Eve s curiosity. I doiibt if I can sleep well till I take a peep into the pantries and that little bed room. Are you sleepy, Mary 2" " Not a bit." " Nor you, George ?" " No, not I. I m perfectly ready for an explor ing expedition. We ll take the pantries first." The flour, meal, pork, ham, chickens, eggs, and 10* 226 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. butter and vegetables, were of no trifling value. As for the cooked food, Mrs. "Ward said they would have to make a party every day in the week, and invite the town, in order to save it. In the little room were several pieces of flannel, of various qualities, lengths and colors. Two webs, or " cuts," as they were called, of bleached cotton, two delaines, and three calico dresses for Mrs. Her bert, several for the children. Gloves, hosiery, thread, pins, needles, tape, and something of almost every article that seamstress or housekeeper could ask for, which, together with the new suits which they had on, the parlor furnishing and the money, Mr. Herbert calculated would amount to more than two hundred dollars. " What an assistance this party will prove," said Mary. " And then to be relieved from the painful necessity of bringing our affairs before our people, and insisting upon the prompt payment of our promised support, or being compelled to leave just as we have begun to love them. This kind ness will, at least, enable us to defer the evil day, and to settle two or three bills, which have mor tified me exceedingly." " Ah, sister ! have you already become so WHAT WILL BE THE EFFECT? 227 acclimated as to be content to defer the evil day?" "No, indeed! anything but content; but is it not best, when all your efforts will not overcome an evil, to try and hope that, while you endeavor to endure it patiently, something more potent than your feeble struggles may come in by and by, and remove it altogether. I hardly dare hope it, and yet, there is so much of real good feeling, so much heart among this people, that they only need some shock to rouse them to the sense of their duty, and that once done, I do not fear their settling down into thoughtlessness again." " Perhaps the only thing that will do that, may be the loss of a minister whom they love so well, as I have not a doubt they do brother George." " That would be as painful to us as it could be to them," said Mr. Herbert ; " but if that is the only way, then there is this comfort, that whoever takes my place will be benefited by their wak ing up." "I doubt it. But if the money you have received to-night must go to pay debts, which their remissness has compelled you to contract, when these provisions are exhausted, will the influence FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. of this party be, to make your people more prompt in their future payments ; or rather, will it not be used as an excuse for greater remissness in future ? That was what I feared when the party was first proposed. It has been the effect of all that have come within my knowledge. How will it be with your people ?" " "Well," said Mr. Herbert, somewhat sadly, " I fear our people will prove no exception. Those who have the charge of the monetary affairs of the church, had nothing to do with this pleasant day, and, I noticed, were not among the callers, even. The whole thing has been planned and executed by warm personal friends, who would gladly give us double the salary we now have, and pay us promptly, if they i were to the fore? " " Then, why don t they make a commotion, and place the management in the hands of those who will do their duty." "Why? Just because they don t like to seem to interfere don t like trouble, etc. Excepting good old Father Tompkins, they have the true western dislike of any extra exertion, and trust to time to Iring all right. They are energetic enough in making money, but have serious objections to any KINDNESS FKOM THE HEAUT. self-sacrih ce of ease or quiet, for other people, especially for the support of preaching. It is a great fault of character in this country, though one which, I think, will change as the country grows older; but it will not be in my day, however. There are scores of ministers worse paid than I am ; but those who come after us will reap the fruit of our toil and self-denial. " But for this one night, I will hang care, and forget, as long as I can, in the memory of the pleasure we have just enjoyed, the perplexities which will make themselves heard soon enough, I dare say. At any rate, the kindness this day mani fested was Teal and from the heart, and we will overlook the faults and short-comings of some, in the sincere love and good intentions of others. And now, good night." CHAPTER XIV. A WELCOME VISIT AND A SAD PAKTING. -A FEW weeks after the " donation visit," a very deal friend and relative of Mrs. Herbert came from the East, to reside for some time in her family. It was a rich treat to see an old, familiar face, and to be able to ask those endless questions of home and its inmates, which can never be asked, or an swered satisfactorily, by writing. Helen Mason had spent some weeks at Dr. Leighton s just before leaving the East. She was an orphan, and almost like a child to Mrs. Leighton, and had been as a sister to .Mary before her marriage. Mary s parents were now alone, their children scattered all over the land. Harry and John were both in college, though the latter s health, it was feared, would prevent his com pleting his education in a manner satisfactory to himself. 230 INCREASING POPULARITY. 231 Harry was on his last year at college, and would, immediately after leaving, enter upon the study of medicine. It was sad to think of her parents left soli tary in the evening of life; but Helen assured her she had never seen them happier, though the doctor was less active than in former years. In the pleasant society of her husband, aided by her cousin s busy fingers, the winter and spring passed more pleasantly in many respects than the last, though darkened somewhat by the old trouble of non-payment, and the fear of being eventually compelled to leave, on that account. They were determined to put off that day as long as possible, for though they felt how utterly inexcusable, not to say dishonest, such laxity was, yet their hearts clung very closely to their people, notwithstanding all, and they shrunk with intense pain from the bare idea of leaving them. Mr. Herbert was rapidly growing in the estima tion, not only of the inhabitants of Norton, but his talent and influence were becoming widely known and appreciated throughout the State. Protracted meetings were common, and on those 232 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. occasions he was invariably sought after, and was often absent weeks at a time. His people were very prond of his popularity, or, as Mr. Upton, in his outspoken manner^ often told them, " were very ready to show off his i good points J but never willing to pay for them, excepting in words, and some of these days they would receive their reward, by seeing some church walk off with their " Dominie, who could just as highly appreciate, and were more ready to compensate labors per formed." Yery many applications had been already made and quietly declined, though Cousin Helen once told him she intended to report every one she could hear of, and try if that would not scare the people of Norton into seeing the folly of expecting him to labor without remuneration. But Mr. Herbert always said : " ISTo, if honor and a sense of justice can t induce them to do their duty, I certainly shall not attempt to influence them through fear or self ishness." Late in the spring, Mrs. Jackson began to show symptoms of decline. She had taken a sudden cold, and was now confined to her bed, with little hope of recovery. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert saw her SUDDENLY RALLYING. 233 almost every day, and were pained at the rapid failure of lier strength. Dr. Marvel trusted at first, if she lingered till June, she might rally, for some months at least, but now there seemed little hope of that. Mrs. Herbert had never realized, till now, how much she had depended on this tried friend, for sympathy and comfort at all times. She was ever gentle and unobtrusive, and there was a charm about her that won all hearts. One warm, cheerful morning, Mr. Herbert came home from a visit to their sick friend, and reported that the last few days of settled warm weather had produced a most wonderful effect upon her, so much so that her family were feeling encouraged, and she had herself admitted that she felt equal to an old- fashioned visit from her pastor s family. He had therefore promised that they would come to dinner, and spend the day. Ben was to be round for them in an hour or two. Mrs. Herbert appeared troubled, fearing it would be too much for her friend; "and be sides," said she, "this sudden rallying frightens me." " If it were not so warm, and so near June, I 23 i FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. should myself be greatly alarmed ; but whatever may be the result of her present comfortable state, she has set her heart on this visit, and her family are unwilling she should be disappointed. You can easily judge if the excitement is likely to injure her, and if so, we can leave at any time. None of us need be in her room any longer than she can see us without fatigue ; and aside from Mrs. Jackson s urgency, one thing that induced me to consent to the arrangement was the worn, dispirited looks of Jessie and Hattie. They have been so long con fined, and have suffered so much anxiety for their mother, that I thought a little cheerful society might be beneficial." Ben came promptly, and soon conveyed them to the pleasant home at Woodlands. To Mrs. Her bert s surprise, they found the invalid sitting up. and looking so bright and lovely, that Cousin Nellie could not realize that there was any danger. But to the more experienced eyes which were watching her, it was a loveliness most intensely painful. She received them with all her usual gentleness, and more than the usual affectionate- ness, saying, she could not have borne the disap pointment, had they not come. I AM DYING. 235 After a short time, the gentlemen went out for a walk, and the daughters took Helen and the children into the garden, leaving Mrs. Herbert with their mother. The friends conversed freely, for some time, recalling their first meeting, and all the way they had been led to their present friendship. A short silence ensued, each too busy with thought, for words. At length, Mrs. Jackson took Mary s hand, and looking earnestly into her face, said " "What do you think of my case ? You, surely are not deceived, with the rest of my dear ones, by this revival of strength ?" The suddenness of the question quite startled her friend, and before she could reply, Mrs. Jackson added : " It was for this I wished so much to see you, but fear I may have taxed your friendship too far. You need not reply to my question, dear Mrs. Her bert ; I know that my days are numbered. I shall not live a week ; I do not think I shall see another rising sun. But my poor husband and children are sadly deceiving themselves with falsl hopes, which, to my surprise, Dr. Marvel does not discou rage. I have not the strength or heart to tell them that I am dying. "Will not you and Mr. Her- 236 FROM DAWK TO DAYLIGHT. bert tell them the truth ? And the sooner after din ner, the better for them, poor things I" " What makes you think so, dear Mrs. Jackson ? You look so much better, your voice is clearer, and in every way, you seem stronger than I have known you for weeks." " Ah ! dear friend, my disease is a deceitful one; but I am thankful that I am not myself blinded by it. In this sudden increase of strength, I read a warning to set my house in order imme diately, and with my lamp trimmed, and burning, be ready for the bridegroom, at any moment. " I see a hand you cannot see, It beckons me away.* " Do not weep for me. All is peace, and I think I am ready to depart ; only my poor, weak heart shrinks from saying this to my loved ones, and coward-like, I have laid the burden on you." " Oh ! do not say so. My husband and myself will gladly spare you any pain but " " But you know, my friend, that I am not mis taken. I saw it in your startled look, and pallid face, when you entered my room. I think your husband understands it also, for his prayer with me A HARD TASK. 237 this morning was that ol a faithful pastor, by a death-led. Oh, you have both been such blessings to me and mine ! Do you know, Meggie yesterday told me she thought she had found the Saviour, and now as my last lamb is gathered into the fold, I am willing to leave them all with the good Shepherd, and go home to rest and heaven." Poor Mrs. Herbert ! It was a hard task to go out to that hospitable board, where she had so often sat with its gentle mistress, bearing in her heart such a message, and yet bound to conceal it till they had taken the last cheerful meal together, they would probably know for a long time. But she bore her part in the conversation so calmly, that not even her husband perceived she was con cealing anxiety, under a quiet exterior. As soon as she left the table, she stepped aside with Mr. Herbert, and told him of Mrs. Jackson s request. She found him less surprised than she had been, and also learned that, while walking with Mr. Jackson, he had intimated to him what he feared. They thought it best to return at once to the family, when Mr. Herbert would, as gently as possible, inform them what was so much to be apprehended, 238 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Very tenderly was this most painful of all duties, which falls to a pastor s lot, performed. And deeply did Mr. Jackson grieve, and bitter were the tears shed by those loving children, for, though they had long feared this, when was ever the heart prepared to yield up its treasures ? When did Death ever find friends ready for his immediate approach ? But he was nearer to the sorrowing group than any imagined, save the one for whom they mourned. She was not surprised, or taken unawares. While they sat weeping over their pastor s com munication, they were hastily summoned to the sick-room. She still sat where Mrs. Herbert had left her, but oh ! how changed ! The bright rose tint had fled from her cheek, the death damps were on her brow ; but the eye still shone with unutter able tenderness, and the old, familiar, and most beautiful smile, still hovered about her lips. "Thanks, dear friends! Your message was de livered none too soon. I am going fast, and so happy ! My dear husband my precious children !" One gasp an instant s struggle and she has safely passed the dark river, and " Life s fever fit is o er." BEREAVEMENT. 239 Little Maggie, with a scream, threw herself at ner mother s feet, and buried her face in her lap, and the rest stood, stricken dumb, or paralyzed by the suddenness of the blow. Mr. Herbert knelt a moment by the side of the dear saint, and poured out a prayer for comfort and support; then rising, took her gently in his arms, and laid her on the bed, while Mrs. Herbert, approaching, closed those eyes, that but a moment before were beaming with love on the sad weepers around her; then taking her husband s arm, passed silently out, leaving the family alone with their dead ! Poor Mary ! the daughters could hardly have felt more truly bereaved. Mr. Herbert left her for a short time, to procure such assistance as was needed, and then returned to report to Mr. Jackson, and offer any other service, in his power to render. He found his wife comforting, by her silent sympathy and tenderness, the sorrowing family, and Mr. Jackson thanked him with tears for the relief from present arrangements, which his thoughtful kindness had afforded him. While they were yet speaking, a carriage drove rapidly to the door, and the driver hurriedly 24:0 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. inquired for Mr. and Mrs. Herbert. Instinctively, all felt that some other trial was near. . "Mrs. Tompkins was taken ill last night, and Dr. Marvel now thinks cannot live an hour. She is exceedingly anxious to see you both, immediately." It was a terrible shock to all. " Why," said Mr. Herbert, " it was only at sunset last evening, that I stood with her at the gate, and she seemed as well and cheerful as ever." Cousin Helen and the children were called, and the pastor and his family turning, with heavy hearts, from these dear friends, were soon on their way to the probable death-bed of another of their best and truest supporters. Few words were spoken, for Mary, who had struggled bravely with her tears while at Mr. Jack- son s, could no longer restrain them, and her kind husband, feeling that it would be a relief, and enable her more calmly to meet the trial in prospect, al lowed her to weep unrestrainedly for some minutes. But as they drew near the house, which had been to them a second home, he laid his hand fondly on hers, saying : " My dear wife, try now to compose yourself, that we may, to the best of our abilities, comfort IS THEEE ANY HOPE ? 24:1 the stricken friends to whom we go. It is very, very trying; but my Mary will forget her own grief for a time, to soothe and support those who must be even more deeply afflicted." " Yes, dear. But, oh ! George, these last few hours are so like a horrible dream." u We shall find it a sad reality, and must look for strength from on high. Yain is the help of man, and never more truly realized, than in such dark hours as these." Nellie and the children went directly to the par sonage, but Mr. and Mrs. Herbert entered the house of mourning, and were met at the door by Dr. Marvel. " Is there any hope ?" asked Mr. Herbert. " Not a shadow ! You. must hasten. She has taken leave of husband and children, and-I think the spirit lingers only for you, to find release from the most terrible sufferings I ever witnessed. She is easier now, but just gone !" They passed quietly to her bedside. What a change in one short day ! But, oh ! how full of love unutterable was the smile with which, she greeted them ! Taking both their hands, and carry ing them to her cold lips, she said, feebly : 11 242 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " I waited but for this. In an hour least ex pected the summons came, but I trust it found me not unprepared. Bless you, my dear children, for such you are to me. To your friendship and love, my daughter, and your faithful teachings, my dear son, I owe the happiest and purest days of my life. I leave my poor husband to your tenderness, and gentle ministrations, for the few days that separate us ; and my children you will not cease to pray for, and watch over them. God comfort and bless you all!" A shadow passed over her face the light faded from her eye, the feeble breath grew fainter and fainter. " She is gone," said Dr. Marvel ; but suddenly she opened her eyes the films of death lifting for a moment, she looked lovingly on each sad face, and tried to speak; but again darkness encompassed her, and after a short, faint struggle, Mary, for the second time that day, closed the eyes of one, who had been to her a blessing and support. How much she had loved, trusted and leaned upon her, as an unfailing friend, she had never realized till now. The death of two, so widely known, and highly THE DEPAETED ONES. 243 esteemed, cast a shadow over the whole commu nity. They were among the first settlers of the town, coming to take up their abode there, when one store, a log church, and four log cabins were all that constituted the village. Mrs. Jackson s death had been long expected ; and though sudden at last, the shock could not be as severe as Mrs. Tompkins removal had occasioned. But a day before, and she was, to all appearances, well, and none seemed more sure of many years, of health and usefulness. She was attacked late at night, with a chill, which terminated in congestion. The next Sabbath, the day appointed for the two funerals, was one long to be remembered. Few who were present will ever forget their pastor s sermon, and the strong affection he so freely and publicly manifested for both the departed ones, made it even more impressive. He had felt all the morning that it would be only by a great effort that he could go through the services, it was so like preaching a mother s funeral sermon. But when he ascended the pulpit, and saw before him those two coffins the double loss, to himself and wife, aside from grief for the weeping families before him, overcame 244 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. him for a moment, and he bowed his head upon the Bible before him, to hide emotion he could not suppress. I will dwell no longer on this part of my narra tive. Each reader can imagine such a burial far better than I can describe, and the return to two such homes, made desolate. To Mr. and Mrs. Herbert the loss was irreparable, and though many, very dear, yet remained, none were ever found to fill the places in their hearts, which these beloved friends had occupied. CHAPTEE XV. A JOUENET. WE will pass lightly over the record of the next year, marked by no incident which will materially increase whatever interest may be found in these pages, but filled with those little corroding cares and anxieties that eat away health, and courage, like a canker. Labor beyond the strength, the closest management and increasingly poor pay, are things which do not make any great sensation in a story, but they fill early graves as surely as broken hearts or disappointed affections ; and it was such cares which were withering the roses on Mary s cheek, and making her husband prematurely old. Mrs. Herbert s failing health was a source of great sorrow to her husband, and of no little un easiness to herself. The chills and fever, which had afflicted her for more than two years, had severely tried her naturally fine constitution, and 245 246 FKOH DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. now there were indications which led them to fear serious affection of the lungs. Her cousin s presence with them had been a most, invaluable assistance and blessing. She was a charming girl, very lovely in person, and in char acter still more attractive. Always cheerful, and never idle, she was one of the very few persons who can reside for any length of time in a family, and never be a restraint. She had been with them some months, when certain calls began to wear a somewhat suspicious charac ter. Mr. Francis was a business man of the place, somewhat older than Mr. Herbert, but an intimate friend. Within the year, he, together with a large number, of whom Helen was one, united with the church. He was a man whom most would call eccentric, and not very likely to be a general favorite; but possessing many sterling traits of character, calculated to attach those who under stood him very strongly, and when once they had learned to judge him by his heart, his peculiarities were sources of perpetual amusement, rather than any annoyance. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert had fancied him from the first, and a warm friendship had sprung up between PROPOSALS. 24:7 them ; but they were quite taken by surprise when they learned that there was a stronger feeling than friendship in his regard for Helen. Like an honorable man, he applied to those who were her most natural advisers and guardians, be fore in any way intimating his wishes to the lady. "When their astonishment would allow them to think calmly, they frankly told him that his age was their only objection, and if Miss Helen could overlook that, certainly no one else need be troubled by it. With their permission, therefore, he proceeded at once to make known his feelings to their cousin, in a frank and manly manner. To her it was as unexpected as to her friends, but she had long known him, and once known, it was not hard for one so persevering to teach her to love as well as esteem. Of course their engagement gave rise to a great variety of remarks, of little consequence to any, and certainly of none to the parties concerned. Mr. Francis was earnest, but very reasonable, and felt that he ought not to urge an early day for their marriage, on Mrs. Herbert s account. An other son had, within a few weeks, been added to 24:8 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. tlieir number, and as the mother continuing more than usually weak, her cousin determined to re main with her some months longer, and take a larger amount of care upon herself, by way of making experiments in housekeeping. "When Mrs. Herbert was able to go out a little, she was urged to spend a week or two with her husband at his brother Frank s. A revival being in progress among his people, George s assistance, in a series of meetings, was yery desirable. All her friends were urgent that the visit should be made, and Helen said : " You will never have a better time ; for it is not always that you will be able to leave your family in such competent hands." But, though she greatly desired to go, none knew so well as herself, that they ought not to spare the money necessary to take them to Stan- wood, and home again. To Mr. Francis credit, he was the first to suspect the true reason, and one evening, as he was leav ing, said: " Mrs. Herbert, you ll go with your husband, to morrow, I m sure. It don t take you long to get ready for any movement ; and Helen, I think, can THIRTY BRIGHT REASONS. 249 give you some new reasons in favor of the joiirney, which you have not yet taken into con sideration." " I can t imagine what they can be, for I thought all that could be said had been exhausted long ago. I need no urging, and if I consulted my wishes only, I should not hesitate, I assure you. But I honestly feel that I ought not to go, and here s my good husband (much as he wishes it) dare not tell me that it would be right to do so." " Well, don t be too sure. If Helen s reasons don t outweigh yours, I ll give it up. Good night." "Well, Helen," said Mr. Herbert, as Mr. Francis closed the door, " what are the wonderful reasons ? I am sure I shall be under infinite obligations to your friend, if they are such as Mary will think sufficient to justify her accompanying me." " They are not so wonderful as substantial," said she, handing Mary some gold pieces. " Here are thirty "bright reasons at any rate, even if they do not prove strong ones, and the offer from Mr. Francis of the loan of a fine horse and buggy, if you will go. If not, you can t have either the money or the conveyance. What have you to say now?" 11* 250 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Nothing, but to thank your friend most heartily. My only objection was the expense." " What a husband you will have, cousin Nell ! You ought to be proud of him. I hear daily of just such acts, secretly performed ; but these deeds of kindness will creep out. He can t conceal them always." The journey was deferred one day, that Mary need not be hurried. The first part of their route took them across the same road they had passed when they came to Norton, and at first they could not but think sadly of the many changes, since that time. But the freedom from care, and the pleasure anticipated in meeting once more the dear brother and sister to whom they were going, soon dispelled all sadness, and they both entered into the full enjoyment of the ride, with the enthusiastic relish of young children. " This is entirely a new experience for us, my dear Mary," said Mr. Herbert. " It makes me feel quite boyish. If I could see a little more color in those pale cheeks, and you d just put the baby into your travelling-basket, I could almost imagine I was taking that first ride, in the early days of our courtship, over the dear old Massachusetts hills." STALLED COMPLETELY. 251 " You will have to shut your eyes before you can well imagine anything like our home Mils in this flat, boggy region, and with you eyes closed, you can, at the time, forget my baby and pale face, and give me a specimen of some of those fine speeches you used to make. I should quite enjoy, and no doubt be better able to appreciate them, than in the olden times." " Ah ! here we are * stalled completely. I must defer my complimentary speeches, and request your ladyship to alight, while I search for rails to pry our wheels up to i terra firma once more." A peculiar feature in western travelling, is the deep mud or "slew holes," which often occasion teamsters and travellers much annoyance. As in the present instance, the road gives no indication of deeper mud in one spot than another, when, without any apparent change, you find your car riage sinking up to the hubs in deep, black mud, as adhesive as wax. After many ineffectual attempts, George suc ceeded in raising the wheels so as to rest them, somewhat, on the rails he had used for levers, and Mary, with her child in her arms, took hold of the bridle, to encourage Charley to make one grand 252 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. effort, while his master tugged at the wheel, and bj their united exertions, succeeded at last in gaining mud of a more comfortable depth. " A very pleasant little episode, by way of variety," said Mr. Herbert, when they were again under way ; " but I shall be obliged to let all love- making alone, Mary, dear, till we are through Black Swamp, and attend more carefully to my horse. It was all my own fault, getting into diffi culty this time." " I m sure I don t see how you make that out. I saw no difference. The road appears all mud, and no worse at that point than anywhere else." " But don t you perceive that the tracks all pass round that particular spot, showing it to be a troublesome, if not impassable place ? I have had too much experience in such things, not to have known better than to have been caught as I was. But we are over the worst of our journey; and though early in the afternoon, shall be obliged to stop at the next hotel. "We cannot reach the second till too late for safe travelling over these roads. I am sorry, for the first tavern is a poor one." " It is >/)onlight, and I have no fears, with you AN IMPOSING BUILDING. 253 for a driver. A ride after sunset will be delightful, I tliink; certainly far preferable to an uncom fortable resting-place for the night." "Thank you for your confidence in my skill; but if we go on, we shall have some ten miles after dark, without passing a single house ; and a break-down would be rather inconvenient, or a night spent in a bog-hole, more disagreeable than a dirty house, and not quite as safe for Master Harry. See, Charley smells his oats, and yonder is the * house of entertainment for man and beast. " " What, that large two-story new house ? I have not seen so imposing a building since we left home. We shall surely find comfortable quarters here, and you have been slandering it, just to tease me. At your old tricks. You have indeed gone back to your younger days," said Mary, spor tively. " We shall soon see. I only speak from report, having never tried it myself." They were shown into a large room, with two beds. The front door opened at once into it, with out any hall, or entrance, and the " bar," in a re cessed corner, opposite the door, was the most prominent object in the room. 254: FROM. DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Leaving Mary here, Mr. Herbert went to see after the comfort of his faithful horse, saying he would soon return, and make arrangements for a room, where she could wash and rest awhile before supper. Mrs. Herbert thought she had had some know ledge of these country " places of entertainment ;" but for dirt and discomfort, this was far beyond her experience. Several vulgar, profane men were at the bar, some smoking, some drinking, and all of them boisterous. Three or four forlorn-looking children were romping about the room, peering in to the travellers faces, and asking all manner of impertinent questions. That could have been overlooked, but their unkempt hair, torn and filthy garments, and faces that looked as though water was an unknown article, were- exceedingly disgusting and almost intolerable. Several other travellers had alighted from the stage just as our friends drove up, and were seated, quite at home, on beds, chairs, or stools, as they fancied. " "Well, Mary," whispered her husband, " what do you think of this c imposing house, thus far ?" " Not much, if this is the best of it. But you UNPLEASANT PKOSPECTS. 255 /see this room is public property. Perhaps we shall find our apartments more prepossessing, and the table may prove quite tolerable for hungry travel lers. But I see no " woman-kind " about the estab lishment. That sad, ghost-like looking Mr. Allison, is, apparently, host, hostess, and all." Mr. Herbert left her to inquire about a room, but soon returned, with a comical expression which contrasted rather suspiciously with his words. "You are partly right, my dear. Our apart ments are rather imposing ; but we will, defer a visit to them till after supper, which is nearly ready." " But, George, I want to wash and put myself and baby a little to rights, before trying to eat. Can t I see the landlady ?" " Oh ! you and Harry are as clean as you will be after washing, I assure you, and quite as likely to relish your supper now, as after you have been to your room. As for the landlady, she is c snoring drunk in that little room off there. No wonder Mr. Allison looks disheartened and wretched. It is said he is a right clever fellow, and would do well if his wife did not paralyze all his efforts oy her outrageous habits. A little one, not older than 256 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ours, lies in a cradle by her side, a most loath some and forlorn object." Supper was announced, and they followed into a long, cold, cheerless apartment, unutterably dirty, where the table was spread. A cloth, ragged and unwashed, covered the rough boards that had been nailed together by no skillful hand, and dig nified with the name of table ; and the food could any degree of hunger make that palatable? It might be, but Mrs. Herbert had riot yet reached the proper stage of starvation. "Shut your eyes and open your mouth, and make an effort, my dear," whispered her hus band. Meats of various kinds were passed, but some foreign ingredient in each compelled Mary to de cline, however reluctant to distress the poor land lord by so doing. Some biscuit which could only be compared to balls of dried putty honey, black as tar, garnished with the wings and bodies of the industrious little manufacturers and the butter, how could she venture upon that ? " A cup of tea, if you please." It was brought, and the milk-pitcher and black maple sugar placed before her. The sugar she THE SUPPER. 257 declined, but poured some milk into her tea. The instant it touched the hot liquid, it rose in a thick curd to the top ! Mr. Herbert, meanwhile, who sat by her side, pretended to be busy with the preparation of his own food ; but was in reality roguishly enjoying the increasing hopeless expression of his wife s face. At last he said : " Take a boiled egg, Mary, no dirt can find its way inside of that; and really this ham looks quite inviting. Come, try it, dear, ./never saw the food vet, that I could not manage to eat of, and you will be obliged to learn the same lesson, if you travel much in this country, I assure you." The ham she declined, perceiving, at the moment, an appendage to the piece on her husband s plate, which effectually destroyed all desire for it, and, by which she intended, by and by, to turn the laugh against him. She took the egg, and break ing it, found it contained more than she expected and laid it quietly aside. Her husband could hardly refrain from laughing. This little " aside " occupied but a moment. To hide his merriment, he took up his knife and fork, and cut a piece of bam with a most resolute air, found he had, at the 258 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. same time, dissected a nicely-fried cockroach ! A glance at Mary s face upset his gravity (his appe tite had gone before), and rising hastily, he made some excuse about caring for his horse, and Mary rose a moment after to attend to her T)dby. But Mr. Herbert will be careful how he tells his wife again, that he never saw the table where he could not glean a meal ! When he returned, Mary was beginning to feel uneasy at his long tarry, but he informed her, that Charley had, against his express orders, been most improperly fed, and was very sick. The landlord and himself had been doing all that could be done, till morning, and he added : " As the stage passed here two hours ago, and there is no other till day after to-morrow, we have the very delightful prospect of tarrying for at least two days, should the horse remain ill." " But tis getting late, and we may as well retire to the c imposing apartment, here provided." Imposing indeed ! The whole of the upper story was before them, without a partition, and containing four exceedingly uninviting beds, one of them, to Mary s confusion, being occupied by two snoring Dutchmen, and the one nearest her WILD BEASTS ABKOAD. 259 own, by a woman and three children, the youngest using his lungs right lustily. Mary told her husband he might venture to try the bed if he chose, but she was afraid of being devoured alive, or something worse, if she tried to rest on such vile-looking affairs. Mr. Herbert determined to risk the trial ; and taking a clean towel from her travelling-basket, his wife pinned it around the brown and stained pillow, and spread the buffalo robe on the floor for her babe, covering him with her shawl. Then drawing a chair near the baby, she seated herself with her feet on the rounds, and her dress carefully gathered off from the floor, preferring to pass the night as a watcher. It was but a short time after all the arrange ments had been made, when both father and child, who, from fatigue, had quickly fallen asleep, be came very restless ; she lighted a bit of candle, to ascertain the cause. Oh horrors ! the wild beasts were abroad ! The poor babe was in a sad condition, and on going to her husband s bedside, she saw a long, black procession, slowly moving from his arm, across his breast, and up the sides of his face. 260 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " "Wake up ! wake up, George, or there will be nothing of you or the boy left by morning." "Well, this is a little more than ever I can en dure. If Charley can stand, only on three legs, I will not wait for daylight. I think we can t be more uncomfortable should we land in a mud-hole between here and Anderson s (the next tavern). So make yourself and that little martyr as comfort able as you can, while I go and take counsel of the horse. In a very short time Mary heard Charley s step at the door, and needed no urging to hasten out. The poor landlord was with Mr. Herbert. "I am very sorry you found such uncomfortable quar ters ; but, indeed, what can a poor man do ?" said he, sighing. It was sad, and they really wished, for his sake, they could have endured till morning. But, saying a few kind, comforting words to him, they rode away. It was about three in the morning when they started, and for the first two hours they were obliged to move with great caution, both for want of light, and also because Charley was in no mood for fast labor. But as daylight slowly dawned DON T JUDGE BY APPEARANCES. 263 around them, and their path became less ob scure, even the horse, gathering courage, stepped briskly forward, and it was not long before they reached the next " bit of clearing." The " house " was but a one-story log cabin, and Mary thought the prospects not much brighter than before, judg ing from the exterior. "Don t judge by appearances, my dear. The two-story house that excited your admiration when we first came in sight of it, did not serve us any too well ; but I suspect, from what I have been told, that this will prove quite a godsend." A surprise awaited them at the very door. On each side of the clean, wooden steps, was a little bed of marigolds, pansies, and pinks. Morning- glories and creepers shaded the windows, and a climbing rose formed a beautiful ornament for the rough log " stoop." This simple evidence of a love for flowers won Mr. Herbert s heart. " I know that we shall find something to eat that will be at least clean at this house," he said, " for no one that loves flowers can be a slattern." The stout, tidy, motherly Dutch woman, who met them as they entered, smiled kindly when 262 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. she heard the remark, and stepping to an adjoin ing shed, she requested her husband to aid her in hastening the breakfast for their weary guests. As she returned to the pleasant room, she said: " John and I don t keep c help, we love so much better to work together. He ll see to your horse presently, if you will be so good as to hitch him, till he has brought me some wood and water." And truly it was a pleasant sight for our friends, to watch the loving old couple as they passed and repassed each other, and always with a smile, or pleasant word. " What do you think my wife has been saying, my good dame ?" said Mr. Herbert in his sportive way, while she was arranging the table. " She is wondering if we shall be as happy and fond of each other, as you and your husband seem to be, when we are as old. I tell her it will depend upon herself. If she is as gentle and good-natured as you are, I can t well fail of making a good hus band. Is is not so ?" " Oh, no ; I cannot agree with you, sir. If it had all depended on me, we should have been a very unhappy couple now, I dare say. I was very affectionate naturally, but irritable; and in the GOD BLESS HIM. 263 early part of our life, while my children were com ing up around us, I had a great deal of hard work, and much pain and ill health, which did not make me gentle. But John always said, so long as he hadn t the pain and weakness to bear, no matter how hard he worked, he ought to be patient and kind with me, and I have never had a hard word from him yet, God bless him, though I m shamed to say, I ve given him a good many. He s always been ready to excuse my short-comings, and some of the time they have not been easy to bear, I* assure you. I used to grieve over it, and think he d get tired out with me, and not always be able to realize that it was labor and pain, and not my heart that made me ugly, and sometimes I longed to die. But he bore on, and now he has his reward, for a happier couple never did live, I know. My health, as my children grew up, im proved, and I don t see now, but I am as good- natured as other people. " !Nb, no, you must allow me to differ from you, sir. I think my John is right. Men can have no idea of what a woman s feebleness and sufferings may be the hundred weary days and nights of irritating pains, which take the courage and gentle- 264: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ness all out of one; and unless they are certain they could be more patient under the rod than their poor wives, they d better in early married life be loving and gentle, and then they ll be sure of a peaceful old age. If John had judged me harshly then, I should have been ruined body and soul, and he would be wretched now. "Well, now I ve talked till I have kept your breakfast back; but I never know when to stop when I begin to speak of John." " I m sure I am very much obliged to you," said Mary, smiling, " and my husband looks as if he could not gainsay your remarks." A broiled chicken and some hot venison steaks, were now smoking on the table, and added to these, some fine fresh tomatoes, potatoes, white as snow balls, sweet bread, yellow butter, a dish of berries, with a pitcher of rich milk beside them ; and, Mr. Herbert said, the best coffee he had ever tasted in a public-house ! The kind old man begged the privilege of holding the baby, while his wife waited on their guests. " And surely," said Mary, " food never did taste half so good before. It is worth one s while A GENUINE LOVE MATCH. 265 to fast for a few hours, for the sake of such an appetite." "While partaking of their carefully prepared breakfast, they enjoyed a good deal of pleasant con versation with their host and his wife, and learned much of their earlier life, which interested them exceedingly, and the old couple appeared also much pleased with their society. They belonged, it seemed, to a good family in Germany, and had received advantages far above what their present position would indicate. It was a genuine love-match, with the usual amount of opposition, and producing the usual results. That is, it confirmed their love, and strengthened their determination to be united, at all hazards. They were married, and to escape strife and bitter words from his friends, who had wished him to choose a bride from a higher station, they left home and native land, and with a scanty pittance came to the new world, where, by hard labor and close calculation, they worked their way up to a pleasant competence, educated six sons and daughters, had seen them all well settled in life, and were now peacefully, hand in hand, going down into the vale together, their youthful love brightened 12 266 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. and strengthened by toiling and suffering with, and for each other. They could, if they had chosen, have built them selves a handsome home but with the romance which is generally supposed to be the exclusive property of youth the neat log cabin which their own hands had helped to build beautified with the vines which, for years, they had together taught to twine about it, the thrifty shrubs and trees, each planted to mark the birth of a loved child, or com memorate some joy or sorrow shared together and all the little conveniences which thoughtful affection had invented, or supplied, were dearer to tltose old lovers than the most splendid edifice in the land. Our travellers had become deeply interested in the narrative which the old people had given, aad felt reluctant to leave; and the interest seemed equally shared by their new friends, who urged them to spend the day, and rest. But George was to preach for his brother that evening, and it was full time they were on their way. Their horse had been well cared for, and appa rently entirely recovered, the guests most happily A GENEROUS COUPLE. 267 refreshed, and with many kind words and hearty thanks (for these good people would take no other remuneration, when they learned that Mr. Herbert was a clergyman), they bade them farewell, and were once more on their way. CHAPTEE XYL THE VISIT AND KETUKN. THEY found tlieir brother and his wife in a commodious house, delightfully located, and sur rounded with all the comforts and luxuries of wealth. Sister Kate had lost her first child a beautiful girl, about the ago of little Susie but she had a baby George to show, a fine little fellow of two years. The first evening, they returned from the church at an early hour, being greatly fatigued ; but when seated once more with those dear ones, there was so much to enjoy, so many things to recall and talk over, that they forgot entirely the last restless night, and were in danger of being sleepless from pleasure, as they had then been from discomfort. " Do you remember that visit to Oakley, Sister Mary, when you came to arrange for your first 263 .AN EVENING CHAT. 269 attempt at housekeeping ? And, do you know, I thought you must be entirely ignorant of money matters, or household expenses, when you were so sure you could contrive a .comfortable home for this good brother with such materials as you were able to collect ? I felt sad when we parted from you that morning at the wharf; for I was so sure you would find your plans a failure." " Yery likely, I should, had it not been for the kindness of friends ; and if I had had also the benefit of my present experience, the prospect would have been a dark one, indeed. "We have seen harder times than those, however, when closer economy was necessary ; and yet, somehow, we have never been so closely hedged in, but there has been some way of escape provided, and often when our courage has been well-nigh exhausted ; and I pre sume, we shall continue to find it so." "Well," said Frank, "riches can never make a pleasanter home than those two rooms in Glenville, and we shall never spend happier weeks than we spent there, I m sure." " I often envy you," said Kate, " the pleasure of being compelled to manage and contrive all possible ways to get along. Still more, the ability to do so, 270 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. , and yet keep a bright home for your husband, under every discouragement. I wonder if I could do it. I think I should like to try." " It does very well to dream over and long for, when seated as we are now, with everything com fortable and elegant about us," said George ; " but my poor wife s faded roses, and the silver in her curls, after only six years of such contrivance, show you that there is something more serious than romance about it." " True, and these late hours won t recall the roses." " Ah ! now. Let me tell you," replied Mary, " tis not short pay or hard work that have blanched my cheeks or silvered my hair, but those abominable chills you force upon the stranger within your gates in this western world. I m cer tain I could work as hard as I have done, and cal culate as closely, and contrive as ingeniously, and yet be quite a young lady, when fifty years old, if our field of labor was in a more healthy location. It is this shaking business that destroys the wives and mothers." An exceedingly happy week passed by. The labors and preaching of the two clergymen were HOMEWAKD. 271 greatly blessed to the people, and endeared the brothers and sisters, still more closely, to each other. After their return from the nightly meet ings, they would sit conversing till the small hours, feeling that the pleasure of such intercourse was worth more to them than sleep. But, pleasantly as passed the hours, the mother, at the end of two weeks, began to long for her children. She well knew that Susie s loving heart was counting the hours passed away from her parents, and little prattling Frank would long for his father s good-night frolic, and his mother to prepare him for his crib ; and so, with the promise of an early visit from their brother and sister, they separated. In returning, they took another and more pleas ant route home, and found very comfortable accommodations on the way, but none that had the charm for them of that one-story log tavern, with its simple-hearted, loving occupants. "When they reached home, little quiet Susie sprang into their arms, and wept and sobbed till her parents were alarmed for the effects of such nervous excitement; while Master Frank jumped and laughed in true boy s style, and wondered 272 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. why sister cried when pa and ma came home. Cousin Helen, also, was quite willing to resign her honors, saying she found it much easier to be taught, than to practise what she had learned. Mr. Francis called in the evening, and received the hearty thanks of both Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, for the pleasure of their journey; the latter saying she felt almost as strong as before her illness, and sure that nothing but her release from care, and the delightful visit to their friends, could have done her half so much good. " Then, I presume," said Mr. Francis, with a smile, "you will no longer need Helen, and are quite prepared to commit her to my keeping ?" " That s wicked and unkind ! to use our thanks for your generosity as weapons against us. I think it no more than fair, after that, to keep her another year. It will seem too much like a ~bargain> now, sir. My wife s journey for our cousin Nellie. I wouldn t have a word to say to such a mercenary man, Nellie !" " Ah 1 I am beforehand with you. I have her pro mise, that if Mrs. Herbert returned quite recruited, she would not refuse to take charge of me very soon. You need not have expended such an amount of AN ODD GENIUS. 273 gratitude for the trifling service I rendered you. Don t you see, it was all. sheer selfishness ?" " No such thing," said Mary ; " you can never make us believe your slanders on yourself, Mr. Francis. It is just like you, to try and make people imagine you worse than you really are." " You think that s bad enough, without any effort to increase the dark shades. Do you not ?" " You are an odd genius, Francis. I ve known you take more pains to impress people with the idea that you are mean and selfish, than most persons would to secure the reputation of saint ship. But you can t fool my wife or me. I under stand you well. If I had not, you should never have secured a claim on our blushing cousin here. ~N~ellie, you have your life s work before you, to keep this man in anything like order." " To be sure she has ; and, therefore, the sooner she begins, the more perfectly will her work be accomplished." "You have the advantage of us again, and therefore we shall be obliged to leave Nellie to settle the question in accordance with her own judgment." It was decided that the wedding should take 12* 274 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. place at the end of the month. Mr. Francis had built and furnished a pleasant house, within a few steps of the parsonage, and Helen would hardly feel that they were not still one family. Some weeks after the wedding, Mrs. Herbert told her husband that there seemed no way of getting through the year, but by taking boarders again ; unless he thought it right to make a plain statement of their case to their principal men, and leave it with them to decide which was most for their interest, to pay at least the amount promised, or relinquish him to some church who would con sider him worthy of a comfortable support. There were, already, she added, three hundred dollars due from their last year s salary, of which they had not been able to collect a penny, beside that which was unpaid on the present year. " Just about as much due at the end of the year, as we gained by that donation party. How it would have grieved our dear Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Tompkins, had they lived to see that their loving efforts, instead of shaming our business men into a more honorable course, has acted as an opiate to their consciences, and we have been more sorely pinched than ever before/ WHAT SHALL WE DO? 275 " Well, dear, what shall we do ? "We have trusted their promises long enough lived on the hope of better times J till we can live so no longer. Our garden and cow are indeed great helps to us, as far as food is concerned ; but the general ward robe needs replenishing sadly, and additions to yours cannot be any longer deferred. I have mended your coat and vest, till it will hardly hold the stitches, and breaks out by each day s wear, so that I am compelled to sit up and mend at night, after you retire. Last Sabbath, you know (after I had mended Saturday night as near to twelve as I dared), you burst out the sleeves, just writing your sermon, and I was obliged to take my needle and mend till the last bell rang. I had a great mind to send you to preach without a coat." " I think it might have been a good plan," said her husband, smiling. " I would have said, on entering the pulpit, < The brethren and sisters must excuse my unclerical appearance, but my only coat would not hold fast its integrity until after preaching, and my wife s conscience will not allow her to mend it on the Sabbath. My people will not pay me for my labor, and I cannot, there fore, buy a new one. Don t you believe such a 276 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. speech would rouse them to a sense of their short comings ?" " Doubtful. I told Brother Hudson (who boarded with us, you know, when we first came here) about my being obliged to mend your coat, before you could go to church, a few weeks since, and would you believe it, he was fired with righte ous indignation at my presumption in thus dese crating the Sabbath. " c "Why, said I, c you would not have your pas tor preach with a coat-sleeve hanging only by a seam, would you ? " Couldn t he put on his second-best coat, just for once, rather than have you sewing on the holy Sabbath? " Certainly, sir, if he had a second-best, a con venience (or luxury perhaps you would call it), which he has not been able to afford for years. 3: "That was rather a poser, was it not?" u Only for a moment, for he soon replied : " "Well, I must say, Mrs. Herbert, if you would economize more closely (! !) you might manage to keep our minister more respectably clad. " c As for instance said I. < Well well, Oh, many things. ADVICE AND CENSUKE. 277 " Too vague altogether, Mr. Hudson. You must particularize if you wish me to profit by your remarks. " Well, your table. I remember I used to think, when in your family, that you lived far more expensively than was necessary pies or puddings every day, etc. a t "\yhy didn t you suggest this while with us f If my memory does not fail me, you seldom objected to my replenishing your plate the second time, and of course I took that as a sign of your approval. "Just then he remembered a business engage ment, and was obliged to leave suddenly. I expect you will lecture me for speaking so plainly, but how could I help it?" "E"ot very easily, my dear; and you may be sure I shall not trouble you with a lecture. I imagine he only got his deserts. " But what to do about our affairs I don t know. I have little hope that they will improve while we stay here. Our people, I think, feel that, should it come to the trial, we could not find it in our hearts to leave them ; and, as we have managed to keep along thus far, they think we always can. I can t en 278 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. dure the thought of leaving, but I fear it must come to that." " It seems so unaccountable that a church should ever be inclined to grudge a minister a tolerable support. Their health or pockets would suffer if the lawyer or physician were treated as carelessly, but their free and easy habits have not taught them to place any great value on the services of one who labors for their souls well being." " I would go to Mr. Francis for advice, but that would be just the same as asking him to put his hand into his purse and give me a bank bill." " Oh, no ; it will not do to go to him. But why not have a long, plain talk with Father Tompkins 2" "Is it possible I did not tell you that he was struck with paralysis last night, and is helpless and speechless to-day? How could I be so forgetful !" " Dear old man ! The cords that bind us here are dropping asunder, one by one. Perhaps it is the only way to decide us to leave. But the sweetness of their memory will ever make the place dear. "We had better lay aside our own affairs, and go over and see if we can be of any service to him, or his family." Mr. Tompkins lived only a few days, uncon DEATH OF ME. TOMPKINS. 279 Bcious all the time, and then passed from earth to join his companion in heaven. He had been steadily failing from the day of her death, but never was a man better prepared for a change of worlds. He had long before put his house in order, and lived as if he felt each day might be his last. The two eldest daughters had married since their mother s death. The sons had commenced busi ness in a neighboring town, and now the youngest daughter went to find a home with her sisters, and our friends connection with this family was entirely broken up. But now the pastor s private affairs would no longer admit of delay. The crisis had come, but how to meet it in the kindest spirit, and with the requisite firmness, was the question. Mr. Jackson, since his wife s death, had been considerably disturbed, and embarrassed in his own business matters, and it was thought doubtful if his mind could be brought to look into the sub ject under consideration, so clearly, as to make it advisable for him to attempt any change, for them, either by private conversation, or .a more formal presentation of their case to the people. Mr. Her- 280 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. bert, therefore, decided to assume the respon sibility of calling his principal business men to gether, and plainly show them the true state of his finances, and insist upon a reformation, or dis missal from his charge. But just before the even ing appointed for this painful task, he received a letter from Mobile, inviting him to take charge of a church in that city, and offering him a very liberal salary, beside paying his debts (if he had any) and defraying the expenses of removing his family to the place. " This is bringing matters to a crisis, suddenly," said he, after reading the letter. " Why, George, you haven t decided to go ?" "No, indeed. I shall say nothing of it, till I have carefully thought over the whole ground, on both sides. My present feeling, however, is, that it will be best to lay this letter before our people, as a l>ody^ and if they really wish me to remain, tell them a prompt and decent support are the only conditions on which I can stay. If they rouse up and act effectively, I think I can do more good here than in Mobile. But if, as I have of late more than once thought, they have withheld our support, hoping I should ask a dismission, the A PLAIN STATEMENT. 281 way they receive this letter will settle the doubt beyond a question." " Why, my dear husband, you can t be serious in supposing there is any dissatisfaction with you. The idea never entered my mind." " JSTo, my dear, I suppose not ; because it is a wife s mind, and no such ideas could possibly creep in there. I did not suppose you were dissatisfied, love. But others may not see with your eyes, or appreciate your husband s efforts quite as highly as you do. However, a few days will settle the question. We will not speak of it again, for the present." At the close of the week, Mr. Herbert told his wife that he had decided to inform his people, on the next Sabbath, of the call, and appoint a gene ral meeting, for the Tuesday following, to take the question into careful consideration. The eventful Tuesday brought a very full at tendance, and the reading of the call produced great excitement. Few could realize that such an offer could be declined. But immediately after the communication, Mr. Herbert said he wished, be fore any action was taken upon it, to make a frank, and very plain statement. 282 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. He then calmly reviewed the last seven years, distinctly stating how very severely they had been straitened, how seriously his wife s health had been injured, by her efforts to supply their defi ciencies, and concluded by informing them that the feeling had for some time been growing upon him, that nothing but a reluctance on their part to support him, and a desire for his removal, could have induced them to compel him, so long, to con tend with difficulties which they could have so easily removed. He would, therefore, now with draw, and leave them unembarrassed by his pre sence, to settle in their own minds, what answer they would wish returned to the people of Mobile. The next morning, a committee called at the parsonage, bearing the results of their delibera tions. They had examined into their accounts, and were surprised and ashamed to find themselves largely in their pastor s debt. The deficiency had been collected on the spot, and a vote taken to raise the salary two hundred dollars, and a com mittee appointed to see that it was paid promptly every quarter. " The vote was unanimous," said the committee. ECCENTRICITY. 283 save one dissenting voice, and that you will be surprised to learn was your cousin s husband, Mr. Francis." " Some of his eccentricity, I presume. But what reason did he give ?" " c Oh, it costs a good deal to keep a man like Mr. Herbert, and he guessed we d better hunt up a cheaper preacher. We could not persuade him to pay a cent toward making up the arrears. That s a specimen of his pretended friendship for you, I suppose." " Oh, I ll risk Francis friendship. It will all be explained to my entire satisfaction, and his com plete vindication from anything more than oddity, I am confident." " Well, we hope you ll give us the benefit of his reasons, when you find them." " Yery likely the only way I shall ever get at them, will be by a promise to leave you all as much in the dark as you now are." "It is strange no matter what he does, you appear to think Francis always right." " !N"ot exactly right, for I don t believe in cheat ing people into forming false estimates of any one. But he is a right noble, generous fellow, with all 284: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. his faults, as we have tested in more ways than we can speak of." " Well, let that pass. "Will you now dismiss this call, Mr. Herbert, that has given us all such a start ?" " Certainly, if the start produces permanent effects. I am greatly attached to this people, and beside, honestly think I can do more good here than in a new place, if you perform your duty by a strict observance of the promises voluntarily made. But I warn you fairly, I will never be brought to this strait again, and remain with you. I can t afford to be constantly bickering with my people about money matters, nor can I see my wife go down to a premature grave from needlessly hard work." That same evening, Mr. Francis and Nellie came in for a social chat. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert had resolved to make no allusion either to the call or the decision of the people. It was evident he was all impatience to open the matter, and learn their opinion of his procedure. The evening was far spent, and no mention had been made of the call, or anything connected with it ; but as they rose to leave, Mr. Francis said : CLEAR GAIN. 285 " I suppose you are angry that I advised your accepting that call." " Oh, no, not at all angry. But let s have your reasons for wishing me to leave, and I ll promise to go to-morrow, if you really think I ought." " Well, if I choose, I could give most excellent reasons, and if I did, would surely hold you to your promise, to go immediately. But then I m timid) and dislike to talk contrary to the public voice. They might mob me, or burn my store if I did." He then handed Mr. Herbert a check for fifty dollars, saying, " I wouldn t give you a cent, only Helen quarrelled with me so for not subscribing at the meeting, that, for peace sake, I came this even ing to give you this." " It is not true, Cousin George, indeed it is not ! He said he wouldn t give at the meeting, because they had been so mean in allowing your salary to remain so long unpaid, and as he has always paid prompt himself, was not going to help them out of a ditch of their own digging. Beside, he said, now they were frightened, they would have no trouble in raising it without his help, and this which he has handed would be clear gain." 286 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. " Do just talk to him, cousin, and tell Mm it is wicked to try to make people think so wrongly of him." " Tell her it is wicked to betray her husband s confidence in this way." And they said good night with happy hearts leaving happy ones behind them. " Oh, tis such a relief," said Mary, when alone with her husband, " to know that we shall not be obliged to leave! They have done better than I expected, in paying up all arrearages, and it will enable us to start free from debts once more. But do you feel confident they will keep these promises better than their first ?" " Yery doubtful. But c sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. "We will trust them till they compel us to doubt, and then, they have been fully warned, and can blame no one but them selves, if the consequences of their folly prove disagreeable." CHAPTER XYIL THE TEUE SPHERE OF WOMAN. MKS. HERBERT had not thought it advisable to increase her labors by receiving any boarders, as the promised addition to their income, and the payment of that which had so long been due, would, she hoped, cancel all their bills, and enable them to pass the year, upon which they were no W entering, less anxiously than heretofore. Indeed, without any servant, the regular work of her own house, the care of her three little ones, and all the family sewing, unaided by a " Wheeler & Wilson," or a " Grover & Baker," and a large amount of com pany, would appear to most of our readers quite as much as one pair of hands could be expected to perform. But to Mrs. Herbert this was luxury compared to some of the past years, for though few meals, if any, passed without a guest at theii table, this seldom interfered with the enjoyment ot 287 288 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. their evenings. These, with the exception of the regular weekly meetings, were always spent to gether, and there would be an hour or two, even after the meeting, when, her children quietly sleeping near, and her husband, with book or pen at the same table where she sat busy with her needle, eager to listen to any chance remark, or a sentence from his writing, she thought that no one could ever have been so happy as herself. Their garden, also, was a great source of health ful enjoyment, as well as a very necessary part of their support. Mary was an early riser, and her husband had long since confessed that he could never have ac complished so much but for this habit. Their breakfast was over, and the morning s work all finished before their neighbors were stirring, and then, if Mr. Herbert had no early engagement, they took the little ones to the garden, which was some distance from the house. Spreading an old rug or blanket on the grass, little Susie was left to care for Frank and Harry, while their parents were at work ; Mr. II. taking the rougher part, left the transplanting and " clearing up " to his wife. These were the bright, happy hours, TIIE GAEDEN. 289 compensating for the pain and toil of many dark ones. Their garden was an uncommonly fine one, yield ing an abundant supply of choice things, aside from what they gained by sending a large quantity of vegetables into market. They could boast of the largest lettuce, the finest peas, the earliest com and melons, and of the best and choicest variety. Then the pears, peaches, and cherries could any be found that tasted half so sweet or juicy as theirs ? No market ever furnishes vegetables and fruits so palatable as those which our own hands have planted and gathered. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert well understood this, and often when wearied with care, or harassed and vexed by some sad develop ment of human nature in those around them, they would say, that one hour s work together, in this pleasant spot, could dispel the clouds, and enable them to judge more charitably, or endure more patiently, the faults of others, besides making it tar easier to correct their own. Their little patch of ground abounded in valu able fruit-trees, most of which had been set out after weekly evening meetings, often late in the 13 290 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. night, Mary holding the lantern and steadying the tree, while her husband placed the earth about it. Happy hours ! Toil and poverty could not take them from them, or, should brighter days dawn in after time, and under more prosperous circum stances, will not their hearts turn from affluence and the highest refinements of life, with intense longings for the simple joys shared together, and enriched by pleasant and affectionate converse ! Mr. Herbert s great pride was in his flower gar den, and indeed it was shared by half the place, "When he first settled in Norton, ornamental gar dening was hardly known, except in very rare cases. The good people w r ould have thought it very ridiculous to have been found busy over a fiawer- bed. It was too childish, and besides, "What s the use? "What good will they do?" " What good ! why, they make you happier and better every time you look at them. Try it a year, and you will never ask that question again." And their minister determined that they should cultivate a taste for the bright and beautiful flowers. O He began their course of education, by being almost always seen with a rose or rare flower in LOVE FOE FLOWEKS. his hand, -which he gave, in the course of his walks and calls, to such as appeared most likely to appre ciate. It was given by " our minister" and that was, at first, its chief value. But flowers cannot be brought before any one constantly, without their learning to love them for themselves, as well as for the giver. Sometimes, Mr. Herbert would put a choice rose in a pot and take it to an invalid, telling them to watch its growth and minister to its necessities, and it would take from a sick room half its tediousness. Occasionally, during a call, he would speak of some beautiful plant that he had found in full bloom in his yard, that morning ; and when, by his happy way of describing, he had gained the attention of the family, and created an interest, would point to a place in their own garden w r here the plant or shrub would look finely ; and add, if it would be gratifying, he should be happy to transplant it there himself. In this way, a floral interest had been gradually developed among the people, and at the time I write, few small cities could be found, where orna mental shrubs and trees were so abundant, or selected with greater taste. 292 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. "Time rolls its ceaseless course." Eight years have ploughed some deep furrows in the smooth brows, and sprinkled many a thread of silver in the brown locks, of our friends. On Mrs. Herbert life s burdens had left deeper traces than on her husband. She had not his healthful elasticity of spirit and natural mirthfulness, or hopeful way of looking upon life. She did not see the "silver lining" which was always visible, to his eyes, u through every cloud." An unusual amount of sickness and severe suffering had fallen to her lot ; and added to that, a degree of physical labor far beyond her strength, and from which it was impos sible for her husband to shield her, without a con stant neglect of most important duties. There had been many hours, as she felt strength and capacity for exertion diminishing, when her youthful aspi rations were brought vividly back to her mind ; and the old longing for high intellectual attain ments returned with giant strength. Then, con trasting her present life with her girlhood s plans and resolutions, her heart shrank back from the homely reality. To spend a lifetime in this weari some, unchanging routine caring only for bodily wants to cook to wash and mend was that all 293 woman was born for? Was a wife who could do only that, a meet companion for the husband in whom she gloried ? Would the fullness of her love, poured out so lavishly upon him, satisfy the wants and necessities of a mind like his ? In her earlier married life, these periods of despondency had been a sad drawback to her happiness, though carefully hidden in her own heart ; but they had yearly diminished, as her husband s unvarying gen tleness and loving care taught her daily more and more confidence in her ability to make his home all-sufficient for his wishes. She was learning to place a higher estimate on purely domestic qualifi cations to feel that a woman s proper ambition should be, the endeavor to relieve her husband, especially if a professional man, from those home- cares which are incompatible with high mental effort that he may turn, when wearied and per plexed with parochial or public duties, to his own hearth as a resting-place the sweetest earthly refuge for care and trouble. I am aware that the strong minded females of this progressive age will be ex ceedingly disgusted with such a sentiment ; neve - theless, to a true woman, it is the sweetest, noblest mission that life can offer. It is, I am persuaded 294: FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. just wliat God meant woman to do. He has left the bolder, more exposed, and demonstrative paths in life for man, and bestowed on woman the privilege of shining with a softer light, sheltered and guarded by manly love, in ajiome made heavenlike by her graceful care and gentle influences. The woman, so happily endowed as instinctively to fill out the picture which rises before my mind, but which my pen so feebly portrays, need feel no envy at any public distinction or applause secured by some of the more ambitious but less favored of her sex. Mrs. Herbert had succeeded better than the generality of wives in satisfying her husband, that his home was one of the best resting-places in the world, and now that her health was so rapidly fail- Ing, her chief sorrow arose from the fear that it would become so hopelessly impaired as to disable her from making this place any longer desir able ; and the old longing for a higher state of mental culture, that she might still continue to be in some degree a meet companion for him, dis tressed her exceedingly. There were also other sources of anxiety that could no longer be concealed. Two years had passed since the good people of Norton had been DARKER CLOUDS. 295 frightened into thoughtfulness by the call from Mobile, spoken of in the last chapter. For some months all went smoothly, bat then their affairs began gradually to fall back into their old channel. Before one year was passed, they were again in debt to their pastor, but promising to bring all right the next quarter. The second year was now nearly ended, and their prospects were grow ing darker every month. The conviction was confirmed, that they must soon bring their minds to leave. This was of itself a painful thought, but darker clouds were gathering around them. Mary was often cheered by pleasant messages from Hill Farm. Her father and mother, after a life of toil, were enjoying a happy and peaceful old age. The doctor s character became mellow and refined by advancing years, and his invaluable wife was reaping the fruits of her patience and gentleness in his ready acknowledgment of the aid she had been to him, and high estimate of her worth. Her children, scattered all over the land, rose up and called her blessed. Few had more oi life s sweet ties and bright promises to make this world desirable, and yet very few lived more con- 296 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. stantly prepared to resign lier choicest treasures at her Father s call. One morning, after an absence of a few hours, as Mr. Herbert entered his door, he was exceed ingly alarmed by his wife s appearance. She sat by the window, with an open letter in her hand, and as he entered, a ghastly smile quivered on hei lip. He hastened to her aid, and passing his arm fondly around her, bent over her and read one line. It was enough. " My poor wife !" He pressed a fervent kiss upon her brow, and as he gathered her trembling form in his sheltering arms, her tears flowed freely, and the bewildered brain found relief. Dr. Leighton was dead! He had passed from his wife s presence with a playful word, and a smile on his lip, and was brought back to her, but a moment after, a corpse. The intelligence had been abruptly communi cated to his daughter at a time when she was least able to bear it, and that night she gave birth to a puny little girl, and was herself for many days in great danger. It was the first death that had occurred in her father s family the first broken link in the chain that had been growing brighter for forty years. LIFE UNCERTAIN. 297 "Who \vas to be tlie next ? It made life and all its ties very uncertain, more so than any trial of her past life. It was many weeks before she could in any degree rise above the stunning effects of the shock. Her health continued very frail, and her babe did not thrive as her children had usually done. Some rest from home cares appeared abso lutely necessary. In this emergency, Mr. Francis and her cousin again came to the rescue. Mr. Herbert was obliged to cross the prairies to attend some convention, which journey he had designed to take on horseback, as the least expensive mode of conveyance. But Helen s whole-hearted husband offered them a car riage, and again handed Mrs. Herbert the money, for all needful expenditures for themselves and children ; their church meanwhile looked on, and saw these arrangements to prolong her existence effected by charity, while they were in her hus band s debt nearly four hundred dollars of the last two years salary. But Mr. and Mrs. Herbert knew it was no fault of their own, that they were placed in circumstances which made it absolutely necessary that they should accept this gratuitous assistance, and therefore did not allow pride to prevent 13* 298 FBOM DAWK TO DAYLIGHT. their receiving it as gratefully, as it was freely offered. This journey was a new era in their life s history a glorious spot of sunshine, following a dark and gloomy storm. Prairie travelling was a novelty to both. Broad plains, eighteen and twenty miles in extent, without a tree, shrub, fence, or building. Even the road, traceable often only by an occa sional deep " slew hole," where some unfortunate teamster or traveller had been "stalled" and broken up the earth around in his efforts to extri cate himself and team from his uncomfortable position. Passing those way-marks, they would ride miles, guided by the sun, through nature s flower-gardens, regularly laid out in broad strips, or patches, with colors tastefully blended, harmon ized, or contrasted. Acres of wild roses, in full bloom, joined by equally extensive fields of purple, red, or crimson zenias ; then the large, white ox- eye, the golden buttercup or coryopsis, and the deeper purple, almost black iron-weed the only dividing line between being the change in color, as one species of flower abruptly displaced the Dther. The scene was varied occasionally by a flight of birds, or a troop of deer, startled by theii PKAIRIE TRAVELLING. 299 approach, bounded swiftly across their track, and were soon lost to sight in the tall grass beyond. Silence reigned all about then, broken only by their own voices, or the slight sound of their horses feet, on the soft, green sward. The monotony of prairie travelling soon be comes almost painful, and our travellers learned to hail the strips of woodland, or clearings, as they are called, which occurred every fifteen or twenty miles, with the pleasure one meets an old friend, after a sojourn among strangers. These clearings, the only inhabited spots they passed for two days, consisted of a tavern, store, and sometimes a post-office combined, a rude church, and two or three log-houses ; and here, where they stopped to rest and refresh themselves and horses, the accommodations closely resembled those described in another chapter. But every moment was too full of happiness and pleasure to be disturbed by any trifling discomforts ; besides, experience had taught them many contrivances for overcoming the inconveniences and annoyances of western travelling. Their children were all with them, and nothing left at home to cause anxiety. Two weeks flew by, full of unmixed enjoyment, and, refreshed in 300 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. body and mind, and with spirits more elastic than they had been since Dr. Leighton s death, they turned their faces homeward, cheerful and happy. But before they had alighted from the carriage, they were met on the very threshold of home with tidings of the most afflicting nature. Their be loved brother Frank, surrounded by all that makes life desirable, free from many of the cares and trials which had fallen to his brother s lot, with a wide field of labor spread out before him, and a heart zealously devoted to his work, had, thus early in life, fought the fight, finished the work allotted him, and gone home to his God and Saviour, leaving a desolate home, a mourning people, and a host of aching hearts but the most entire confi dence that their loss was his infinite gain. Oh ! nobly had his work been done ! and now he rests from his labors. Blessed spirit ! Little as their respective fields had allowed them to be together, to Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, their brother s death was one of the most severe afflic tions that had ever befallen them a loss that, even if they linger till old age, will never be for gotten a vacant place in the heart s treasure house which can never be refilled. CHAPTEE XYIH. DEATH OF LITTLE HARRY. ABOUT this period, a brother, next younger than Mrs. Herbert, came to reside in Norton, bringing with him a wife and two little boys, whom she had never seen. He had, for some years, been settled in one of the southern cities, and had married there. ~N~o event could have given our friends greater pleasure or comfort at this time, while their hearts were so saddened by the death of Mr. Herbert s brother. Young Dr. Leighton had been almost as a twin- brother to Mary, during her girlhood, and was especially dear to her husband. He was the recipient of all her youthful trials, and enjoy ments the trusty friend and sympathizing adviser, during the troubled period of her long and event ful engagement, and though he had left home and entered into business before her marriage, they had always corresponded regularly ; but since her 801 302 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. wedding-day had met but once. For some weeks they were all one family, and when his business arrangements for a permanent residence in the place, were completed, they were still almost within speaking distance. The two families, to gether with their cousins, formed a delightful little circle, and the interchange of visits recalled the pleasant days they had so sadly missed, since the death of Mrs. Tompkins, and Mrs. Jackson. In her brother s wife, she found just the companion her heart coveted. Good, sound sense, an excel lently cultivated mind, and withal very affectionate and gentle-hearted. "With such added ties to bind them to their people, who, though so regardless of their interest and comfort, were still truly beloved, the prospect of being absolutely compelled to abandon the field, by their neglect and carelessness, was more than ever distressing, and they were encouraged by Mr. Francis and Charles Leighton, to risk the accumu lation of debts, and make another year s trial ; the two gentlemen taking good care the church should understand that it was through their advice, and not from forgetfulness on their pastor s part, of the failure of all their promises, as a people. THE LITTLE FOLKS. 303 This year, which was to settle the perpetually recurring question, of the possibility of their remaining longer in Norton, was speeding onward. Soothed and encouraged, under all circumstances, by the presence of their brother and his wife, and constant intercourse with Mr. Francis 1 family, these few months were, in many respects, among their happiest days in Norton. Little Susie was now almost eight, and her mother s ever-ready assistant; quiet and thought ful, but capable and practicable beyond her years. The rosy, little, five-year-old Frank, a bright and happy child, would gladly have contributed his mite of assistance in this industrious household ; but, unfortunately, his love of mischief was per petually overcoming his honest determination to make himself useful. Little Harry was past three ; a manly boy, and though merry-hearted and full of fun, he had less propensity for mischievous amusements, than his brother. As far as his distinguishing traits were developed, he manifested a closer resemblance to his father, than either of the children. The babe had outgrown the sickly tendencies of 301 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. the first few months, and was now a curly-headed, beautiful little damsel, nearly two years old. Their cousin s little one, of the same age, Charles Leighton s two sons, of seven and five, when united with the little circle in the weekly visits, inter changed between the three families, composed as beautiful a group as one could often meet. Few happier hearts could be found than the fond parents when watching the merry gambols and roguish pranks of their beloved children. But happiness, alas ! is a transient guest, and the peace and quiet of these bright clays were again disturbed by sickness and sorrow. Little Susie, for the first time, bowed her fair head before the fever her poor mother had always so greatly dreaded, and from which herself and husband had so often suffered. It had been a source of deep thankfulness that their children had, so far, escaped, and now, to see their patient little daughter shivering in the chills, or tossing restlessly, in the paroxysm of fever, was a trial beyond expression bitter. It is hard to witness sickness and suffering of any description, in old or young, especially when one feels powerless to relieve ; but there are few things KICKNKHS. . J05 BO painful to wit ne; s, :i,s a yoimi^ child cnduriny it,; first lesson in cliil! . There 18 !i :lr:m.";e myrfery, whieh the lillle sufferer recognizes; a vague fenr, which I have never leen numifi-sli-d Ly ;i child in ;iny oilier Die unn;il!ir;il ((,!(] tlljlf. CITC], , crc|,:, OV6JT lln-. l>" ly, ;uul I!M:II the, leri ihle power th;if, //;/// ,s-//^/vj tin; \vhoh; fr. iine, in Fpife of the most reroliife. efioris (o overcome ii, is h.-inl enough lor older ;ind slonlei- he;irls lo eoj.e. will) ; l*iii, ;i little child, with ils liny chilled finders, ils poor, ])Iue, pinched no:-e, ils anxioi I nrned, qua - lionii!;/;ly, IVoni one ;iffcnd:inl lo .-molli^r, will try a . nerVe* ^llile, >,-, ;-e\-c]-c|y iis inoi e . leill.C ;. -, or uhirniin^ illne,s cjiu do. Susie v,:i. taken suddenly one, evening, :md ;d ie,r a flleepleSfl Qlght, Lei niolher h;id the, : ;ili, f-ielion < ing the darllDg child nnk iulo :i (jniet ;-Iii?nl)-r ; both chill and fever Qfll d for the time. lin^nirhin^ Lcr lump Bl morning d;iwned ? and k r ivin^ 01|( "ore, ;orrowf ul look ;it, the exhausted little, sleeper, Mr. Iferherf, li;i~lenf-(| lo relieve her hn:-h:ind, who h;id ri en, li;dited the fire, and \vas now drexsin^, and trying to hii:h the two bright and merry boys. 306 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Breakfast was over, the morning prayers had been offered, and as the children rose from their knees to receive the kiss always claimed at this time, Frank laid his head on his father s breast, saying, " I feel so sick, papa !" The blue lips, cold fingers and purple nails, told the nature of his illness, and he was immediately laid by his sister, a captive to the same stern tyrant. Judge how forlorn must have been the prospect, when the brightest spot that even Mr. Herbert, with his hopeful spirit, could see, was, "Well, my dear, it is a mercy that our poor little ones chills will come on alternate days, and one will be comparatively comfortable while the other is shaking, and thus lighten, somewhat, your labor in nursing." And this was a comfort, the extent of which few of my readers can fully estimate, unless capable, by the power of imagination, of placing them in such cir cumstances as are here represented. ISTo servants, two children sick, and two younger to be watched and guarded if possible from the same sufferings, and all, for sick or well, to be done by one person, and, after the first week, without the important aid her husband most kindly rendered. For, just at this period, it was important that he should bo FATHER S EETTJKN. 307 absent for two weeks, at a public meeting, and as the children were not dangerously ill, apparently, he was reluctant to decline going. During his absence, Mrs. Herbert had every aid that her brother, Dr. Leighton, now fully estab lished in Norton, could give ; but both his wife and Mrs. Francis, who would have been invaluable assistants, were too ill themselves to assist ; on the contrary, they were sources of painful solicitude to Mrs. Herbert themselves. After a severe struggle, Susie and Frank began to convalesce, and when their father returned, had passed four days without a " chill," and could sit up a short time each day. Harry, and little baby Nellie, met their father with shouts of rejoicing, and the two invalids, though pale and feeble, joined their voices in the loving " welcome home, papa." The dinner, that day, was prepared and eaten more cheerfully than before for many weeks. After tea, Mr. Herbert complained of fatigue and slight illness, which he thought a good night s sleep would remove, retired early, and Mrs. Herbert, whose only rest during the children s illness had been gained in a chair by their bedside, told her husband she must remain 308 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. up a short time, to attend to some sewing, which sickness had accumulated, and would then try the luxury of retiring in a regular way. Just then, her brother came in to make his call for the night. He examined the little sleepers, said all were doing well, and, as he himself had had a " chill " that afternoon, he would go home, and unless there should be some change for the worse, should not call the next day till late. Just as he left, he turned back and stooping to kiss little Harry, his especial favorite, said : " Sister Mary, Harry seems feverish, does he not? His pulse is quick, and his cheek too red. It is very slight, however, and may be but the heat of the room, though I don t quite like his looks. Don t be uneasy, but try to rest to-night yourself. If he should, by and by, grow restless, give him this powder." Mrs. Herbert stood watching the child, for some moments after her brother departed ; but detecting no cause for alarm, sat down to her sew ing till near midnight, then excessive weariness compelled her to prepare for rest. "While at work, she had placed her chair where she could con stantly watch little Harry s slumbers, and they were so gentle and undisturbed as to relieve her FADING, STILL FADING. 309 entirely of anxiety. But as she drew liis little crib close to her bedside, she detected some strange change she knew not what, save that it made her own heart beat wildly. He was deadly pale, and the perspiration stood in great beads on his brow. As she raised him in her arms, he moaned, then throwing himself back, his limbs stiffened in a fearful convulsion. She called loudly for her husband, w r ho was instantly by her side. Dressing hastily, he ran at once for her brother. "When the two returned, the convulsion had passed, but the child lay uncon scious in his poor mother s arms. And so for eight long, sad days he lingered, fading, fading, still fading. The gently heaving breast alone gave token of life ; not a moan, or effort at motion, disturbed the fearful quiet of that little form! Can this be rosy, bright and active Harry ! He whom his mother had always held half unconsciously to herselfa little closer than the others, because he was papers miniature, and was going, some day, to be like him a good and noble man! and fill his father s place in the world, when he w r as old and past labor. How often, in his baby days, had she softly murmured all this in 310 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. those low tones with, which fond mothers are wont to lull their treasures to rest ! How often, as months sped by, carrying him from babyhood to boyhood when, mother-like, before retiring 1 , she gave a last look to each pretty sleeper had she pressed her lips to Harry s noble brow, and whispered, " Dear papa? s own ~boy !" Then feeling half guilty lest she had wronged the other dear ones, turned back to kiss them also. And when, fresh and rosy from the morning s bath, each happy, joyful birdling flew merrily to call the father from his garden-work, and Harry plead to be carried on his shoulder, " because he was papa s own little man," how had she smiled to think of the secret significance that expression had to her own heart ! The sun was spreading its morning s beauties over the earth a bright beam stole into that sad, darkened room, and rested on the face once so beautiful and rounded, now oh ! how sunken and ghastly ! Good old Charley, who for days had been sadly neglected, was just freed from the confinement of his stall, and trotted briskly up to the door for the morning greeting he had ever been accustomed to receive from the children QUICK, QUICK, JOHNNY. 311 Poor Charley! will you ever carry your little master so gently round the yard again, curbing your proud, fiery steps and yielding your great strength to the guidance of that tiny hand ? Oh, what a spasm wrung the poor mother s heart, when, with a low whinny of disappointment, the true-hearted steed paced slowly away, and she turned from the window to bend in agony over her boy ! Her youngest brother had but the day before arrived, and was standing by the crib. The child, for the first time since his illness, opened his eyes. " Mamma, papa !" She snatched him to her breast " Quick, quick ! Johnny, call George ! He will live ! our loy will live ! Brother Charles and Dr. Brown said, if we could only rouse him, all would be well. Quick, Johnny, quick /" There w^as no need, for the father heard that feeble voice, and already holds the boy close to his throbbing heart, while Johnny, seizing the halter, springs with one bound on Charley s back, without hat, saddle, or bridle. It needs but a word to put the noble beast to his full speed. His fleet footsteps but ring and echo on the little bridge, ere horse and rider are lost to sight, and in a few moments Dr. Leigh 312 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. ton and his partner were with them. Mr. Her bert still held the darling child ; one little, pale hand is pressed to his father s cheek; the other, as when in health, thrown lovingly round his neck ; while the mother, with tears of joy and hope bedewing her face, is kneeling at her hus band s side. " Oh, brother, he woke and knew us all and played a moment so sweetly with George s face ! but, poor little fellow, he is so weak that he soon grew tired and sleeps now." Her husband s eyes are fixed on her brother s, for there is a fear ful look upon his face, hardly consistent with such happiness as they were, but a moment before, feel ing ; and as Mary observed the expression, she trem blingly exclaims, "Why don t you speak, brother? You and Dr. Brown both said, if we could wake him to consciousness, he would get well." Twice her brother essayed to speak, but failed. Mr. Herbert placed the babe in his mother s arms ; the veins stood out like cords on his brow and his lips were deadly pale, as, laying a cold and clammy hand on Dr. L. s arm, he said : " Speak, dear brother ! Tell me all ! I can bear it. What do you fear ?" The doctor placed his arms about the poor father. NATURE S LAST EFFORT. 313 saying : " My dearest brother, this is nature s last effort our little noble Harry is dying" !N~o other word was spoken. The smile half fear, half hope with which Mrs. Herbert had greeted her brother, remained frozen on her lip, as she still held her precious child, while with burn ing brain, but tearless eyes, her husband seated himself beside her, in the vain effort to prepare for the coming struggle. Alas ! who was ever prepared for this? John Leighton had turned the panting steed loose into the yard, and at this moment, with radiant face, entered the room, to join in the congratula tions which he anticipated when he left, and stood for a moment spell-bound at the change he encoun tered then drew near to witness, for the first time, the approach of death. Scarce a movement or word broke the awful silence. There was no thing now to do but watch that cherished one, whose life was so quietly passing away, and as the sun, which, in his morning brightness, seemed to bring " healing in his beams," sank slowly down beneath the horizon, little Harry s last breath fanned his mother s death-like cheek, and his beautiful spirit returned to its home in heaven. 14 314 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. Nellie, the youngest, had been sent to her cou sin s, Mrs. Francis, and the invalid children (kept in another room with a careful friend), had been almost forgotten during the dark hours of this miserable day; but now the thought that they must be told of their brother s death, and the fear that the shock might harm them seriously, in their feeble condition, roused the afflicted parents from the stupor of grief. Little Susie heard the tidings, and looked on the dear one she had so often nursed, with deep, silent and most unchildlike sorrow ; but Frank, in uncon trollable anguish, threw himself on the floor be side his cold and lifeless playmate, exclaiming: " Oh ! mamma, mamma, I won t love God any more ! You said he was good, but it s no good to take our pet Harry away from us ; and I can t love him any more oh, never !" " Little Harry," said his father, soothingly, " my dear child, is very happy now. He has gone to heaven to Jesus among the glorious angels who sing God s praises forever." " Oh, papa !" cried the child, " God has plenty of little angels up there to sing praises. He could have spared us our darling brother, I know." THY WILL BE DONE. 315 Has there been no such reproachful cry wrung from older and truly Christian hearts in the first hour of sorrow and bereavement ? "Who shall too severely censure, if the same thought was echoed from the wretched mother s bosom ? ~Not so with her noble husband, however. "With the simple faith of a little child, he recognized a father s hand, meekly he bowed his head, assured that " He doeth all things well," and said, " Thy will be done." Two days after, his face shining with the glorious consolations which were shedding their healing balm over his spirit, Mr. Herbert stood by the coffin of his beloved child, surrounded by weeping friends and parishioners, and himself conducted the funeral services before committing the precious form to the earth. And when, most tenderly, he seated the drooping mother in the carriage, in which had been placed the little coffin, that hid their beloved boy from their eyes, his face was radiant with the peace which passeth understand ing, and the words of comfort, softly whispered into her ear, enabled her to stand by his side at that open grave, and see the child, which had known no colder cradle than her loving breast, laid therein. 316 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. But who can hear that fearful sound the heavy fall of the earth on the coffin s lid unmoved ? The groan which burst from Mr. Herbert s breast, as he turned with his suffering wife to the carriage, was no dishonor to his faith and hope, for his master wept over the grave of Lazarus, even while know ing that his own voice would soon command the silent occupant to come forth and awake to a new life. CHAPTEE XIX. CONCLUSION. How many of those who may read these pages will at once, as is most natural, picture to them selves our friends return to their desolate home. And they will imagine the sad and heavy-hearted father, hardly capable of attending to the most pressing duties ; the drooping mother, clad in sombre robes, weeping away the heavy hours, or lying ex hausted on the sofa, too absorbed in sorrow to notice the efforts of her remaining children to attract her notice or claim her care ; and the servants gliding noiselessly about the house, in their simple- hearted sympathy with their employers sorrows. Ah, these luxuries of grief are not for the poor or for the faithful. ~No mourning apparel no darkened rooms no luxuriant sofa no obsequious attend ants to obviate the necessity for household labor, and give the trembling frame a moment for repose 317 318 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. On the contrary, Mr. and Mrs. Herbert go back to their silent abode to resume laborious duties, which had only, for a few hours, been intermitted, and to force back into the deepest recesses of their own hearts the ever-present consciousness of their loss " To miss his small feet on the stair, To miss him at the morning prayer, To miss him all day everywhere. 1 All thirf sorrow must be battled with in silence, for other afflicted ones are in their midst. They may not falter and sink beneath personal griefs. They must look above to their Master for help to bear their own burdens, and strength to comfort other mourners. Mrs. Francis, though feeble, had been at the par sonage at little Harry s funeral, but Mrs. Leighton was very ill. Her third child was born the very day that her favorite nephew died, and Mrs. Her bert returned from the burial only to find an urgent request for her to come at once to her brother s. She found Sarah very feeble, and her husband seriously alarmed. There was no severe pain, but total prostration of the system, and apparently no power to rally. Still, it was difficult to believe that FEAKING NO EVIL. 319 life was drawing to a close, while conversing with her. Her sick-room was the pleasantest spot in the house. She was always cheerful, always satisfied and contented, receiving with affectionate gratitude each token of care and attention, and only anxious to cause as little trouble as possible. She was not aware, as yet, of the fears that dis tressed her friends ; but all felt confident that her heart was stayed on God, and that the summons to pass through the dark valley and cross the. flood, would find her " fearing no evil, for the rod and staff" of Almighty love, would comfort and strengthen her. No suffering disturbed her tranquil spirit. The chastening rod was laid very lightly upon her. "When inquiries were made, from day to day, as to her health, her reply was, " Oh, I should feel quite well if I were not so tired /" and she often sport ively added to Mrs. Herbert, " Sister Mary, won t your brother get out of patience with such an indolent wife ? It does seem so ridiculous that I should call myself ill, when I have so little pain. If you and my husband did not manifest such so licitude, and care for me so tenderly, I should 320 FliOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. sometimes be half afraid that you might by and by think I made no effort to get well. But you are both so kind true brother and sister in spirit, as well as by natural ties. It tries me greatly, dar ling sister, that I can be no help or comfort to you since our dear little Harry left us." "Do not say so, dearest Sarah. It is a great relief from my own thoughts to come to you as often as I can, and if I could see you improving even a little, I think I should be almost happy once more." Sarah was slightly agitated when she replied : "Don t you think I am some better? I have several times thought by your manner lately Mary, dear, you surely do not think me danger ously ill?" She gazed earnestly into her sister s face, and could not fail to read the fears which had for some days distressed all her friends. The invalid covered her face with her hand, and the tears slowly glided between her pale fingers. After a long silence, she looked up, and save that her eye was brighter, hardly any trace of agitation was visible. " This is very unexpected and sudden, my kind CHRISTIAN DESIGNATION. sister, yet you need not so long have concealed your anxiety from me. I know in whom I have believed, and though it is hard, very hard, to leave loving friends my dear husband and those pre cious little ones yet, God knows best, and he will give me strength to part with them, fully assured of meeting all that my heart so fondly clings to, in that home where there will be no sorrow, and 6 where the inhabitants shall no more say lam sick. " She continued for some days with no sensible change, speaking freely of her condition (for after a long and solemn conversation with her husband, he was compelled to acknowledge to her that he could see no prospect of recovery), and as calmly expressing her wishes respecting her children, and all pertaining to them, as if she was only prepar ing for a journey. To the very last she was free from pain, and even the final struggle with the Con queror was most mercifully spared her. The last morning of her earthly life, she had appeared as well as usual, and was sitting up, when she sud denly exclaimed, "7" am so tired! Please, dear husband, help me to the bed." He did so, and placed her in a favorite position. She looked into his face, with her own loving smile, and folding 14* 322 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. her hands upon her breast, closed her eyes, as if dropping sweetly to sleep. But in an instant she started, exclaiming, " Charles, Charles, dear Charles !" and ceased to breathe. And thus another link, from the golden chain of earthly love, was carried by this dear sister, to unicS our sorrowing friends still more closely to the heavenly world, and the precious ones safely gathered there. The bereaved husband, and motherless children, were taken at once to the parsonage. The little babe, of but a few weeks, tarried only long enough to make the desolate house still more lonely, when he took his departure for the better home, to which his mother had ascended. Under these circumstances, it would seem only natural to suppose, that in the hour of such severe trials, the people comprising Mr. Herbert s church and congregation would rouse to a realizing sense of the claims their pastor had upon them, and relieve him, at least, from pecuniary anxiety. Not so at all. They had bustling manifestations of sympathy for the sick-room, instead of efficient ser vice and tears in floods for the coffin and the grave, and for those, who, resting from life s cares, INEFFICIENT SYMPATHY. 323 in the full enjoyment of unmixed blessings, were no longer conscious of the interest manifested but dry eyes, and, at ~best, careless, heedless hearts, for the less favored survivors, to whom an efficient sympathy r , or even common justice, would have been an unspeakable comfort and relief. But tears, without works, are cheap ; they cost the givers nothing, and are always on hand ; but they will not clothe the mourner, or keep the house warm, or pay the grocer, and many other common, homely kind of things, which will put themselves in a body s way even when the heart is heavy, and the home too still ! The second year of trial, which Mr. Francis and Dr. Leighton had urged Mr. Herbert to give his people, before finally resolving to resign, was fast passing away. And after the first few weeks of wakening, no change was visible in the Norton fashion of supporting the Gospel. They slept as soundly as ever, and, weakened by illness, and bereavement, the good couple were becoming almost indifferent as to the result. It was at this time that an incident occurred which cut them to the heart. When little Harry died, his father requested ono 324: FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. of the officers of the church to take charge of all the funeral arrangements, and at the same time, most earnestly entreated that all the bills connected with the sad ceremony might be discharged at once, so that no business allusions should ever be made to them upon this painful subject. The church and society were, at this very time, indebted to their pastor full three hundred dollars, and one would suppose that a commission so sacred as this would not be forgotten or neglected. Just at this period, Mr. Herbert fell severely ill, and for some days a few of his most intimate friends, among the officers of the church, as well as the physicians, were in almost constant attend ance. The room where he lay served as study, parlor, bed room, and hall the front door open ing directly into it. One day, just as the paroxysm of fever was passing away, two of the elders of the church and Dr. Leighton, were standing near the bedside, when a man rode close to the door-steps, so as to be able to look full upon the bed, and in a coarse, boisterous voice, called out : " I say there ! (Two or three weeks ago, I made the coffin and buried a young one from here, and was told that I wasn t to come here for my pay, but it would I WANT MY MONEY. 325 be handed me by the man who engaged the work. "Wall, IVe asked for it, and asked for it, and h ant got the pay ; and I tell you more, this ere way of doing business ain t my fashion. I am poor. I want my money, and will have it !" Mrs. Herbert hastened to the door at the first sound, and tried to check the torrent of words before her husband should understand the matter. But she could not succeed. lie started up in bed, and casting a severe and reproachful glance upon Mr. Sanders, one of the gentlemen to whom he had intrusted this most sacred commis sion, inquired why a request, made under such solemn circumstances, had been neglected. For getful/ness was the only plea to excuse that which had caused them so cruel an insult. This was one of the things which, though forgiven, was never forgotten, and never could be, and which did more toward weakening the bonds that bound them to Norton, than all their past experience united. It was a manifestation of such heartlessness, that Mr. Herbert was half ready to believe the se verity with which his wife sometimes expressed her opinions of the constant neglect of their com fort and happiness which had characterized all 326 FUOil DAWJf TO DAYLIGHT. tlieir transactions, was more justifiable than lie had ever been willing to concede before. All his natural kindness of heart and readiness to throw a broad mantle of charitable excuses over the faults or mistakes of those with whom he was associated all his true and earnest love for the people of his charge, could furnish no cloak for carelessness like this. The naked fact was brought before them in all its selfishness, and they were compelled to face it. The result could only be a painful conviction, that though their church might value their labors very highly, and love them truly, yet, they re ceived this labor as a natural right, and felt under no obligation to return any equivalent for health destroyed, and labor bestowed in their service. The past year had, for various reasons, been more expensive than any previous one, and Mr. Herbert s labor more poorly compensated. Bills had accumulated, which could remain unpaid no longer, and yet, how were they to procure the money to settle them, if they could not first obtain that which was so justly theirs, and for which they had so faithfully labored ? The time for prompt and decided action had come The evil they had so nuch dreaded, was DELIBEEATIONB. 327 now right in their path, and from it there was no way of escape. Any further attempt to trust to the promised support of their Norton friends, would only end in involving them so that they could not pay those who had trusted to their honor. If they broke the ties uniting them to this church now, although they must go out from among them penniless, yet they could feel that they left none behind who would pecuniarily suffer through them. They had had some little assistance from eastern friends at various times, and Mr. Herbert had prudently invested it in a garden, upon which he was building a small house. By the sale of these, they could cancel all indebtedness; and it might be, that a part of their salary, still due, would be paid. There were no fears with regard to another settle ment. They had remained in Norton for love, not money or necessity. ]S r o three months had elapsed without bringing most urgent invitations to remove to churches, whose habits were more prompt and liberal than in their present position. Mr. Herbert would have chosen to spend his life in western labor, but his wife s health was so broken by the climate and over-exertions united, that her phy sicians recommended an eastern field. He had 328 FKOH DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. had several invitations to return East, and settle, and the very week that he was taken ill, had received a most urgent letter to that effect from a church in a young and flourishing city near to their native place. It had remained unanswered some time, and a second had followed it, more ear nest than the first. To this he now replied, stating that the health of his family, and other circumstances, made it probable, that he should be obliged to remove from his present location, but, declining to give a definite answer for some weeks. His strong affec tions clung to this home, and almost unconsciously to himself, there was an undefined hope still lingering, that something it would be difficult to say what might yet enable them to remain. Then followed some of the good clergyman s most harassing and trying weeks. He was com pelled to call his people once more together, and lay before them again, a statement of his pecu niary embarrassments, and assure them that he no longer felt that any arrangement could now be effected, by which it would be safe for himself, or honorable to others, for him to remain with them longer. Of course this made a great commotion. THE QUESTION SETTLED. 329 Most liberal resolutions, and generous promises, were offered, as once before, but not now, as then, followed by an immediate settlement of salary yet unpaid. Both Mr. Francis and Dr. Leighton, were exceed ingly distressed at the prospect of their leaving them, though Dr. Leighton did not deny that his sister could no longer endure the climate and labor united; but felt that her health- might be restored if she could have the means of living less laboriously and he gave these views very fully at the church-meetings. It was a painful thing for Mr. Herbert to think of withdrawing from this field on account of pecu niary considerations, merely. Day after day, he asked himself if they could not live even more closely than before if it was not wrong for a ser vant of Him who for our sakes became poor, and had not where to lay his head, to leave that part of the vineyard to which his master seemed to have called him, for such motives as these. The question was answered for him, in a way that enabled him to see other and stronger reasons for leaving; and such as left his conscience entirely free from doubt. 330 FROM DAWK TO DAYLIGHT. Mrs. Herbert was again attacked witli sudden and alarming illness. "When, at last, the imme diate danger had passed, it left her system in a state that compelled an entire change of climate, as the only hope of final recovery. Thus, Mr. Herbert saw his course marked out for him, and had no hesitation in deciding to accept this inter pretation of his duty. It would be some time before he could remove his wife with safety, and he employed this interval in trying to secure the right kind of a man to fill his place ; but soon saw that as long as he still remained with them, the people could see nothing desirable in another. Meanwhile, Francis and Leighton were not idle, but trying, by every means in their power, to secure the full payment of what was still due. There was 110 trouble in securing promises that had always been easy, but the fulfillment was as usual in the future. Mr. Herbert s little house and garden were bought by a dear friend, and Mr. Francis engaged that it should be made to settle all demands that could be found against the original owner. The people did, at last, succeed in raising a part TOO LATE. 831 | ol vhat was due their pastor, but not enough to enable him to move his family east, and therefore everything they had, but Mr. Herbert s small library, and their very meagre wardrobe, was sold at auc tion ; and not till the arrangements were all made, and the sale notified, did their church really wake up to the certainty that their pastor was in earnest. Then, indeed, when it was too late, did they mani fest a degree of sorrow, only equalled by their former lethargy. Every plea that could be imagined was brought forward, every offer made to induce Mr. Herbert to change his mind, and consent to remain. As the matter was now beyond discussion, his love for them was still too strong to allow of any reproaches. It would do no good, now, to tell them, that for years they had had the power to retain him on their own hands, and it was their indolence and inefficiency which had broken the bonds which bound them together. He knew that they loved him, but he also knew that their promises were written on the sand. No kindness or liberality could now restore his wife to health or strength while there. It was all too late for severity or rebuke, and his heart prompted him to speak only of his wife s health, and leave 332 FEOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. * it with their consciences to tell them if there were not other very important reasons back of that, and which were also the cause of her illness, that had really sent him from among them. Mrs. Herbert s first effort was to write home; and we close with the letter to her mother : " NORTON, Dec. , 18. " MY DEAKEST MOTHER : " Your last letter has remained too long un answered, but I have two very good reasons, which I know will free me from any appearance of neg lect. First, I have been very ill, and for many days doubted if I should recover ; and secondly, we have for some time felt the necessity of chang ing our present location. My illness has compelled us to a decision, which has for a long time been expected. " You will be surprised to learn that we are to leave Norton, as soon as I am able to travel ; and, if life be spared, shall hope to be with you, darling mother! once more, in a few weeks. Oh, my mother, it stops my breath to think of it ! After so many years of separation, shall I indeed once more lay my head on your bosom once more see the WHAT CHANGES I 333 dear old home ? But ah ! what changes since last I stood beneath its shelter ! " It will be a sad return. After all, I have never half realized that father is no longer there. When ever I think of Hill Farm, my mind instinctively rests upon him, as the energetic and vigorous head. Being absent myself, his death has always seemed like a painful dream ; and now, for the first time, it begins to feel like a sad reality. " And I, too, have changed, my mother. Do not expect to see the rosy, healthy, merry daughter from whom you parted. Sickness, hard labor, and bereavements have followed one another very rapidly for the last few years, and have made me old before my time. You will hardly know me, mother. " But I forget that all this time I am keeping you in ignorance of the causes which have made it advisable for us to leave our people here, and find a home elsewhere. " As you will have suspected from our letters, since we came to Norton, our healths have suffered greatly from the effects of the climate. I do not think, however, that the climate should bear all the blame. It is no doubt very trying, and I 334: FF.OM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. do not believe there are many, in the easiest cir cumstances, that can remain here for any length of time, and not be affected in some degree by it. But added to this, we have been fitted for ready victims to the unhealthy influences by poor pay, and consequently over-work. It was hard enough when we lived in Glenville ; but our church there was not culpable. They, most truly, did all they could, and the place was really a healthy one. Here, I regret to say, most of the blame must rest upon the negligence of a people who have ever, I doubt not, loved us truly, but could never realize that a devoted minister, such as my dear husband has been, was worthy of at least a com fortable support ; and having given them his whole time, strength and thought, such support was only justice, not charity. But if their hearts have ever told them their duty, their practice has been entirely different. The sum they first pledged was only barely sufficient for our absolute necessities, used with strict economy, but with that we should have been well content for we have never asked for luxuries and are, and have ever been, willing to work hard, and live in the most primitive man ner. But no one year have they ever paid us fully, FAIR PROMISES. 335 and the little we have received has been by con stant solicitation. Still we loved our people with an affection not easily chilled, and because we have thus loved them, we have submitted to the humiliation of buying that which we must have on credit, and securing the means to pay our own debts, by dunning our people for our just dues ; or when our creditors would not receive the promises, that our demands obtained, as contentedly as if they were good gold, we have tried hard to meet their reasonable calls by the little I could gain by my needle, or by the increased labors of tak ing gentlemen to board, or the produce of our garden. " This will seem a very strange, if not wholly improbable statement, to an eastern mind, and my mother will ask, c "Why did you not leave at once, when you found that they considered fair pro mises as a proper equivalent for their pastor s labors? " My only answer, dearest mother, must be, that we loved our church. "We could not help it, little as you may think they deserved our interest ; and besides, we felt, and still feel, sure that they recipro cated our affection. They are a very interesting 336 FKOM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. and most lovable people, and in most things ex ceedingly generous; but they have never been trained to feel that a clergyman s promised salary was a business transaction, which they were as much bound in honor to pay as any other debt. " "Well, it is all over now. Our last year s salary is still partly unpaid, and much as they grieve at our leaving them, I doubt if even now they will make it up, or feel that their own short-comings have really been the main cause of severing the pleasant ties which have so long united us. But though we do not yet see how, the hardships we have passed through will not have been in vain. "We feel that we shall have been, in some sense, pioneers, to prepare the way for other of our brethren to labor as successfully, and with less pecuniary hindrances ; because the people will have learned that their spiritual teacher must have the means of comfortable living, if they would have his labors blessed with an abundant harvest. " George has been solicited to come and take charge of the church, you used to know as Eev. Mr. Holdfast s. Twice he has declined, but the third application came when our affairs had reached a crisis that no longer admitted of tempo- MISGIVINGS. 337 rizing or forbearance, and added to that, I was the same week taken ill. The physicians all agreed that I ought no longer to remain in this climate, or risk the probability of being obliged to exert myself so much beyond my strength, as heretofore. Brother Charles, greatly as he sorrows at the thought of a separation, is very decided as to our duty in this matter, and cousin Francis is just as eccentric in his manifestations of kindness and good will as ever. " And now, dear mother, I must draw this long letter to a close. Soon, soon I shall be with you, I trust, and if God prospers us, shall be living near you. This is all very delightful. But there are other thoughts that are sad. I never imagined that the idea of a return to you, my mother, could be anything but unmixed joy. But here, if I have suffered much, I have enjoyed much. I love, very dearly, many here. Our labors and deprivations have brought George and myself together, as we never could have been, in a* more prosperous, and comfortable settlement; and I dread, lest the larger field, and an entirely different class of duties for both, may naturally tend to separate us, or so divide our duties that we shall be less together 15 338 FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT. I exceedingly shrink from associations which wil require a more formal etiquette, and will almost compel a less primitive style of living. I have a most inveterate dislike to city life and all its pecu liarities, and would rather stay here and work till I die, than have George -become like many city clergymen, whom I have had many opportunities of observing. And then there are some little green graves that I can never look upon again if I go away ; but of these I may not speak, I am weak, yet, and it unnerves me. I will close now, and what else is to be told, my beloved mother must hear from the lips of her loving " J&AKY." And now, having followed our friends to the close of their western life, we will leave them for the present. A new path lies before and what ever of care or trial may be hidden in it, for them, it will, most probably, be of a totally different nature. Some future day we may feel inclined to give our readers an opportunity to compare the past with the life upon which they enter as we bid them farewell. We will offer no apologies for the minutenes of FAREWELL. 339 detail which may have made this narrative tedious. A simple western home history was all that we promised, and abiding by the truth, we have made no attempt at sentiment, or display. THE END, tfc jadwn s DERBY & JACKSON S STANDAED BRITISH CLASSICS. IN FIFTEEN VOLUMES, COMPRISING: BOSWELL S JOHNSON, Four Volumes. ADDISON S WORKS, Six Volumes. GOLDSMITH S WORKS, Four Volumes. FIELDING S WORKS, Four Volumes. 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