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. 
 
 SMOLLETT S WORKS, Six Volumes. 
 
 STERNE S WORKS, Two Volumes. 
 
 DEAN SWIFT S WORKS, Six Volumes. 
 
 JOHNSON S WORKS, Two Volumes. 
 
 DEFOE S WORKS, Two Volumes. 
 
 LAMB S WORKS, Five Volumes. 
 
 HAZLITT S WORKS, Five Volumes 
 
 LEIGH HUNT S WORKS, Four Volumes. 
 
 Pronounced the most valuable and handsome set of books ever intro 
 duced into the American market. Put up in two elegant cases, bound in 
 half calf antique, or half calf gilt. Price $2 25 per volume, or, per set, 
 $112 50. 
 
 We also have the same works, bound in neat cloth, for $1 25 per 
 volume ; or sheep, library style for $1 50 per vol. 
 
 * # * Either or all of the above will be sent by mail, post-paid, on 
 receipt of price. 
 
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& Jackson s 
 
 LIBRARY OF SACRED CLASSICS, 
 
 PRINTED FEOM NEW AND BEAUTIFUL LAHGE (PICA) TYPE. 
 
 PROGRESS, 12mo.,$l f/0 
 THE SAME fuU gilt sides and edges, ...... 1 60 
 
 THE SAME half calf antique, ....... 2 00 
 
 DODDRIDGE S RISE $ PROGRESS, 12mo., 1 00 
 
 THE SAME full gilt sides and edges, ...... 1 50 
 
 THE SAME half calf, antique, ....... 2 00 
 
 BAXTER S SAINTS REST, 12mo., . . . 1 00 
 
 THE SAME full gilt sides and edges, ...... 1 50 
 
 THE SAME half calf, antique, ....... 2 00 
 
 HOJLJT JLIVIJTG, 12mo., . . . 1 00 
 
 THE SAME full gilt sides and edges, ...... 1 50 
 
 THE SAME half calf, antique, ....... 2 00 
 
 Other volumes of a similar character to follow, 
 
 John Sunyan I Philip Doddridge ! Richard Baxter f Jeremy Taylor ! 
 "Pilgrim s Progress," " Rise and Progress," " SainW Rest," and "Holy Living." 
 What Authors ! What Subjects ! What Books ! Writers for immortality on immortal 
 subjects, familiar to every reader from early infancy household names and words and 
 books for our maturer years. They will live forever, and do good to all. Old and young 
 alike can drink at this well, "pure and undented," certain of refreshing draughts o( 
 pure and wholesome literature. 
 
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A most interesting Work. 
 
 THE RIFLE, AXE, AND SADDLE-BAGS, 
 
 A VOLUME OP LECTURES 
 
 BY REI^T. WILLIAM: HEISTRY MiiLiBTJiRiisr. 
 
 One neat volume, 12mo. Price $1 00. 
 
 CONTENTS (IN PART). 
 
 THE SYMBOLS OF EAKLY WESTERN CHARACTER. 
 The Untamed "Wilderness Daniel Boone The Female Captive The 
 Mysterious Shot A Narrow Escape A Backwoods Marriage Wedding 
 Dinner and Dance Homes in the Wilderness Justice in the Backwoods 
 Preachers in the Wilderness The Preacher s Dormitory Henry Beidel- 
 man Bascom " Old Jimmy s " Reproofs The Pioneer s Work. 
 
 THE TRIUMPHS OF GENIUS OVER BLINDNESS. 
 
 Beauty and Effects of Light Eminent Blind Men Remarkable Sense 
 of Hearing John Milton Premonitions of Blindness Blindness an Im 
 pediment to Oratory Sympathy Necessary to the Speaker The other 
 Senses Quickened The Blind Man s Need is his Gain " I am Old and 
 Blind." 
 
 AN HOUR S TALK ABOUT WOMAN. 
 
 The Moral Greater than the Intellectual John Howard the Philanthro 
 pist Ancient and Modern Women Frivolity a Prevailing Evil Earnest 
 ness of Female Authors Women the Best Literary Instructors Woman s 
 Responsibility The Power of Sympathy The Importance of Conversa 
 tion Woman the True Reformer. 
 
 EARLY DISCOVERIES IN THE SOUTHWEST. 
 
 Exploration of the Mississippi-^-Gold Unsuccessfully Sought Collisions 
 with the Indians Attack upon the Chickasaws Historical Traditions 
 Incidents of Forest Life Dispersion of the Settlers Anglo-Saxon Su 
 premacy. 
 
 Address, 
 
 DERBY & JACKSON, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 119 NASSAU S?REET, N. Y. 
 
|ackm s Jpablicaiions. 
 
 THE WORKS OF ANNE RADCLIFFE, 
 
 T^o t?oZs., wow ready, 
 
 Comprising " The Mysteries of Udolpho," and " Romance of the Forest n 
 With steel portrait. 12mo. 
 
 Price in Cloth $2 00 
 
 " Sheep, library style, . . 2 50 
 " Half calf, gilt or antique, . 4 00 
 
 Like the great painter with whom she has been compared, Mrs. Radcliffe loveu to 
 sport with the romantic and terrible with the striking images of the mountain forests, 
 the cloud and storm, wild banditti, ruined castles, half-discovered glimpses of visionary 
 shadows of the invisible world which seem at times to cross our path, and which still 
 haunt aud Ihrill the imagination. 
 
 THE WORKS OF JANE PORTER. 
 
 Two vote., now ready. 
 
 Comprising " The Scottish Chiefs," and " Thaddeus of Warsaw." With 
 steel portrait. 12mo. 
 
 Price in Cloth $2 00 
 
 " Sheep, lihrary style, . . 2 50 
 " Half calf, gilt or antique, . 4 00 
 
 " Thaddeus of Warsaw, which in our youth beguiled us of our tears, is a favorite. 
 It is to Miss Porter s fame that she began the system of historical novel-writing, which 
 attained the climax of its renown in the hands of Sir Walter Scott. And no light praise 
 It is that she has thus pioneered the way for the greatest exhibition of the greatest 
 genius of our time. She may parody Bishop Hall, and tell Sir Walter : 
 
 I first adventured follow me who list, 
 And be second Scottish novelist. " 
 
 Frazer 8 Magazine. 
 
 *** The above will be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 
 
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atii$on s 
 
 THE WORKS OF JANE AUSTEN, 
 
 Comprising "Pride and Prejudice," "Sense and Sensibility," "Mansfield 
 Park," " Northanger Abbey," "Emma," and "Persuasion." First 
 American Edition, with steel vignettes, complete in 4 vols , 12mo. 
 
 Price in Cloth, $4 00 
 
 " Sheep, library style, . . .500 
 " Half calf, gilt or antique, . . 8 00 
 
 Miss Austen is emphatically the novelist of Home. The truth, spirit, ease, and re 
 fined humor of her style, have rarely been equalled. She will always retain a leading 
 position in literature, as the representative of the domestic school of novels, of which 
 she was the founder, the great charm of which is truth and simplicity ; and notwith 
 standing the brilliant successes of many recent imitators, she still remains undisputed 
 mistress of this class of composition. 
 
 THE WORKS OF HANNAH MORE, 
 
 Two vols. now ready. 
 
 Comprising "Coelebs in Search of a Wife," her Tales and Allegories. 
 With portrait on steel. 12mo. 
 
 Price in Cloth, $2 00 
 
 " Sheep, library style, . . .250 
 " Half calf, gilt or antique, . . 4 00 
 
 How many have thanked God for the hour that first made them acquainted with 
 the Writings of Hannah More. She did, perhaps, as much real good in her generation 
 as any woman that ever held the pen. It would be idle for us to dwell here on works so 
 well known. They have established her name as a great moral writer, possessing a 
 masterly command over the resources of our language, and devoting a keen wit and 
 a lively fancy to the best and noblest of purposes." Quarterly Review. 
 
 *n* The above will be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price* 
 
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THE LADY S GUIDE 
 
 TO 
 
 PERFECT GENTILITY 
 
 m MANNERS, DRESS, AND CONVERSATION, 
 
 IN THE FAMILY, IN COMPANY, AT THE PIANO FORTE, THE TABLE, IN THH 
 
 STREET, AND IN GENTLEMEN S SOCIETY. 
 
 ALSO, 
 
 A USEFUL INSTRUCTOR IN LETTER-WRITING, TOILET PREPARATIONS, FANCY 
 
 NEEDLE-WORK, MILLINERY, DRESSMAKING, CARE OF WARDROBE, 
 
 THE HAIR, TEETH, HANDS, LIPS, COMPLEXION, ETC. 
 
 BY EMILY THORNWELL, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE YOUNG LADIES OWN BOOK," ETC. 
 
 One Handsome 12mo. Volume, with Steel Plate. Price 75 cents. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Agreeableness and Beauty of Person Requisites to Female Beauty Pimples and 
 Wrinkles Choice Cosmetics for Beautifying the Skin Treatment of the Hair How to 
 Preserve the Teeth Sound and White Choice Dentifrice Means of securing a Beautiful 
 Tint to the Lips Means of Improving the Appearance of the Hands Ornamental effect 
 of neatly kept Nails How to have a Sweet Breath Gentility and Refinement Taste 
 with Regard to Manners Low and Vulgar Associations Gait and Carriage Gentle 
 men s Attendance Kind of Cards and Manner of Carrying them Length of Calls Re 
 ceiving Visitors Introductions Giving Invitations Who may be Invited Taking 
 Leare Dancing Occasions Invitation to Sing or Play Conversation at the Table The 
 Ceremony After Congratulations : and Festivities Invitations to Ride on Horseback 
 Polite, Easy, and Graceful Deportment Female Dress How to combine Elegance, Style 
 and Economy Ladies Morning Attire Street Dress Young Ladies Attire The Ap 
 parel of Older Ladies Gloves, Handkerchiefs, Stockings, etc. The Relation of Colow 
 Effect of Tight Lacing, etc. Cleaning and Washing Dresses To Perfume Linen To 
 Extract Grease Spots To Prevent Moths The Art of Conversing with Fluency and Pro 
 priety How to Treat Flattery How to Address Young Gentlemen Speaking of One s 
 Self Things, Words, and Sayings to be Avoided Art of Correct and Elegant Letter- 
 WritingUseful Hints and Rules for Letter- Writers Style of Addressing Different Pei - 
 sons Models or Plans for Various Letters Elegant Fancy Needle-work Bracelets A 
 Pretty Lace Collar Embroidery in its Various Modes Stitches on Muslin and Lace- 
 Composition for Drawing Patterns The Art of Millinery and Dressmaking Effect of 
 Bonnets on the general appearance Facts and Rules in Dressmaking, etc. etc. etc. 
 
 %* The above will be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of pjifv* 
 
 W. H. TIJJSON Printer and Stereotyper, 43 & 45 Centre St., N. Y. 
 
$ Jackson s ^publications. 
 
 THE AMERICAN 
 
 GENTLEMAN S GUIDE 
 
 TO 
 
 POLITENESS AND FASHION ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 FAMILIAR LETTERS TO HIS NEPHEWS, CONTAINING RULES OF ETIQUETTE, 
 
 DIRECTIONS FOR THE FORMATION OF CHARACTER, ETC. ETC., 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY SKETCHES DRAWN FROM LIFE, 
 
 OF THE MEN AND MANNERS OF OUR TIMES. 
 
 BY 
 
 One neat 12mo. Price $1 25. 
 
 CONTE NTS. 
 
 i)RESS. Fashion Taste in Dress Example of Byron Dr. Johnson and the Siddons 
 Horace Greeley Example of Washington Selections of Colors Morning Costume 
 Ceremonious Costume Mode of Wearing the Hair and Beard Collars Use of Dia 
 monds in Dress True Refinement Test of High Breeding Wearing Gloves in 
 Dancing Street and Morning Visits The Mill-Boy of the Slashes Anecdotes Illus 
 trative of Dress The Hero of the Bali-Room The Fashionable Hat Travelling 
 Gloves of an Exquisite Gov. Marcy and the Parisians Distinctive Mark of a Gen 
 tlemanDetails of Gentleman s Dress Wedding Costume Morning and Evening 
 Dress Costume for Bachelors Effect of Black Dress Blue Brown. 
 
 MANNERS. Manner Indicative of Character The Fashionable Manner Good Breed 
 ingThe St. Nicholas Hotel " Willard s," at Washington Manner to Parents- 
 Brothers and Sisters To a Wife The Sensibility of Woman Domestic Politeness 
 Proper Mode of Salutation Rule, when meeting a Gentleman walking with Ladies 
 Shaking hands with Ladies Courteous Phrases Parting Ceremonies Walking with 
 Ladies Staring at Ladies Ceremonious Visits Character of Conversation Card of 
 Announcement Drawing-Room Rules Visitors taking leave Offering the Arm 
 Wedding Receptions Leaving Cards Visits on New Year s Day Attending Ladies 
 at Concerts Manner at a Public Table Driving with Ladies Introduction of Guests. 
 
 THE TOILET. The True Basis of Health The Bath The Hair The Teeth The Naila 
 
 A Complete Wardrobe Riding and Driving Simple Tastes in Eating Use of Wine, 
 etc. Amusements in the open Air Fashionable Watering Places. 
 
 LETTER-WRITING. Variety of Styles A good Business-hand Letters of Introduction 
 
 Letter to a Lady of Fashion Introducing Men to Women Evening Parties Let 
 ters of Recommendation Proper Style of Letters of Condolence, etc. Notes of 
 Invitation Letter-Superscription. 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENTS. Taste for Music Advantage of Dancing, Riding and Driving 
 The Art of Conversation Use of Slang Phrases Conversational Topics Courtesy to 
 Ladies and Clergyman Quickness at Repartee. 
 
 HABIT. Fashion not always Good-Breeding The Tie of a Cravat Walking, Standing, 
 Sitting Ease of Attitude The Art of Carving Helping Ladies at Table Ladiea 
 Careful Observers Proper Attitude while Reading Habits of Good-Humor, etc. 
 
 MENTAL AND MORAL EDUCATION. Definition of Self-CultureReading for Amuse 
 mentFictitious Literature Knowledge under Difficulties Learned Blacksmith- 
 Franklin and Webster Choice of Companions and Friends Selection of a Pursuit 
 in Life Courtship Marriage Housekeeping Pecuniary Matters Value of Friend 
 ship The Merchant Princes The Pursuit of Wealth Advantages of Early Marriage 
 
 Friendship with a Married Lady Presents Pernicious Effects of Boarding An 
 Old Man s Advice Cupid turned Carrier A True Woman s Letter Uncle Hal s 
 Farewell. 
 
 %* The above will be sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price 
 
GOOD AND POPULAR BOOKS, 
 
 PUBLISHED BY DERBY & JACKSON. 
 
 TEN TEARS OF PREACHER LIFE. By Rev. W. H. MILBUBN. 12mo. $1 09 
 
 RIFLE, AXE AND SADDLEBAGS. " " " 12mo. 1 00 
 
 GREECE AND THE GOLDEN HORN. By Rev. STEPHEN OLIN. 12mo. 10ft 
 
 TRA VELS IN EG YPT AND THE HOL Y LAND. By STEPHENS. 8vo. 2 00 
 
 CAPTAIN COOK S VOYAGES ROUND TUE WORLD. 12mo 1 00 
 
 PICTORIAL LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. Svo 2 00 
 
 RANDALLS LIFE OF THOMAS JEFFERSON. 8 rols. Svo T 50 
 
 BUNYAN S PILGRIM S PROGRESS. 12mo 1 00 
 
 BUNYAN S HOLY WAR. 12mo 100 
 
 FOX S BOOK OF MARTYRS. 12mo 100 
 
 DODDRIDGE S RISE AND PROGRESS OF RELIGION. 12mo.... 100 
 
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 THE SCO TTISJT CHIEFS. By JANE PORTER. 12mo 1 00 
 
 THADDEUS OF WARSAW. " " 12mo 100 
 
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 THE ESSA YS OF ELIA. By CHARLES LAMB. 12mo 1 00 
 
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 WIRT S LIFE OF PATRICK HENRY. 12mo 100 
 
 SIMMS LIFE OF GENERAL MARION. 12mo 1 00 
 
 WA LKER S LIFE OF GENERA L JA CKSON. 12mo 1 00 
 
 LIFE AND CHOICE WORKS OF IS A A C WA TTS. 12mo 1 25 
 
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 CT19ifl7?3i 
 
 
 LD 21A-40m-2, 69 
 (J6057slO)476 A-32 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
M102444 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY