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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Solomon
+
+Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2012 [EBook #38998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and
+the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+BY
+
+CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.
+
+
+ODESSA, ONTARIO: JAMES NEISH & SONS, PUBLISHERS.
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+
+Midway in the eastern part of Ohio lies the coal country; round-topped
+hills there begin to show themselves in the level plain, trending back
+from Lake Erie; afterwards rising higher and higher, they stretch away
+into Pennsylvania and are dignified by the name of Alleghany Mountains.
+But no names have they in their Ohio birthplace, and little do the
+people care for them, save as storehouses for fuel. The roads lie along
+the slow-moving streams, and the farmers ride slowly over them in their
+broad-wheeled wagons, now and then passing dark holes in the bank from
+whence come little carts into the sunshine, and men, like _silhouettes_,
+walking behind them, with glow-worm lamps fastened in their hat-bands.
+Neither farmers nor miners glance up towards the hilltops; no doubt they
+consider them useless mounds, and, were it not for the coal, they would
+envy their neighbors of the grain-country whose broad, level fields
+stretch unbroken through Central Ohio; as, however, the canal-boats go
+away full, and long lines of coal-cars go away full, and every man's
+coal-shed is full, and money comes back from the great iron-mills of
+Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and Cleveland, the coal country, though unknown
+in a picturesque point of view, continues to grow rich and prosperous.
+
+Yet picturesque it is, and no part more so than the valley where stands
+the village of the quaint German Community on the banks of the
+slow-moving Tuscarawas River. One October day we left the lake behind us
+and journeyed inland, following the water-courses and looking forward
+for the first glimpse of rising ground; blue are the waters of Erie on a
+summer day, red and golden are its autumn sunsets, but so level, so
+deadly level are its shores that, at times, there comes a longing for
+the sight of distant hills. Hence our journey. Night found us still in
+the 'Western Reserve.' Ohio has some queer names of her own for portions
+of her territory, the 'Fire Lands,' the 'Donation Grant,' the 'Salt
+Section,' the 'Refugee's Tract,' and the 'Western Reserve' are names
+well known, although not found on the maps. Two days more and we came
+into the coal country; near by were the 'Moravian Lands,' and at the end
+of the last day's ride we crossed a yellow bridge over a stream called
+the 'One-Leg Creek.'
+
+'I have tried in vain to discover the origin of this name,' I said, as
+we leaned out of the carriage to watch the red leaves float down the
+slow tide.
+
+'Create one, then. A one-legged soldier, a farmer's pretty daughter, an
+elopement in a flat-bottomed boat, and a home upon this stream which
+yields its stores of catfish for their support,' suggested Erminia.
+
+'The original legend would be better than that if we could only find it,
+for real life is always better than fiction,' I answered.
+
+'In real life we are all masked; but in fiction the author shows the
+faces as they are, Dora.'
+
+'I do not believe we are all masked, Erminia. I can read my friends like
+a printed page.'
+
+'O, the wonderful faith of youth!' said Erminia, retiring upon her
+seniority.
+
+Presently the little church on the hill came into view through a vista
+in the trees. We passed the mill and its flowing race, the blacksmith's
+shop, the great grass meadow, and drew up in front of the quaint hotel
+where the trustees allowed the world's people, if uninquisitive and
+decorous, to remain in the Community for short periods of time, on the
+payment of three dollars per week for each person. This village was our
+favorite retreat, our little hiding-place in the hill-country; at that
+time it was almost as isolated as a solitary island, for the Community
+owned thousands of outlying acres and held no intercourse with the
+surrounding townships. Content with their own, unmindful of the rest of
+the world, these Germans grew steadily richer and richer, solving
+quietly the problem of co-operative labor, while the French and
+Americans worked at it in vain with newspapers, orators, and even cannon
+to aid them. The members of the Community were no ascetic anchorites;
+each tiled roof covered a home with a thrifty mother and train of grave
+little children, the girls in short-waisted gowns, kerchiefs, and
+frilled caps, and the boys in tailed coats, long-flapped vests, and
+trousers, as soon as they were able to toddle. We liked them all, we
+liked the life; we liked the mountain-high beds, the coarse snowy linen,
+and the remarkable counterpanes; we liked the cream stewed chicken, the
+Käse-lab, and fresh butter, but, best of all, the hot bretzels for
+breakfast. And let not the hasty city imagination turn to the hard,
+salty, saw-dust cake in the shape of a broken-down figure eight which is
+served with lager-beer in saloons and gardens. The Community bretzel was
+of a delicate flaky white in the inside, shading away into a
+golden-brown crust of crisp involutions, light as a feather, and flanked
+by little pats of fresh, unsalted butter, and a deep-blue cup wherein
+the coffee was hot, the cream yellow, and the sugar broken lumps from
+the old-fashioned loaf, now alas! obsolete.
+
+We stayed among the simple people and played at shepherdesses and
+pastorellas; we adopted the hours of the birds, we went to church on
+Sunday and sang German chorals as old as Luther. We even played at work
+to the extent of helping gather apples, eating the best, and riding home
+on top of the loaded four-horse wains. But one day we heard of a new
+diversion, a sulphur-spring over the hills about two miles from the
+hotel on land belonging to the Community; and, obeying the fascination
+which earth's native medicines exercise over all earth's children, we
+immediately started in search of the nauseous spring. The road wound
+over the hill, past one of the apple-orchards, where the girls were
+gathering the red fruit, and then down a little declivity where the
+track branched off to the Community coal-mine; then a solitary stretch
+through the thick woods, a long hill with a curve, and at the foot a
+little dell with a patch of meadow, a brook, and a log-house with
+overhanging root, a forlorn house unpainted and desolate. There was not
+even the blue door which enlivened many of the Community dwellings.
+'This looks like the huts of the Black Forest,' said Erminia. 'Who would
+have supposed that we should find such an antique in Ohio!'
+
+'I am confident it was built by the M. B.'s,' I replied. 'They tramped,
+you know, extensively through the State, burying axes and leaving every
+now and then a mastodon behind them.'
+
+'Well, if the Mound-Builders selected this site they showed good taste,'
+said Erminia, refusing, in her afternoon indolence, the argumentum
+nonsensicum with which we were accustomed to enliven our conversation.
+It was, indeed, a lovely spot,--the little meadow, smooth and bright as
+green velvet, the brook chattering over the pebbles, and the hills, gay
+in red and yellow foliage, rising abruptly on all sides. After some
+labor we swung open the great gate and entered the yard, crossed the
+brook on a mossy plank, and followed the path through the grass towards
+the lonely house. An old shepherd-dog lay at the door of a dilapidated
+shed, like a block-house, which had once been a stable; he did not bark,
+but, rising slowly, came along beside us,--a large, gaunt animal that
+looked at us with such melancholy eyes that Erminia stooped to pat him.
+Ermine had a weakness for dogs; she herself owned a wild beast of the
+dog kind that went by the name of the 'Emperor Trajan'; and, accompanied
+by this dignitary, she was accustomed to stroll up the avenues of C----,
+lost in maiden meditations.
+
+We drew near the house and stepped up on the sunken piazza, but no signs
+of life appeared. The little loophole windows were pasted over with
+paper, and the plank door had no latch or handle. I knocked, but no one
+came. 'Apparently it is a haunted house, and that dog is the spectre,' I
+said, stepping back.
+
+'Knock three times,' suggested Ermine; 'that is what they always do in
+ghost-stories.'
+
+'Try it yourself. My knuckles are not cast-iron.'
+
+Ermine picked up a stone and began tapping on the door. 'Open sesame,'
+she said, and it opened.
+
+Instantly the dog slunk away to his block-house and a woman confronted
+us, her dull face lighting up as her eyes ran rapidly over our attire
+from head to foot. 'Is there a sulphur-spring here?' I asked. 'We would
+like to try the water.'
+
+'Yes, it's here fast enough in the back hall. Come in, ladies; I'm right
+proud to see you. From the city, I suppose?'
+
+'From C----,' I answered; 'we are spending a few days in the Community.'
+
+Our hostess led the way through the little hall, and throwing open a
+back door pulled up a trap in the floor, and there we saw the
+spring,--a shallow well set in stones, with a jar of butter cooling in
+its white water. She brought a cup, and we drank. 'Delicious,' said
+Ermine. 'The true, spoiled-egg flavor! Four cups is the minimum
+allowance, Dora.'
+
+'I reckon it is good for the insides,' said the woman, standing with arms
+akimbo and staring at us. She was a singular creature, with large black
+eyes, Roman nose, and a mass of black hair tightly knotted on the top of
+her head, but pinched and gaunt; her yellow forehead was wrinkled with a
+fixed frown, and her thin lips drawn down in permanent discontent. Her
+dress was a shapeless linsey-woolsey gown, and home-made list slippers
+covered her long, lank feet 'Be that the fashion?' she asked, pointing
+to my short, closely fitting walking-dress.
+
+'Yes,' I answered; 'do you like it.'
+
+'Well, it does for you, sis, because you're so little and peaked-like,
+but it wouldn't do for me. The other lady, now, don't wear nothing like
+that; is she even with the style, too?'
+
+'There is such a thing as being above the style, madam,' replied Ermine,
+bending to dip up glass number two.
+
+'Our figgers is a good deal alike,' pursued the woman; 'I reckon that
+fashion ud suit me best.'
+
+Willowy Erminia glanced at the stick-like hostess. 'You do me honor,'
+she said, suavely. 'I shall consider myself fortunate, madam, if you
+will allow me to send you patterns from C----. What are we if not well
+dressed?'
+
+'You have a fine dog,' I began hastily, fearing lest the great, black
+eyes should penetrate the sarcasm; 'what is his name?'
+
+'A stupid beast! He's none of mine; belongs to my man.'
+
+'Your husband?'
+
+'Yes, my man. He works in the coal-mine over the hill.'
+
+'You have no children?'
+
+'Not a brat. Glad of it, too.'
+
+'You must be lonely,' I said, glancing around the desolate house. To my
+surprise suddenly the woman burst into a flood of tears, and sinking
+down on the floor she rocked from side to side, sobbing, and covering
+her face with her bony hands.
+
+'What can be the matter with her?' I said in alarm; and, in my
+agitation, I dipped up some sulphur-water and held it to her lips.
+
+'Take away the nasty smelling stuff,--I hate it!' she cried, pushing the
+cup angrily from her.
+
+Ermine looked on in silence for a moment or two, then she took off her
+neck-tie, a bright-colored Roman scarf, and threw it across the trap
+into the woman's lap. 'Do me the favor to accept that trifle, madame,'
+she said, in her soft voice.
+
+The woman's sobs ceased as she saw the ribbon; she fingered it with one
+hand in silent admiration, wiped her wet face with the skirt of her
+gown, and then suddenly disappeared into an adjoining room, closing the
+door behind her.
+
+'Do you think she is crazy?' I whispered.
+
+'O no; merely pensive.'
+
+'Nonsense, Ermine! But why did you give her that ribbon?'
+
+'To develop her æsthetic taste,' replied my cousin, finishing her last
+glass, and beginning to draw on her delicate gloves.
+
+Immediately I began gulping down my neglected dose; but so vile was the
+odor that some time was required for the operation, and in the midst of
+my struggles our hostess re-appeared. She had thrown on an old dress of
+plaid delaine, a faded red ribbon was tied over her head, and around her
+sinewed throat reposed the Roman scarf pinned with a glass brooch.
+
+'Really, madam, you honor us,' said Ermine, gravely.
+
+'Thankee, marm. It's so long since I've had on anything but that old
+bag, and so long since I've seen anything but them Dutch girls over to
+the Community, with their wooden shapes and wooden shoes, that it sorter
+come over me all 't onct what a miserable life I've had. You see, I
+ain't what I looked like; now I've dressed up a bit I feel more like
+telling you that I come of good Ohio stock, without a drop of Dutch
+blood. My father, he kep' store in Sandy, and I had everything I wanted
+until I must needs get crazy over Painting Sol at the Community. Father,
+he wouldn't hear to it, and so I ran away; Sol, he turned out good for
+nothing to work, and so here I am, yer see, in spite of all his pictures
+making me out the Queen of Sheby.'
+
+'Is your husband an artist?' I asked.
+
+'No, miss. He's a coal-miner, he is. But he used to like to paint me all
+sorts of ways. Wait, I'll show yer.' Going up the rough stairs that led
+into the attic, the woman came back after a moment with a number of
+sheets of drawing-paper which she hung up along the walls with pins for
+our inspection. They were all portraits of the same face, with brick-red
+cheeks, enormous black eyes, and a profusion of shining black hair
+hanging down over plump white shoulders; the costumes were various, but
+the faces were the same. I gazed in silence, seeing no likeness to
+anything earthly. Erminia took out her glasses and scanned the pictures
+slowly.
+
+'Yourself, madam, I perceive' she said, much to my surprise.
+
+'Yes, 'm, that's me,' replied our hostess, complacently. 'I never was
+like those yellow-haired girls over to the Community. Sol allers said my
+face was real rental.'
+
+'Rental?' I repeated, inquiringly.
+
+'Oriental, of course,' said Ermine. 'Mr.--Mr. Solomon is quite right.
+May I ask the names of these characters, madam?'
+
+'Queen of Sheby, Judy, Ruth, Esthy, Po-co-hon-tus, Goddess-aliberty,
+Sunset, and eight Octobers, them with the grapes. Sunset's the one with
+the red paint behind it like clouds.'
+
+'Truly a remarkable collection,' said Ermine. 'Does Mr. Solomon devote
+much time to his art?'
+
+'No, not now. He couldn't make a cent out of it, so he's took to digging
+coal. He painted all them when we was first married, and he went a
+journey all the way to Cincinnati to sell 'em. First he was going to buy
+me a silk dress and some ear-rings, and, after that, a farm. But pretty
+soon home he come on a canal-boat, without a shilling, and a bringing
+all the pictures back with him! Well, then he tried most everything, but
+he never could keep to any one trade, for he'd just as lief quit work in
+the middle of the forenoon and go to painting; no boss 'll stand that,
+you know. We kep' a going down, and I had to sell the few things my
+father give me when he found I was married whether or no,--my chany, my
+feather-beds, and my nice clothes, piece by piece. I held on to the big
+looking' glass for four years, but at last it had to go, and then I just
+gave up and put on a linsey-woolsey gown. When a girl's spirit's once
+broke, she don't care for nothing, you know; so, when the Community
+offered to take Sol back as coal-digger, I just said, "Go," and we
+come.' Here she tried to smear the tears away with her bony hands, and
+gave a low groan.
+
+'Groaning probably relieves you,' observed Ermine.
+
+'Yes, 'm. It's kinder company like, when I'm all alone. But you see it's
+hard on the prettiest girl in Sandy to have to live in this lone lorn
+place. Why, ladies, you mightn't believe it, but I had open-work
+stockings, and feathers in my winter bunnets before I was married!' And
+the tears broke forth afresh.
+
+'Accept my handkerchief,' said Ermine; 'it will serve your purpose
+better than fingers.'
+
+The woman took the dainty cambric and surveyed it curiously, held at
+arm's length. 'Reg'lar thistle-down, now, ain't it?' she said; 'and
+smells like a locust-tree blossom.'
+
+'Mr Solomon, then, belonged to the Community?' I asked, trying to gather
+up the threads of the story.
+
+'No he didn't either; he's no Dutchman, I reckon, he's a Lake County
+man, born near Painesville, he is.'
+
+'I thought you spoke as though he had been in the Community.'
+
+'So he had; he didn't belong, but he worked for 'em since he was a boy,
+did middling well, in spite of the painting, until one day, when he come
+over to Sandy on a load of wood and seen me standing at the door. That
+was the end of him,' continued the woman, with an air of girlish pride;
+'he couldn't work no more for thinking of me.'
+
+'_Où la vanité va-t-elle se nicher?_' murmured Ermine, rising. 'Come,
+Dora, it is time to return.'
+
+As I hastily finished my last cup of sulphur water, our hostess followed
+Ermine towards the door. 'Will you have your handkercher back, marm?'
+she said, holding it out reluctantly.
+
+'It was a free gift, madam,' replied my cousin; 'I wish you a good
+afternoon.'
+
+'Say, will yer be coming again to-morrow?' asked the woman as I took my
+departure.
+
+'Very likely; good by.'
+
+The door closed, and then, but not till then, the melancholy dog joined
+us and stalked behind until we had crossed the meadow and reached the
+gate. We passed out and turned up the hill; but looking back we saw the
+outline of the woman's head at the upper window, and the dog's head at
+the bars, both watching us out of sight.
+
+In the evening there came a cold wind down from the north, and the
+parlor, with its primitive ventilators, square openings in the side of
+the house, grew chilly. So a great fire of soft coal was built in the
+broad Franklin stove, and before its blaze we made good cheer, nor
+needed the one candle which flickered on the table behind us. Cider
+fresh from the mill, carded ginger-bread, and new cheese crowned the
+scene, and during the evening came a band of singers, the young people
+of the Community, and sang for us the song of the Lorelei, accompanied
+by home-made violins and flageolets. At length we were left alone, the
+candle had burned out, the house door was barred, and the peaceful
+Community was asleep; still we two sat together with our feet upon the
+hearth, looking down into the glowing coals.
+
+    'Ich weisz nicht was soll es bedeuten
+     Dasz ich so traurig bin,'
+
+I said, repeating the opening lines of the Lorelei; 'I feel absolutely
+blue to-night.'
+
+'The memory of the sulphur-woman,' suggested Ermine.
+
+'Sulphur-woman! What a name!'
+
+'Entirely appropriate, in my opinion.'
+
+'Poor thing! How she longed with a great longing for the finery of her
+youth in Sandy.'
+
+'I suppose from those barbarous pictures that she was originally in the
+flesh,' mused Ermine; 'at present she is but a bony outline.'
+
+'Such as she is, however, she has had her romance,' I answered. 'She is
+quite sure that there was one to love her; then let come what may, she
+has had her day.'
+
+'Misquoting Tennyson on such a subject!' said Ermine, with disdain.
+
+'A man's a man for all that and a woman's a woman too,' I retorted. 'You
+are blind, cousin, blinded with pride. That woman has had her tragedy,
+as real and bitter as any that can come to us.'
+
+'What have you to say for the poor man, then!' exclaimed Ermine, rousing
+to the contest. 'If there is a tragedy at the sulphur-house, it belongs
+to the sulphur-man, not to the sulphur-woman.'
+
+'He is not a sulphur-man, he is a coal-man; keep to your bearings,
+Ermine.'
+
+'I tell you,' pursued my cousin, earnestly, 'that I pitied that unknown
+man with inward tears all the while I sat by that trap door. Depend upon
+it, he had his dream, his ideal; and this country girl with her great
+eyes and wealth of hair represented the beautiful to his hungry soul. He
+gave his whole life and hope into her hands, and woke to find his
+goddess a common wooden image.'
+
+'Waste sympathy upon a coal-miner!' I said, imitating my cousin's former
+tone.
+
+'If any one is blind, it is you,' she answered, with gleaming eyes.
+'That man's whole history stood revealed in the selfish complainings of
+that creature. He had been in the Community from boyhood, therefore of
+course he had no chance to learn life, to see its art-treasures. He has
+been shipwrecked, poor soul; hopelessly shipwrecked.'
+
+'She too, Ermine.'
+
+'She!'
+
+'Yes. If he loved pictures, she loved her chany and her feather-beds,
+not to speak of the big looking-glass. No doubt she had other lovers,
+and might have lived in a red brick farmhouse with ten unopened front
+windows and a blistered front door. The wives of men of genius are
+always to be pitied; they do not soar into the crowd of feminine
+admirers who circle round the husband, and they are therefore called
+'grubs,' 'worms of the earth,' 'drudges,' and other sweet titles.'
+
+'Nonsense,' said Ermine, tumbling the arched coals into chaos with the
+poker; 'it's after midnight, let us go up stairs.' I knew very well that
+my beautiful cousin enjoyed the society of several poets, painters,
+musicians, and others of that ilk, without concerning herself about
+their stay-at-home wives.
+
+The next day the winds were out in battle array, howling over the
+Strasburg hill, raging up and down the river, and whirling the colored
+leaves wildly along the lovely road to the One-Leg Creek. Evidently
+there could be no rambling in the painted woods that day, so we went
+over to old Fritz's shop, played on his home-made piano, inspected the
+woolly horse who turned his crank patiently in an underground den, and
+set in motion all the curious little images which the carpenter's deft
+fingers had wrought. Fritz belonged to the Community, and knew nothing
+of the outside world; he had a taste for mechanism, which showed itself
+in many labor-saving devices, and with it all he was the roundest,
+kindest little man, with bright eyes like a canary-bird.
+
+'Do you know Solomon the coal-miner?' asked Ermine, in her correct,
+well-learned German.
+
+'Sol Bangs? Yes, I know him,' replied Fritz in his Würtemburg dialect.
+
+'What kind of a man is he?'
+
+'Good for nothing,' replied Fritz, placidly.
+
+'Why?'
+
+'Wrong here'; tapping his forehead.
+
+'Do you know his wife?' I asked.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What kind of a woman is she?'
+
+'Too much tongue. Women must not talk much.'
+
+'Old Fritz touched us both there,' I said, as we ran back laughing to
+the hotel through the blustering wind. 'In his opinion, I suppose, we
+have the popular verdict of the township upon our two _protégés_, the
+sulphur-woman and her husband.'
+
+The next day opened calm, hazy, and warm, the perfection of Indian
+summer; the breezy hill was outlined in purple, and the trees glowed in
+rich colors. In the afternoon we started for the sulphur-spring without
+shawls or wraps, for the heat was almost oppressive; we loitered on the
+way through the still woods, gathering the tinted leaves, and wondering
+why no poet has yet arisen to celebrate in fit words the glories of the
+American autumn. At last we reached the turn whence the lonely house
+came into view, and at the bars we saw the dog awaiting us.
+
+'Evidently the sulphur-woman does not like that melancholy animal,' I
+said, as we applied our united strength to the gate.
+
+'Did you ever know a woman of limited mind who liked a large dog?'
+replied Ermine. 'Occasionally such a woman will fancy a small cur; but
+to appreciate a large, noble dog requires a large, noble mind.'
+
+'Nonsense with your dogs and minds,' I said, laughing, 'Wonderful! There
+is a curtain.'
+
+It was true. The paper had been removed from one of the windows, and in
+its place hung some white drapery, probably part of a sheet rigged as a
+curtain.
+
+Before we reached the piazza the door opened, and our hostess appeared.
+'Glad to see yer, ladies,' she said. 'Walk right in this way to the
+keeping room.'
+
+The dog went away to his block-house, and we followed the woman into a
+room on the right of the hall; there were three rooms, beside the attic
+above. An Old-World German stove of brick-work occupied a large portion
+of the space, and over it hung a few tins, and a clock whose pendulum
+swung outside; a table, a settle, and some stools completed the
+furniture; but on the plastered walls were two rude brackets, one
+holding a cup and saucer of figured china, and the other surmounted by a
+large bunch of autumn leaves, so beautiful in themselves and so
+exquisitely arranged that we crossed the room to admire them.
+
+'Sol fixed 'em, he did,' said the sulphur-woman; 'he seen me setting
+things to rights, and he would do it. I told him they was trash, but he
+made me promise to leave 'em alone in case you should call again.'
+
+'Madam Bangs, they would adorn a palace,' said Ermine, severely.
+
+'The cup is pretty too,' I observed, seeing the woman's eyes turn that
+way.
+
+'It's the last of my chany' she answered, with pathos in her
+voice,--'the very last piece.'
+
+As we took our places on the settle we noticed the brave attire of our
+hostess. The delaine was there; but how altered! Flounces it had,
+skimped, but still flounces, and at the top was a collar of crochet
+cotton reaching nearly to the shoulders; the hair, too, was braided in
+imitation of Ermine's sunny coronet, and the Roman scarf did duty as a
+belt around the large flat waist.
+
+'You see she tries to improve,' I whispered, as Mrs. Bangs went into the
+hall to get some sulphur-water for us.
+
+'Vanity,' answered Ermine.
+
+We drank our dose slowly, and our hostess talked on and on. Even I, her
+champion, began to weary of her complainings. 'How dark it is!' said
+Ermine at last, rising and drawing aside the curtain. 'See, Dora, a
+storm is close upon us.'
+
+We hurried to the door, but one look at the black cloud was enough to
+convince us that we could not reach the Community hotel before it would
+break, and somewhat drearily we returned to the keeping-room, which grew
+darker and darker, until our hostess was obliged to light a candle.
+'Reckon you'll have to stay all night; I'd like to have you ladies,' she
+said. 'The Community ain't got nothing covered to send after you, except
+the old king's coach, and I misdoubt they won't let that out in such a
+storm, steps and all. When it begins to rain in this valley, it do rain,
+I can tell you; and from the way it's begun, 't won't stop 'fore
+morning. You just let me send the Roarer over to the mine, he'll tell
+Sol; Sol can tell the Community folks, so they'll know where you be.'
+
+I looked somewhat aghast at this proposal, but Ermine listened to the
+rain upon the roof a moment, and then quietly accepted; she remembered
+the long hills of tenacious red clay and her kid boots were dear to her.
+
+'The Roarer, I presume, is some faithful kobold who bears your message
+to and from the mine,' she said, making herself as comfortable as the
+wooden settle would allow.
+
+The sulphur-woman stared. 'Roarer's Sol's old dog,' she answered,
+opening the door; perhaps one of you will write a bit of a note for him
+to carry in his basket,--Roarer, Roarer!'
+
+The melancholy dog came slowly in, and stood still while she tied a
+small covered basket around his neck.
+
+Ermine took a leaf from her tablets and wrote a line or two with the
+gold pencil attached to her watch-chain.
+
+'Well now, you do have everything handy, I do declare,' said the woman,
+admiringly.
+
+I glanced at the paper.
+
+     'MR. SOLOMON BANGS: My cousin Theodora Wentworth and myself have
+     accepted the hospitality of your house for the night. Will you be
+     so good as to send tidings of our safety to the Community, and
+     oblige,
+
+     ERMINIA STUART.'
+
+The Roarer started obediently out into the rain-storm with his little
+basket; he did not run, but walked slowly, as if the storm was nothing
+compared to his settled melancholy.
+
+'What a note to send to a coal-miner!' I said, during a momentary
+absence of our hostess.
+
+'Never fear; it will be appreciated,' replied Ermine.
+
+'What is this king's carriage of which you spoke?' I asked, during the
+next hour's conversation.
+
+'O, when they first come over from Germany, they had a sort of a king;
+he knew more than the rest, and he lived in that big brick house with
+dormel-winders and a cuperler, that stands next the garden. The carriage
+was hisn, and it had steps to let down, and curtains and all; they
+don't use it much now he's dead. They're a queer set anyhow! The women
+look like meal-sacks. After Sol seen me, he couldn't abide to look at
+'em.'
+
+Soon after six we heard the great gate creak.
+
+'That's Sol,' said the woman,' and now of course Roarer'll come in and
+track all over my floor.' The hall door opened and a shadow passed into
+the opposite room, two shadows,--a man and a dog.
+
+'He's going to wash himself now,' continued the wife; 'he's always
+washing himself, just like a horse.'
+
+'New fact in natural history, Dora love,' observed Ermine.
+
+After some moments the miner appeared,--a tall, stooping figure with
+high forehead, large blue eyes, and long thin yellow hair; there was a
+singularly lifeless expression in his face, and a far-off look in his
+eyes. He gazed about the room in an absent way, as though he scarcely
+saw us. Behind him stalked the Roarer, wagging his tail slowly from side
+to side.
+
+'Now, then, dont yer see the ladies, Sol? Where's yer manners?' said his
+wife, sharply.
+
+'Ah,--yes,--good evening,' he said, vaguely. Then his wandering eyes
+fell upon Ermine's beautiful face, and fixed themselves there with
+strange intentness.
+
+'You received my note, Mr. Bangs?' said my cousin in her soft voice.
+
+'Yes, surely. You are Erminia,' replied the man, still standing in the
+centre of the room with fixed eyes. The Roarer laid himself down behind
+his master, and his tail still wagging, sounded upon the floor with a
+regular tap.
+
+'Now then, Sol, since you've come home, perhaps you'll entertain the
+ladies while I get supper,' quoth Mrs. Bangs; and forthwith began a
+clatter of pans.
+
+The man passed his long hand abstractedly over his forehead. 'Eh,' he
+said with long-drawn utterance,--'eh-h? Yes, my rose of Sharon,
+certainly, certainly.'
+
+'Then why don't you do it!' said the woman, lighting the fire in the
+brick stove.
+
+'And what will the ladies please to do?' he answered, his eyes going
+back to Ermine.
+
+'We will look over your pictures, sir,' said my cousin, rising; 'they
+are in the upper room, I believe.'
+
+A great flush rose in the painter's thin cheeks. 'Will you,' he said
+eagerly,--'will you? Come!'
+
+'It's a broken-down old hole, ladies; Sol will never let me sweep it
+out. Reckon you'll be more comfortable here,' said Mrs. Bangs, with her
+arms in the flour.
+
+'No, no, my lily of the valley. The ladies will come with me; they will
+not scorn the poor room.'
+
+'A studio is always interesting,' said Ermine, sweeping up the rough
+stairs behind Solomon's candle. The dog followed us, and laid himself
+down on an old mat, as though well accustomed to the place. 'Eh-h, boy,
+you came bravely through the storm with the lady's note.' said his
+master, beginning to light candle after candle. 'See him laugh!'
+
+'Can a dog laugh?'
+
+'Certainly; look at him now. What is that but a grin of happy
+contentment? Don't the Bible say, "grin like a dog"?'
+
+'You seem much attached to the Roarer.'
+
+'Tuscarora, lady, Tuscarora. Yes, I love him well. He has been with me
+through all, he has watched the making of all my pictures; he always
+lies there when I paint.'
+
+By this time a dozen candles were burning on shelves and brackets, and
+we could see all parts of the attic studio. It was but a poor place,
+unfloored in the corners where the roof slanted down, and having no
+ceiling but the dark beams and thatch; hung upon the walls were the
+pictures we had seen, and many others, all crude and high colored, and
+all representing the same face,--the sulphur-woman in her youth, the
+poor artist's only ideal. He showed us these one by one, handling them
+tenderly, and telling us, in his quaint language, all they symbolized.
+'This is Ruth, and denoteth the power of hope,' he said. 'Behold Judith,
+the queen of revenge. And this dear one is Rachel, for whom Jacob served
+seven years, and they seemed unto him but a day, so well he loved her.'
+The light shone on his pale face, and we noticed the far-off look in his
+eyes, and the long, tapering fingers coming out from the hard-worked
+broad palm. To me it was a melancholy scene, the poor artist with his
+daubs and the dreary attic.
+
+But Ermine seemed eagerly interested; she looked at the staring
+pictures, listened to the explanations, and at last she said gently,
+'Let me show you something of perspective, and the part that shadows
+play in a pictured face. Have you any crayons?'
+
+No; the man had only his coarse paints and lumps of charcoal; taking a
+piece of the coal in her delicate hand, my cousin began to work upon a
+sheet of drawing-paper attached to the rough easel. Solomon watched her
+intently, as she explained and demonstrated some of the rules of
+drawing, the lights and shades, and the manner of representing the
+different features and curves. All his pictures were full faces, flat
+and unshaded; Ermine showed him the power of the profile and the
+three-quarter view. I grew weary of watching them, and pressing my face
+against the little window gazed out into the night; steadily the rain
+came down and the hills shut us in like a well. I thought of our home in
+C----, and its bright lights, warmth, company, and life. Why should we
+come masquerading out among the Ohio hills at this late season? And then
+I remembered that it was because Ermine would come; she liked such
+expeditions, and from childhood I had always followed her lead. '_Dux
+nascitur_, etc., etc.' Turning away from the gloomy night, I looked
+towards the easel again; Solomon's cheeks were deeply flushed, and his
+eyes shone like stars. The lesson went on, the merely mechanical hand
+explaining its art to the ignorant fingers of genius. Ermine had taken
+lessons all her life, but she had never produced an original picture,
+only copies.
+
+At last the lesson was interrupted by a voice from below, 'Sol, Sol,
+supper's ready!' No one stirred until, feeling some sympathy for the
+amount of work which my ears told me had been going on below, I woke up
+the two enthusiasts and took them away from the easel down stairs into
+the keeping-room, where a loaded table and a scarlet hostess bore
+witness to the truth of my surmise. Strange things we ate that night,
+dishes unheard of in towns, but not unpalatable. Ermine had the one
+china cup for her corn-coffee; her grand air always secured her such
+favors. Tuscarora was there and ate of the best, now and then laying his
+shaggy head on the table, and, as his master said, 'smiling at us';
+evidently the evening was his gala time. It was nearly nine when the
+feast was ended, and I immediately proposed retiring to bed, for, having
+but little art enthusiasm, I dreaded a vigil in that dreary attic.
+Solomon looked disappointed, but I ruthlessly carried off Ermine to the
+opposite room, which we afterwards suspected was the apartment of our
+hosts, freshened and set in order in our honor. The sound of the rain on
+the piazza roof lulled us soon to sleep, in spite of the strange
+surroundings; but more than once I woke and wondered where I was,
+suddenly remembering the lonely house in its lonely valley with a shiver
+of discomfort. The next morning we woke at our usual hour, but some time
+after the miner's departure; breakfast was awaiting us in the
+keeping-room, and our hostess said that an ox-team from the Community
+would come for us before nine. She seemed sorry to part with us, and
+refused any remuneration for our stay; but none the less did we promise
+ourselves to send some dresses and even ornaments from C----, to feed
+that poor, starving love of finery. As we rode away in the ox-cart, the
+Roarer looked wistfully after us through the bars; but his melancholy
+mood was upon him again, and he had not the heart even to wag his tail.
+
+As we were sitting in the hotel parlor, in front of our soft-coal fire
+in the evening of the following day, and discussing whether or no we
+should return to the city within the week, the old landlord entered
+without his broad-brimmed hat,--an unusual attention, since he was a
+trustee and a man of note in the Community, and removed his hat for no
+one or nothing; we even suspected that he slept in it.
+
+'You know Zolomon Barngs,' he said, slowly.
+
+'Yes,' we answered.
+
+'Well, he's dead. Kilt in de mine.' And putting on the hat, removed, we
+now saw, in respect for death, he left the room suddenly as he had
+entered it. As it happened, we had been discussing the couple, I, as
+usual, contending for the wife, and Ermine, as usual, advocating the
+cause of the husband.
+
+'Let us go out there immediately to see her, poor woman!' I said,
+rising.
+
+'Yes, poor man, we will go to him!' said Ermine.
+
+'But the man is dead, cousin.'
+
+'Then he shall at least have one kind friendly glance before he is
+carried to his grave,' answered Ermine quietly.
+
+In a short time we set out in the darkness, and dearly did we have to
+pay for the night-ride; no one could understand the motive of our going,
+but money was money, and we could pay for all peculiarities. It was a
+dark night, and the ride seemed endless as the oxen moved slowly on
+through the red-clay mire. At last we reached the turn and saw the
+little lonely house with its upper room brightly lighted.
+
+'He is in the studio,' said Ermine; and so it proved. He was not dead,
+but dying; not maimed but poisoned by the gas of the mine, and rescued
+too late for recovery. They had placed him upon the floor on a couch of
+blankets and the dull-eyed Community doctor stood at his side. 'No good,
+no good,' he said; 'he must die.' And then, hearing of the returning
+cart, he left us, and we could hear the tramp of the oxen over the
+little bridge, on their way back to the village.
+
+The dying man's head lay upon his wife's breast, and her arms supported
+him; she did not speak, but gazed at us with a dumb agony in her large
+eyes. Ermine knelt down and took the lifeless hand streaked with
+coal-dust in both her own. 'Solomon,' she said, in her soft, clear
+voice, 'do you know me?'
+
+The closed eyes opened slowly, and fixed themselves upon her face a
+moment: then they turned towards the window, as if seeking something.
+
+'It's the picter he means,' said the wife. 'He sat up most all last
+night a doing it.'
+
+I lighted all the candles, and Ermine brought forward the easel; upon it
+stood a sketch in charcoal wonderful to behold,--the same face, the face
+of the faded wife, but so noble in its idealized beauty that it might
+have been a portrait of her glorified face in Paradise. It was a
+profile, with the eyes upturned,--a mere outline, but grand in
+conception and expression. I gazed in silent astonishment.
+
+Ermine said, 'Yes, I knew you could do it, Solomon. It is perfect of its
+kind.' The shadow of a smile stole over the pallid face, and then the
+husband's fading gaze turned upward to meet the wild, dark eyes of the
+wife.
+
+'It's you, Dorcas,' he murmured; 'that's how you looked to me, but I
+never could get it right before.' She bent over him, and silently we
+watched the coming of the shadow of death; he spoke only once, 'My rose
+of Sharon--' And then in a moment he was gone, the poor artist was dead.
+
+Wild, wild was the grief of the ungoverned heart left behind; she was
+like a mad-woman, and our united strength was needed to keep her from
+injuring herself in her frenzy. I was frightened, but Ermine's strong
+little hands and lithe arms kept her down until, exhausted, she lay
+motionless near her dead husband. Then we carried her down stairs and I
+watched by the bedside, while my cousin went back to the studio. She was
+absent some time, and then she came back to keep the vigil with me
+through the long, still night. At dawn the woman woke, and her face
+looked aged in the gray light. She was quiet, and took without a word
+the food we had prepared awkwardly enough, in the keeping-room.
+
+'I must go to him, I must go to him.' she murmured, as we led her back.
+
+'Yes,' said Ermine, 'but first let me make you tidy. He loved to see you
+neat.' And with deft, gentle touch she dressed the poor creature,
+arranging the heavy hair so artistically that, for the first time, I saw
+what she might have been, and understood the husband's dream.
+
+'What is that?' I said, as a peculiar sound startled us.
+
+'It's Roarer. He was tied up last night, but I suppose he's gnawed the
+rope,' said the woman. I opened the hall door, and in stalked the great
+dog, smelling his way directly up the stairs.
+
+'O, he must not go!' I exclaimed.
+
+'Yes, let him go, he loved his master,' said Ermine; 'we will go too.'
+So silently we all went up into the chamber of death.
+
+The pictures had been taken down from the walls, but the wonderful
+sketch remained on the easel, which had been moved to the head of the
+couch where Solomon lay. His long, light hair was smooth, his face
+peacefully quiet, and on his breast lay the beautiful bunch of autumn
+leaves which he had arranged in our honor. It was a striking
+picture,--the noble face of the sketch above, and the dead face of the
+artist below. It brought to my mind a design I had once seen, where Fame
+with her laurels came at last to the door of the poor artist and gently
+knocked; but he had died the night before!
+
+The dog lay at his master's feet, nor stirred until Solomon was carried
+out to his grave.
+
+The Community buried the miner in one corner of the lonely little
+meadow. No service had they and no mound was raised to mark the spot,
+for such was their custom; but in the early spring we went down again
+into the valley, and placed a block of granite over the grave. It bore
+the inscription:--
+
+              SOLOMON.
+
+    He will finish his work in heaven.
+
+Strange as it may seem, the wife pined for her artist husband. We found
+her in the Community trying to work, but so aged and bent that we hardly
+knew her. Her large eyes had lost their peevish discontent, and a great
+sadness had taken the place.
+
+'Seems like I couldn't get on without Sol,' she said, sitting with us in
+the hotel parlor after work-hours. 'I kinder miss his voice and all them
+names he used to call me; he got 'em out of the Bible, so they must have
+been good, you know. He always thought everything I did was right, and
+he thought no end of my good looks, too; I suppose I've lost 'em all
+now. He was mighty fond of me; nobody in all the world cares a straw for
+me now. Even Roarer wouldn't stay with me, for all I petted him; he kep'
+a going out to that meader and a lying by Sol, until, one day, we found
+him there dead. He just died of sheer loneliness, I reckon. I sha'n't
+have to stop long I know, because I keep a dreaming of Sol, and he
+always looks at me like he did when I first knew him. He was a beautiful
+boy when I first saw him on that load of wood coming into Sandy. Well,
+ladies, I must go. Thank you kindly for all you've done for me. And say,
+Miss Stuart, when I die you shall have that coal pictur; no one else 'ud
+vally it so much.'
+
+Three months after, while we were at the sea-shore, Ermine received a
+long tin case, directed in a peculiar handwriting; it had been forwarded
+from C----, and contained the sketch and a note from the Community.
+
+     'E. STUART: The woman Dorcas Bangs died this day. She will be put
+     away by the side of her husband, Solomon Bangs. She left the
+     enclosed picture, which we hereby send, and which please
+     acknowledge by return of mail.
+
+     'JACOB BOLL, _Trustee_.'
+
+
+
+I unfolded the wrappings and looked at the sketch; 'It is indeed
+striking,' I said. 'She must have been beautiful once, poor woman!'
+
+'Let us hope that at least she is beautiful now, for her husband's sake
+poor man!' replied Ermine.
+
+Even then we could not give up our preferences.
+
+
+
+
+WILHELMINA.
+
+
+'And so, Mina, you will not marry the baker?'
+
+'No: I waits for Gustav.'
+
+'How long is it since you have seen him?'
+
+'Three year; it was a three-year regi-mènt.'
+
+'Then he will soon be home?'
+
+'I not know' answered the girl, with a wistful look in her dark eyes, as
+if asking information from the superior being who sat in the skiff,--a
+being from the outside world where newspapers, the modern Tree of
+Knowledge, were not forbidden.
+
+'Perhaps he will re-enlist, and stay three years longer,' I said.
+
+'Ah, lady,--six year! It breaks the heart,' answered Wilhelmina.
+
+She was the gardener's daughter, a member of the Community of German
+Separatists who live secluded in one of Ohio's rich valleys, separated
+by their own broad acres and orchard-covered hills from the busy world
+outside; down the valley flows the tranquil Tuscarawas on its way to the
+Muskingum, its slow tide rolling through the fertile bottom-lands
+between stone dikes, and utilized to the utmost extent of carefulness by
+the thrifty brothers, now working a saw-mill on the bank, now sending a
+tributary to the flour-mill across the canal, and now branching off in a
+sparkling race across the valley to turn wheels for two or three
+factories, watering the great grass meadow on the way. We were floating
+on this river in a skiff named by myself Der Fliegende Holländer, much
+to the slow wonder of the Zoarites, who did not understand how a
+Dutchman could, nor why he should, fly. Wilhelmina sat before me, her
+oars trailing in the water. She showed a Nubian head above her white
+kerchief: large-lidded soft brown eyes, heavy braids of dark hair,
+creamy skin with, purple tints in the lips and brown shadows under the
+eyes, and a far off expression which even the steady monotonous toil of
+Community life had not been able to efface. She wore the blue dress and
+white kerchief of the society, the quaint little calico bonnet lying
+beside her; she was a small maiden; her slender form swayed in the
+stiff, short-waisted gown, her feet slipped about in the broad shoes,
+and her hands, roughened and browned with garden-work, were yet narrow
+and graceful. From the first we felt sure she was grafted, and not a
+shoot from the Community stalk. But we could learn nothing of her
+origin; the Zoarites are not communicative; they fill each day with
+twelve good hours of labor, and look neither forward nor back. 'She is a
+daughter,' said the old gardener in answer to our questions. 'Adopted?'
+I suggested; but he vouchsafed no answer. I liked the little daughter's
+dreamy face, but she was pale and undeveloped, like a Southern flower
+growing in Northern soil; the rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired Rosines,
+Salomes, and Dorotys, with their broad shoulders and ponderous tread,
+thought this brown changeling ugly, and pitied her in their slow,
+good-natured way.
+
+'It breaks the heart,' said Wilhelmina again, softly, as if to herself.
+
+I repented me of my thoughtlessness. 'In any case he can come back for a
+few days,' I hastened to say. 'What regiment was it?'
+
+'The One Hundred and Seventh, lady.'
+
+I had a Cleveland paper in my basket, and taking it out I glanced over
+the war-news column, carelessly, as one who does not expect to find what
+he seeks. But chance was with us and gave this item: 'The One Hundred
+and Seventh Regiment, O. V. I., is expected home next week. The men will
+be paid off at Camp Chase.'
+
+'Ah!' said Wilhelmina, catching her breath with a half-sob under her
+tightly drawn kerchief--'ah, mein Gustav!'
+
+'Yes, you will soon see him,' I answered, bending forward to take the
+rough little hand in mine; for I was a romantic wife, and my heart went
+out to all lovers. But the girl did not notice my words or my touch;
+silently she sat, absorbed in her own emotion, her eyes fixed on the
+hilltops far away, as though she saw the regiment marching home through
+the blue June sky.
+
+I took the oars and rowed up as far as the inland, letting the skiff
+float back with the current. Other boats were out, filled with
+fresh-faced boys in their high-crowned hats, long-waisted, wide-flapped
+vests of calico, and funny little swallow-tailed coats with buttons up
+under the shoulder-blades; they appeared unaccountably long in front,
+and short behind, these young Zoar brethren. On the vine-covered dike
+were groups of mothers and grave little children, and up in the
+hill-orchards were moving figures, young and old; the whole village was
+abroad in the lovely afternoon, according to their Sunday custom, which
+gave the morning to chorals and a long sermon in the little church, and
+the afternoon to nature, even old Christian, the pastor, taking his
+imposing white fur hat and tasselled cane for a walk through the
+Community fields, with the remark, 'Thus is cheered the heart of man,
+and his countenance refreshed.'
+
+As the sun sank in the, warm western sky, homeward came the villagers
+from the river, the orchards, and the meadows, men, women and children,
+a hardy, simple-minded band, whose fathers, for religion's sake, had
+taken the long journey from Würtemburg across the ocean to this distant
+valley, and made it a garden of rest in the wilderness. We, too, landed,
+and walked up the apple-tree lane towards the hotel.
+
+'The cows come,' said Wilhelmina as we heard a distant, tinkling; 'I
+must go.' But still she lingered. 'Der regi-mènt, it come soon, you
+say?' she asked in a low voice, as though she wanted to hear the good
+news again and again.
+
+'They will be paid off next week; they cannot be later than ten days
+from now.'
+
+'Ten day? Ah, mein Gustav,' murmured the little maiden; she turned away
+and tied on her stiff bonnet, furtively wiping off a tear with her prim
+handkerchief folded in a square.
+
+'Why, my child,' I said, following her and stooping to look in her face,
+'what is this?'
+
+'It is nothing; it is for glad,--for very glad,' said Wilhelmina. Away
+she ran as the first solemn cow came into view, heading the long
+procession meandering slowly towards the stalls. They knew nothing of
+haste, these dignified Community cows; from stall to pasture, from
+pasture to stall, in a plethora of comfort, this was their life. The
+silver-haired shepherd came last with his staff and scrip, and the
+nervous shepherd-dog ran hither and thither in the hope of finding some
+cow to bark at, but the comfortable cows moved on in orderly ranks, and
+he was obliged to dart off on a tangent every now and then, and bark at
+nothing, to relieve his feelings. Reaching the paved court-yard each cow
+walked into her own stall, and the milking began. All the girls took
+part in this work, sitting on little stools and singing together as the
+milk frothed up in the tin pails; the pails were emptied into tubs, and
+when the tubs were full the girls bore them on their heads to the dairy,
+where the milk was poured into a huge strainer, a constant procession of
+girls with tubs above and the old milk-mother ladling out as fast as she
+could below. With the beehives near by, it was a realization of the
+Scriptural phrase, 'A land flowing with milk and honey.'
+
+The next morning, after breakfast, I strolled up the still street,
+leaving the Wirthshaus with its pointed roof behind me. On the right
+were some ancient cottages built of crossed timbers filled in with
+plaster; sundials hung on the walls, and each house had its piazza,
+where, when the work of the day was over, the families assembled, often
+singing folk-songs to the music of their home-made flutes and pipes. On
+the left stood the residence of the first pastor, the reverend man who
+had led these sheep to their refuge in the wilds of the New World. It
+was a wide-spreading brick mansion, with a broadside of white-curtained
+windows, an enclosed glass porch, iron railings, and gilded eaves; a
+building so stately among the surrounding cottages, it had gained from
+outsiders the name of the King's Palace, although the good man whose
+grave remains unmarked in the quiet God's Acre, according to the
+Separatist custom, was a father to his people, not a king.
+
+Beyond the palace began the Community garden, a large square in the
+centre of the village filled with flowers and fruit adorned with arbors
+and cedar-trees clipped in the form of birds, and enriched with an
+old-style greenhouse whose sliding glasses were viewed with admiration
+by the visitors of thirty years ago, who sent their choice plants
+thither from far and near to be tended through the long, cold
+lake-country winters. The garden, the cedars, and the greenhouse were
+all antiquated, but to me none the less charming. The spring that gushed
+up in one corner, the old-fashioned flowers in their box-bordered beds,
+larkspur, lady slippers, bachelor's buttons, peonies, aromatic pinks,
+and all varieties of roses, the arbors with red honeysuckle overhead and
+tan bark under foot, were all delightful; and I knew, also, that I
+should find the gardener's daughter at her never-ending task of weeding.
+This time it was the strawberry bed. 'I have come to sit in your
+pleasant garden, Mina,' I said, taking a seat on a shaded bench near the
+bending figure.
+
+'So?' said Wilhelmina in long-drawn interrogation, glancing up shyly
+with a smile. She was a child of the sun, this little maiden, and while
+her blond companions wore always their bonnets or broad-brimmed hats
+over their precise caps, Wilhelmina, as now, constantly discarded these
+coverings and sat in the sun basking like a bird of the tropics. In
+truth, it did not redden her; she was one of those whose coloring comes
+not from without, but within.
+
+'Do you like this work, Mina?'
+
+'O--so. Good as any.'
+
+'Do you like work?'
+
+'Folks must work.' This was, said gravely, as part of the Community
+creed.
+
+'Wouldn't you like to go with me to the city?'
+
+'No; I's better here.'
+
+'But you can see the great world, Mina. You need not work, I will take
+care of you. You shall have pretty dresses; wouldn't you like that?' I
+asked, curious to discover the secret of the Separatist indifference to
+everything outside.
+
+'Nein,' answered the little maiden, tranquilly; 'nein, fräulein. Ich bin
+zufrieden.'
+
+Those three words were the key. 'I am contented.' So were they taught
+from childhood, and--I was about to say--they knew no better; but, after
+all, is there anything better to know?
+
+We talked on, for Mina understood English, although many of her mates
+could chatter only in their Würtemberg dialect, whose provincialisms
+confused my carefully learned German; I was grounded in Goethe, well
+read in Schiller, and struggling with Jean Paul, who, fortunately, is
+'der Einzige,' the only; another such would destroy life. At length a
+bell sounded, and forthwith work was laid aside in the fields, the
+workshops, and the houses, while all partook of a light repast, one of
+the five meals with which the long summer day of toil is broken. Flagons
+of beer had the men afield, with bread and cheese; the women took bread
+and apple-butter. But Mina did not care for the thick slice which the
+thrifty house-mother had provided; she had not the steady unfanciful
+appetite of the Community which eats the same food day after day, as the
+cow eats its grass, desiring no change.
+
+'And the gardener really wishes you to marry Jacob?' I said as she sat
+on the grass near me, enjoying the rest.
+
+'Yes, Jacob is good,--always the same.'
+
+'And Gustav?'
+
+'Ah, mein Gustav! Lady, _he_ is young, tall,--so tall as tree; he run,
+he sing, his eyes like veilchen there, his hair like gold. If I see him
+not soon, lady, I die! The year so long,--so long they are. Three year
+without Gustav!' The brown eyes grew dim, and out came the square-folded
+handkerchief, of colored calico for week-days.
+
+'But it will not be long now, Mina.'
+
+'Yes; I hope.'
+
+'He writes to you, I suppose?'
+
+'No. Gustav knows not to write, he not like school. But he speak through
+the other boys, Ernst the verliebte of Rosine, and Peter of Doroty.'
+
+'The Zoar soldiers were all young men?'
+
+'Yes; all verliebte. Some are not; they have gone to the Next Country'
+(died).
+
+'Killed in Battle?'
+
+'Yes; on the berge that looks,--what you call I not know.'
+
+'Lookout Mountain?'
+
+'Yes'
+
+'Were the boys volunteers?' I asked, remembering the Community theory of
+non-resistance.
+
+'O yes; they volunteer, Gustav the first. _They_ not drafted,' said
+Wilhelmina, proudly. For these two words so prominent during the war,
+had penetrated even into this quiet little valley.
+
+'But did the trustees approve?'
+
+'Apperouve?'
+
+'I mean did they like it?'
+
+'Ah! they like it not. They talk, they preach in church, they say 'No.'
+Zoar must give soldiers? So. Then they take money and pay for der
+substitute; but the boys they must not go.'
+
+'But they went in spite of the trustees?'
+
+'Yes; Gustav first. They go in night, they walk in woods, over the hills
+to Brownville, where is der recruiter. The morning come, they gone!'
+
+'They have been away three years, you say? They have seen the world in
+that time,' I remarked half to myself, as I thought of the strange
+mind-opening and knowledge-gaining of those years to youths brought up
+in the strict seclusion of the Community.
+
+'Yes; Gustav have seen the wide world,' answered Wilhelmina with pride.
+
+'But will they be content to step back into the dull routine of Zoar
+life?' I thought; and a doubt came that made me scan more closely the
+face of the girl at my side. To me it was attractive because of its
+possibilities; I was always fancying some excitement that would bring
+the color to the cheeks and full lips, and light up the heavy-lidded
+eyes with soft brilliancy. But would this Gustav see these might-be
+beauties? And how far would the singularly ugly costume offend eyes
+grown accustomed to fanciful finery and gay colors?
+
+'You fully expect to marry Gustav?' I asked.
+
+'We are verlobt,' answered Mina, not without a little air of dignity.
+
+'Yes, I know. But that was long ago.'
+
+'Verlobt once, verlobt always,' said the little maiden, confidently.
+
+'But why, then, does the gardener speak of Jacob, if you are engaged to
+this Gustav?'
+
+'O, fader he like the old, and Jacob is old, thirty year! His wife is
+gone to the Next Country. Jacob is a brother, too; he write his name in
+the book. But Gustav he not do so; he is free.'
+
+'You mean that the baker has signed the articles, and is a member of the
+Community?'
+
+'Yes; but the baker is old, very old; thirty year! Gustav not twenty and
+three yet; he come home, then he sign.'
+
+'And have you signed these articles, Wilhelmina?'
+
+'Yes; all the womens signs.'
+
+'What does the paper say?'
+
+'Da ich Unterzeichneter,'--began the girl.
+
+'I cannot understand that. Tell me in English.'
+
+'Well; you wants to join the Zoar Community of Separatists; you writes
+your name and says, "Give me house, victual, and clothes for my work and
+I join; and I never fernerer Forderung an besagte Gesellschaft machen
+kann, oder will."'
+
+'Will never make further demand upon said society,' I repeated,
+translating slowly.
+
+'Yes; that is it.'
+
+'But who takes charge of all the money?'
+
+'The trustees.'
+
+'Don't they give you any?'
+
+'No; for what? It's no good,' answered Wilhelmina.
+
+I knew that all the necessaries of life were dealt out to the members of
+the Community according to their need, and, as they never went outside
+of their valley, they could scarcely have spent money even if they had
+possessed it. But, nevertheless, it was startling in this nineteenth
+century to come upon a sincere belief in the worthlessness of the
+green-tinted paper we cherish so fondly. 'Gustav will have learned its
+value,' I thought, as Mina, having finished the strawberry-bed, started
+away towards the dairy to assist in the butter-making.
+
+I strolled on up the little hill, past the picturesque bakery, where
+through the open window I caught a glimpse of the 'old, very old Jacob,'
+a serious young man of thirty, drawing out his large loaves of bread
+from the brick oven with a long-handled rake. It was gingerbread-day
+also, and a spicy odor met me at the window; so I put in my head and
+asked for a piece, receiving a card about a foot square, laid on fresh
+grape-leaves.
+
+'But I cannot eat all this,' I said, breaking off a corner.
+
+'O, dat's noding!' answered Jacob, beginning to knead fresh dough in a
+long white trough, the village supply for the next day.
+
+'I have been sitting with Wilhelmina,' I remarked, as I leaned on the
+casement, impelled by a desire to see the effect of the name.
+
+'So?' said Jacob, interrogatively.
+
+'Yes; she is a sweet girl.'
+
+'So?' (doubtfully.)
+
+'Dont you think so, Jacob?'
+
+'Ye-es. So-so. A leetle black,' answered this impassive lover.
+
+'But you wish to marry her?'
+
+'O, ye-es. She young and strong; her fader say she good to work. I have
+children five; I must have some one in the house.'
+
+'O Jacob! Is that the way to talk?' I exclaimed.
+
+'Warum nicht?' replied the baker, pausing in his kneading, and regarding
+me with wide-open, candid eyes.
+
+'Why not, indeed?' I thought, as I turned away from the window. 'He is
+at least honest, and no doubt in his way he would be a kind husband to
+little Mina. But what a way.'
+
+I walked on up the street, passing the pleasant house where all the
+infirm old women of the Community were lodged together, carefully tended
+by appointed nurses. The aged sisters were out on the piazza sunning
+themselves, like so many old cats. They were bent with hard, out-door
+labor for they belonged to the early days when the wild forest covered
+the fields now so rich, and only a few log-cabins stood on the site of
+the tidy cottages and gardens of the present village. Some of them had
+taken the long journey on foot from Philadelphia westward, four hundred
+and fifty miles, in the depths of winter. Well might they rest from
+their labors and sit in the sunshine, poor old souls!
+
+A few days later, my friendly newspaper mentioned the arrival of the
+German regiment at Camp Chase. 'They will probably be paid off in a day
+or two,' I thought, 'and another day may bring them here.' Eager to be
+the first to tell the good news to my little favorite, I hastened to the
+garden, and found her engaged, as usual, in weeding.
+
+'Mina,' I said, 'I have something to tell you. The regiment is at Camp
+Chase; you will see Gustav soon, perhaps this week.'
+
+And there, before my eyes, the transformation I had often fancied took
+place; the color rushed to the brown surface, the cheeks and lips glowed
+in vivid red, and the heavy eyes opened wide and shone like stars, with
+a brilliancy that astonished and even disturbed me. The statue had a
+soul at last; the beauty dormant had awakened. But for the fire of that
+soul would this expected Pygmalion suffice? Would the real prince fill
+his place in the long-cherished dreams of this beauty of the wood?
+
+The girl had risen as I spoke, and now she stood erect, trembling with
+excitement, her hands clasped on her breast, breathing quickly and
+heavily as though an overweight of joy was pressing down on her heart;
+her eyes were fixed upon my face, but she saw me not. Strange was her
+gaze, like the gaze of one walking in sleep. Her sloping shoulders
+seemed to expand and chafe against the stuff gown as though they would
+burst their bonds; the blood glowed in her face and throat, and her lips
+quivered, not as though tears were coming, but from the fulness of
+unuttered speech. Her emotion resembled the intensest fire of fever, and
+yet it seemed natural; like noon in the tropics when the gorgeous
+flowers flame in the white, shadowless heat. Thus stood Wilhelmina,
+looking up into the sky with eyes that challenged the sun.
+
+'Come here, child,' I said; 'come here and sit by me. We will talk about
+it.'
+
+But she neither saw nor heard me. I drew her down on the bench at my
+side; she yielded unconsciously; her slender form throbbed, and pulses
+were beating under my hands wherever I touched her. 'Mina!' I said
+again. But she did not answer. Like an unfolding rose, she revealed her
+hidden, beautiful heart, as though a spirit had breathed upon the bud;
+silenced in the presence of this great love, I ceased speaking, and left
+her to herself. After a time single words fell from her lips, broken
+utterances of happiness. I was as nothing; she was absorbed in the One.
+'Gustav! mein Gustav!' It was like the bird's note, oft repeated, ever
+the same. So isolated, so intense was her joy, that, as often happens,
+my mind took refuge in the opposite extreme of commonplace, and I found
+myself wondering whether she would be able to eat boiled beef and
+cabbage for dinner, or fill the soft-soap barrel for the laundry-women,
+later in the day.
+
+All the morning I sat under the trees with Wilhelmina, who had forgotten
+her life-long tasks as completely as though they had never existed. I
+hated to leave her to the leather-colored wife of the old gardener, and
+lingered until the sharp voice came from the distant house-door,
+calling, 'Veel-hel-meeny,' as the twelve-o'clock bell summoned the
+Community to dinner. But as Mina rose and swept back the heavy braid
+that had fallen from the little ivory stick which confined them, I saw
+that she was armed _cap-à-pie_ in that full happiness from which all
+weapons glance off harmless.
+
+All the rest of the day she was like a thing possessed. I followed her
+to the hill-pasture, whither she had gone to mind the cows, and found
+her coiled up on the grass in the blaze of the afternoon sun, like a
+little salamander. She was lost in day dreams, and the decorous cows had
+a holiday for once in their sober lives, wandering beyond bounds at
+will, and even tasting the dissipations of the marsh, standing unheeded
+in the bog up to their sleek knees. Wilhelmina had not many words to
+give me; her English vocabulary was limited; she had never read a line
+of romance nor a verse of poetry. The nearest approach to either was the
+Community hymn-book, containing the Separatist hymns, of which the
+following lines are a specimen,
+
+    "Ruhe ist das beste Gut
+     Dasz man haben kann,"--
+
+    "Rest is the best good
+     That man can have,"--
+
+and which embody the religious doctrine of the Zoar Brethren, although
+they think, apparently, that the labor of twelve hours each day is
+necessary to its enjoyment. The 'Ruhe,' however, refers more especially
+to their quiet seclusion away from the turmoil of the wicked world
+outside.
+
+The second morning after this it was evident that an unusual excitement
+was abroad in the phlegmatic village. All the daily duties were
+fulfilled as usual at the Wirthshaus: Pauline went up to the bakery with
+her board, and returned with her load of bread and bretzels balanced on
+her head; Jacobina served our coffee with slow precision; and the
+broad-shouldered, young-faced Lydia patted and puffed up our
+mountain-high feather-beds with due care. The men went afield at the
+blast of the horn, the workshops were full and the mills running. But,
+nevertheless, all was not the same; the air seemed full of mystery;
+there were whisperings when two met, furtive signals, and an inward
+excitement glowing in the faces of men, women, and children, hitherto
+placid as their own sheep. 'They have heard the news,' I said, after
+watching the tailor's Gretchen and the blacksmith's Barbara stop to
+exchange a whisper behind the wood-house. Later in the day we learned
+that several letters from the absent soldier-boys had been received that
+morning, announcing their arrival on the evening train. The news had
+flown from one end of the village to the other; and although the
+well-drilled hands were all at work, hearts were stirring with the
+greatest excitement of a lifetime, since there was hardly a house where
+there was not one expected. Each large house often held a number of
+families, stowed away in little sets of chambers, with one dining-room
+in common.
+
+Several times during the day we saw the three trustees conferring apart
+with anxious faces. The war had been a sore trouble to them, owing to
+their conscientious scruples against rendering military service. They
+had hoped to remain non-combatants. But the country was on fire with
+patriotism, and nothing less than a _bona fide_ Separatist in United
+States uniform would quiet the surrounding towns, long jealous of the
+wealth of this foreign community, misunderstanding its tenets, and
+glowing with that zeal against 'sympathizers' which kept star-spangled
+banners flying over every suspected house. 'Hang out the flag!' was
+their cry, and they demanded that Zoar should hang out its soldiers,
+giving them to understand that if not voluntarily hung out, they would
+soon be involuntarily hung up! A draft was ordered, and then the young
+men of the society, who had long chafed against their bonds, broke
+loose, volunteered, and marched away, principles or no principles,
+trustees or no trustees. These bold hearts once gone, the village sank
+into quietude again. Their letters, however, were a source of anxiety,
+coming as they did from the vain outside world; and the old postmaster,
+autocrat though he was, hardly dared to suppress them. But he said,
+shaking his head, that they 'had fallen upon troublous times,' and
+handed each dangerous envelope out with a groan. But the soldiers were
+not skilled penmen; their letters, few and far between, at length
+stopped entirely. Time passed, and the very existence of the runaways
+had become a far-off problem to the wise men of the Community, absorbed
+in their slow calculations and cautious agriculture, when now, suddenly,
+it forced itself upon them face to face, and they were required to solve
+it in the twinkling of an eye. The bold hearts were coming back, full of
+knowledge of the outside world, almost every house would hold one, and
+the bands of law and order would be broken. Before this prospect the
+trustees quailed. Twenty years before they would have forbidden the
+entrance of these unruly sons within their borders; but now they dared
+not, since even into Zoar had penetrated the knowledge that America was
+a free country. The younger generation were not as their fathers were;
+objections had been openly made to the cut of the Sunday coats, and the
+girls had spoken together of ribbons!
+
+The shadows of twilight seemed very long in falling that night, but at
+last there was no further excuse for delaying the evening bell, and home
+came the laborers to their evening meal. There was no moon, a soft mist
+obscured the stars, and the night was darkened with the excess of
+richness which rose from the ripening valley-fields and fat bottom-lands
+along the river. The Community store opposite the Wirthshaus was closed
+early in the evening, the houses of the trustees were dark, and indeed
+the village was almost unlighted, as if to hide its own excitement. The
+entire population was abroad in the night, and one by one the men and
+boys stole away down the station road, a lovely, winding track on the
+hillside, following the river on its way down the valley to the little
+station on the grass-grown railroad, a branch from the main track. As
+ten o'clock came, the women and girls, grown bold with excitement,
+gathered in the open space in front of the Wirthshaus, where the lights
+from the windows illumined their faces. There I saw the broad-shouldered
+Lydia, Rosine, Doroty, and all the rest, in their Sunday clothes,
+flushed, laughing, and chattering; but no Wilhelmina.
+
+'Where can she be?' I said.
+
+If she was there, the larger girls concealed her with their buxom
+breadth; I looked for the slender little maiden in vain.
+
+'Shu!' cried the girls, 'de bugle!'
+
+Far down the station road we heard the bugle and saw the glimmering of
+lights among the trees. On it came, a will-o' the-wisp procession, first
+a detachment of village boys each with a lantern or torch, next the
+returned soldiers winding their bugles,--for, German-like, they all had
+musical instruments,--then an excited crowd of brothers and cousins
+loaded with knapsacks, guns, and military accoutrements of all kinds;
+each man had something, were it only a tin cup, and proudly they
+marched in the footsteps of their glorious relatives, bearing the spoils
+of war. The girls set up a shrill cry of welcome as the procession
+approached, but the ranks continued unbroken until the open space in
+front of the Wirthshaus was reached; then, at a signal, the soldiers
+gave three cheers, the villagers joining in with all their hearts and
+lungs, but wildly and out of time, like the scattering fire of an
+awkward squad. The sound had never been heard in Zoar before. The
+soldiers gave a final 'Tiger-r-r!' and then broke ranks, mingling with
+the excited crowd, exchanging greetings and embraces. All talked at
+once; some wept, some laughed; and through it all silently stood the
+three trustees on the dark porch in front of the store, looking down
+upon their wild flock, their sober faces visible in the glare of the
+torches and lanterns below. The entire population was present; even the
+babies were held up on the outskirts of the crowd, stolid and staring.
+
+'Where can Wilhelmina be?' I said again.
+
+'Here, under the window; I saw her long ago,' replied one of the women.
+
+Leaning against a piazza-pillar, close under my eyes, stood the little
+maiden, pale and still. I could not disguise from myself that she looked
+almost ugly among those florid, laughing girls, for her color was gone,
+and her eyes so fixed that they looked unnaturally large; her somewhat
+heavy Egyptian features stood out in the bright light, but her small
+form was lost among the group of broad, white-kerchiefed shoulders,
+adorned with breast-knots of gay flowers. And had Wilhelmina no flower?
+She, so fond of blossoms? I looked again; yes, a little white rose,
+drooping and pale as herself.
+
+But where was Gustav? The soldiers came and went in the crowd, and all
+spoke to Mina; but where was the One? I caught the landlord's little son
+as he passed, and asked the question.
+
+'Gustav! Dat's him,' he answered, pointing out a tall, rollicking
+soldier who seemed to be embracing the whole population in his gleeful
+welcome. That very soldier had passed Mina a dozen times, flinging a gay
+greeting to her each time; but nothing more.
+
+After half an hour of general rejoicing, the crowd dispersed, each
+household bearing off in triumph the hero that fell to its lot. Then the
+tiled domiciles, where usually all were asleep an hour after twilight,
+blazed forth with unaccustomed light from every little window; within we
+could see the circles, with flagons of beer and various dainties
+manufactured in secret during the day, sitting and talking together in a
+manner which, for Zoar, was a wild revel, since it was nearly eleven
+o'clock! We were not the only outside spectators of this unwonted
+gayety; several times we met the trustees stealing along in the shadow
+from house to house, like anxious spectres in broad-brimmed hats. No
+doubt they said to each other, 'How, how will this end!'
+
+The merry Gustav had gone off by Mina's side, which gave me some
+comfort; but when in our rounds we came to the gardener's house and
+gazed through the open door, the little maiden sat apart, and the
+soldier, in the centre of an admiring circle, was telling stories of the
+war.
+
+I felt a foreboding of sorrow as I gazed out through the little window
+before climbing up into my high bed. Lights still twinkled in some of
+the houses, but a white mist was rising from the river, and the drowsy
+long-drawn chant of the summer night invited me to dreamless sleep.
+
+The next morning I could not resist questioning Jacobina, who also had
+her lover among the soldiers, if all was well.
+
+'O yes. They stay,--all but two. We's married next mont.'
+
+'And the two?'
+
+'Karl and Gustav.'
+
+'And Wilhelmina!' I exclaimed.
+
+'O she let him go,' answered Jacobina, bringing fresh coffee.
+
+'Poor child! How does she bear it?'
+
+'O so. She cannot help. She say noding.'
+
+'But the trustees, will they allow these young men to leave the
+Community?'
+
+'They cannot help,' said Jacobina. 'Gustav and Karl write not in the
+book; they free to go. Wilhelmina marry Jacob; it's joost the same; all
+r-r-ight,' added Jacobina, who prided herself upon her English, caught
+from visitors at the Wirthshaus table.
+
+'Ah! but it is not just the same,' I thought as I walked up to the
+garden to find my little maiden. She was not there; the leathery mother
+said she was out on the hills with the cows.
+
+'So Gustav is going to leave the Community,' I said in German.
+
+'Yes, better so. He is an idle, wild boy. Now Veelhelmeeny can marry the
+baker, a good steady man.'
+
+'But Mina does not like him,' I suggested.
+
+'Das macht nichts,' answered the leathery mother.
+
+Wilhelmina was not in the pasture; I sought for her everywhere, and
+called her name. The poor child had hidden herself, and whether she
+heard me or not she did not respond. All day she kept herself aloof; I
+almost feared she would never return; but in the late twilight a little
+figure slipped through the garden-gate and took refuge in the house
+before I could speak; for I was watching for the child, apparently the
+only one, though a stranger, to care for her sorrow.
+
+'Can I not see her?' I said to the leathery mother, following to the
+door.
+
+'Eh, no; she's foolish; she will not speak a word; she has gone off to
+bed,' was the answer.
+
+For three days I did not see Mina, so early did she flee away to the
+hills and so late return. I followed her to the pasture once or twice,
+but she would not show herself, and I could not discover her hiding
+place. The fourth day I learned that Gustav and Karl were to leave the
+village in the afternoon, probably forever. The other soldiers had
+signed the articles presented by the anxious trustees, and settled down
+into the old routine, going afield with the rest, although still heroes
+of the hour; they were all to be married in August. No doubt the
+hardships of their campaigns among the Tennessee mountains had taught
+them that the rich valley was a home not to be despised; nevertheless,
+it was evident that the flowers of the flock were those who were about
+departing, and that in Gustav and Karl the Community lost its brightest
+spirits. Evident to us; but possibly, the Community cared not for bright
+spirits.
+
+I had made several attempts to speak to Gustav; this morning I at last
+succeeded. I found him polishing his bugle on the garden bench.
+
+'Why are you going away, Gustav?' I asked. 'Zoar is a pleasant little
+village.'
+
+'Too slow for me, miss.'
+
+'The life is easy, however; you will find the world a hard place.'
+
+'I don't mind work, ma'am, but I do like to be free. I feel all cramped
+up here, with these rules and bells; and, besides, I couldn't stand
+those trustees; they never let a fellow alone.'
+
+'And Wilhelmina? If you do go, I hope you will take her with you or come
+for her when you have found work.'
+
+'Oh no, miss. All that was long ago. It's all over now.'
+
+'But you like her, Gustav.'
+
+'O so. She's a good little thing, but too quiet for me.'
+
+'But she likes you,' I said desperately, for I saw no other way to
+loosen this Gordian knot.
+
+'O no, miss. She got used to it, and has thought of it all these years;
+that's all. She'll forget about it and marry the baker.'
+
+'But she does not like the baker.'
+
+'Why not? He's a good fellow enough. She'll like him in time. It's all
+the same. I declare it's too bad to see all these girls going on in the
+same old way, in their ugly gowns and big shoes! Why, ma'am, I could'nt,
+take Mina outside, even if I wanted to; she's too old to learn new ways,
+and everybody would laugh at her. She could'nt get along a day.
+Besides,' said the young soldier, coloring up to his eyes, 'I don't mind
+telling you that--that there's some one else. Look here, ma'am.'
+
+And he put into my hand a card photograph representing a pretty girl,
+over dressed, and adorned with curls and gilt jewelery. 'That's Miss
+Martin,' said Gustav with pride; 'Miss Emmeline Martin, of Cincinnati.
+I'm going to marry Miss Martin.'
+
+As I held the pretty, flashy picture in my hand, all my castles fell to
+the ground. My plan for taking Mina home with me, accustoming her
+gradually to other clothes and ways, teaching her enough of the world to
+enable her to hold her place without pain, my hope that my husband might
+find a situation for Gustav in some of the iron-mills near Cleveland, in
+short, all the idyl I had woven, was destroyed. If it had not been for
+this red-cheeked Miss Martin in her gilt beads! 'Why is it that men will
+be such fools?' I thought. Up sprung a memory of the curls and ponderous
+jet necklace I sported at a certain period of my existence, when
+John--I was silenced, gave Gustav his picture, and walked away without a
+word.
+
+At noon the villagers, on their way back to work, paused at the
+Wirthshaus to say good bye; Karl and Gustav were there, and the old
+woolly horse had already gone to the station with their boxes. Among the
+others came Christine, Karl's former affianced, heartwhole and smiling,
+already betrothed to a new lover; but no Wilhelmina. Good wishes and
+farewells were exchanged, and at last the two soldiers started away,
+falling into the marching step and watched with furtive satisfaction by
+the three trustees, who stood together in the shadow of the smithy
+apparently deeply absorbed in a broken-down cask.
+
+It was a lovely afternoon, and I, too, strolled down the station road
+embowered in shade. The two soldiers were not far in advance. I had
+passed the flour-mill on the outskirts of the village and was
+approaching the old quarry, when a sound startled me; out of the rocks
+in front rushed a little figure and crying 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' fell
+at the soldier's feet. It was Wilhelmina.
+
+I ran forward and took her from the young men; she lay in my arms as if
+dead. The poor child was sadly changed; always slender and swaying, she
+now looked thin and shrunken, her skin had a strange, dark pallor, and
+her lips were drawn in as if from pain. I could see her eyes through the
+large-orbed thin lids, and the brown shadows beneath extended down into
+the cheeks.
+
+'Was ist's?' said Gustav, looking bewildered. 'Is she sick?'
+
+I answered 'Yes,' but nothing more. I could see that he had no suspicion
+of the truth, believing as he did that the 'good fellow' of a baker
+would do very well for this 'good little thing' who was 'too quiet' for
+him. The memory of Miss Martin sealed my lips. But if it had not been
+for that pretty, flashy picture, would I not have spoken!
+
+'You must go; you will miss the train,' I said after a few minutes. 'I
+will see to Mina.'
+
+But Gustav lingered. Perhaps he was really troubled to see the little
+sweetheart of his boyhood in such desolate plight; perhaps a touch of
+the old feeling came back; and perhaps also it was nothing of the kind,
+and, as usual, my romantic thoughts were carrying me away. At any rate,
+whatever it was, he stooped over the fainting girl.
+
+'She looks bad,' he said, 'very bad. I wish-- But she'll get well and
+marry the baker. Good bye, Mina.' And bending his tall form, he kissed
+her colorless cheek, and then hastened away to join the impatient Karl;
+a curve in the road soon hid them from view.
+
+Wilhelmina had stirred at his touch; after a moment her large eyes
+opened slowly; she looked around as if dazed, but all at once memory
+came back and she started up with the same cry, 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' I
+drew her head down on my shoulder to stifle the sound; it was better the
+soldier should not hear it, and its anguish thrilled my own heart also.
+She had not the strength to resist me, and in a few minutes I knew that
+the young men were out of hearing as they strode on towards the station
+and out into the wide world.
+
+The forest was solitary, we were beyond the village; all the afternoon I
+sat under the trees with the stricken girl. Again, as in her joy her
+words were few; again as in her joy her whole being was involved. Her
+little rough hands were cold, a film had gathered over her eyes; she did
+not weep, but moaned to herself, and all her senses seemed blunted. At
+nightfall I took her home, and the leathery mother received her with a
+frown; but the child was beyond caring, and crept away, dumbly, to her
+room.
+
+The next morning she was off to the hills again, nor could I find her
+for several days. Evidently in spite of my sympathy I was no more to her
+than I should have been to a wounded fawn. She was a mixture of the
+wild, shy creature of the woods and the deep-loving woman of the
+tropics; in either case I could be but small comfort. When at last I did
+see her, she was apathetic and dull; her feelings, her senses, and her
+intelligence seemed to have gone within, as if preying upon her heart.
+She scarcely listened to my proposal to take her with me; for in my pity
+I had suggested it, in spite of its difficulties.
+
+'No,' she said, mechanically, 'I'se better here'; and fell into silence
+again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A month later a friend went down to spend a few days in the valley, and
+upon her return described to us the weddings of the whilom soldiers. 'It
+was really a pretty sight,' she said, 'the quaint peasant dresses and
+the flowers. Afterwards, the band went round the village playing their
+odd tunes, and all had a holiday. There were two civilians married also;
+I mean two young men who had not been to the war. It seems that two of
+the soldiers turned their backs upon the Community and their allotted
+brides, and marched away; but the Zoar maidens are not romantic, I
+fancy, for these two deserted ones were betrothed again, and married,
+all in the short space of four weeks.'
+
+'Was not one Wilhelmina, the gardener's daughter, a short, dark girl?' I
+asked.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And she married Jacob the baker?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next year, weary of the cold lake-winds, we left the icy shore and
+went down to the valley to meet the coming spring, finding her already
+there, decked with vines and flowers. A new waitress brought us our
+coffee.
+
+'How is Wilhelmina?' I asked.
+
+'Eh,--Wilhelmina? O, she not here now; she gone to the Next Country,'
+answered the girl in a matter-of-fact way. 'She die last October, and
+Jacob he have anoder wife now.'
+
+In the late afternoon I asked a little girl to show me Wilhelmina's
+grave in the quiet God's Acre on the hill. Innovation was creeping in,
+even here; the later graves had mounds raised over them, and one had a
+little head-board with an inscription in ink.
+
+Wilhelmina lay apart, and some one, probably the old gardener, who had
+loved her in his silent way, had planted a rose-bush at the head of the
+mound. I dismissed my guide and sat there in the sunset, thinking of
+many things, but chiefly of this: 'Why should this great wealth of love
+have been allowed to waste itself? Why is it that the greatest of power,
+unquestionably, of this mortal life should so often seem a useless
+gift?'
+
+No answer came from the sunset clouds, and as twilight sank down on the
+earth I rose to go. 'I fully believe,' I said, as though repeating a
+creed, 'that this poor, loving heart, whose earthly body lies under this
+mound, is happy in its own loving way. It has not been changed, but the
+happiness it longed for has come. How we know not; but the God who made
+Wilhelmina understands her. He has given unto her not rest, not peace,
+but an active, living joy.'
+
+I walked away through the wild meadow, under whose turf, unmarked by
+stone or mound, lay the first pioneers of the Community and out into the
+forest road, untravelled save when the dead passed over it to their last
+earthly home. The evening was still and breathless, and the shadows lay
+thick on the grass as I looked back. But I could still distinguish the
+little mound with the rose-bush at its head, and, not without tears, I
+said, 'Farewell, poor Wilhelmina; farewell.'
+
+
+
+
+ST. CLAIR FLATS
+
+
+In September, 1855, I first saw the St. Clair Flats. Owing to Raymond's
+determination, we stopped there.
+
+'Why go on?' he asked. 'Why cross another long, rough lake, when here is
+all we want?'
+
+'But no one ever stops here,' I said.
+
+'So much the better; we shall have it all to ourselves.'
+
+'But we must at least have a roof over our heads.'
+
+'I presume we can find one.'
+
+The captain of the steamer, however, knew of no roof save that covering
+a little lighthouse set on spiles, which the boat would pass within the
+half hour; we decided to get off there, and throw ourselves upon the
+charity of the lighthouse-man. In the meantime, we sat on the bow with
+Captain Kidd, our four-legged companion, who had often accompanied us on
+hunt-expeditions, but never so far westward. It had been rough on Lake
+Erie,--very rough. We, who had sailed the ocean with composure, found
+ourselves most inhumanly tossed on the short chopping waves of this
+fresh water sea; we, who alone of all the cabin-list had eaten our four
+courses every day on the ocean-steamer, found ourselves here reduced to
+the depressing diet of a herring and pilot-bread. Captain Kidd, too, had
+suffered dumbly; even now he could not find comfort, but tried every
+plank in the deck, one after the other, circling round and round after
+his tail dog-fashion, before lying down, and no sooner down than up
+again, for another choice of planks, another circling, and another
+failure. We were sailing across a small lake whose smooth waters were
+like clear green oil; as we drew near the outlet, the low, green shores
+curved inward and came together, and the steamer entered a narrow, green
+river.
+
+'Here we are,' said Raymond. 'Now we can soon land.'
+
+'But there isn't any land,' I answered.
+
+'What is that, then?' asked my near-sighted companion, pointing toward
+what seemed a shore.
+
+'Reeds.'
+
+'And what do they run back to?'
+
+'Nothing.'
+
+'But there must be solid ground beyond?'
+
+'Nothing but reeds, flags, lily-pads, grass, and water, as far as I can
+see.'
+
+'A marsh?'
+
+'Yes, a marsh.'
+
+The word 'marsh' does not bring up a beautiful picture to the mind, and
+yet the reality was as beautiful as anything I have ever seen,--an
+enchanted land, whose memory haunts me as an idea unwritten, a melody
+unsung, a picture unpainted, haunts the artist, and will not away. On
+each side and in front, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the low
+green land which was yet no land, intersected by hundreds of channels,
+narrow and broad, whose waters were green as their shores. In and out,
+now running into each other for a moment, now setting off each for
+himself again, these many channels flowed along with a rippling current;
+zigzag as they were, they never seemed to loiter, but, as if knowing
+just where they were going and what they had to do, they found time to
+take their own pleasant roundabout way, visiting the secluded households
+of their friends the flags, who, poor souls, must always stay at home.
+These currents were as clear as crystal, and green as the water-grasses
+that fringed their miniature shores. The bristling reeds, like companies
+of free-lances, rode boldly out here and there into the deeps, trying to
+conquer more territory for the grasses, but the currents were hard to
+conquer; they dismounted the free-lances, and flowed over their
+submerged heads; they beat them down with assaulting ripples; they broke
+their backs so effectually that the bravest had no spirit left, but
+trailed along, limp and bedraggled. And, if by chance the lances
+succeeded in stretching their forces across from one little shore to
+another, then the unconquered currents forced their way between the
+closely serried ranks of the enemy, and flowed on as gayly as ever,
+leaving the grasses sitting hopeless on the bank; for they needed solid
+ground for their delicate feet, these graceful ladies in green.
+
+You might call it a marsh; but there was no mud, no dark slimy water, no
+stagnant scum; there were no rank yellow lilies, no gormandizing frogs,
+no swinish mud-turtles. The clear waters of the channels ran over golden
+sands, and hurtled among the stiff reeds so swiftly that only in a bay,
+or where protected by a crescent point, could the fair white lilies
+float in the quiet their serene beauty requires. The flags, who
+brandished their swords proudly, were martinets down to their very
+heels, keeping themselves as clean under the water as above, and
+harboring not a speck of mud on their bright green uniforms. For
+inhabitants, there were small fish roving about here and there in the
+clear tide, keeping an eye out for the herons, who, watery as to legs,
+but venerable and wise of aspect, stood on promontories musing,
+apparently, on the secrets of the ages.
+
+The steamer's route was a constant curve; through the larger channels of
+the archipelago she wound, as if following the clew of a labyrinth. By
+turns she headed toward all the points of the compass, finding a channel
+where, to our uninitiated eyes, there was no channel, doubling upon her
+own track, going broadside foremost, floundering and backing, like a
+whale caught in a shallow. Here, landlocked, she would choose what
+seemed the narrowest channel of all, and dash recklessly through, with
+the reeds almost brushing her sides; there she crept gingerly along a
+broad expanse of water, her paddle-wheels scarcely revolving, in the
+excess of her caution. Saplings, with their heads of foliage on, and
+branches adorned with fluttering rags, served as finger-posts to show
+the way through the watery defiles, and there were many other
+hieroglyphics legible only to the pilot. 'This time, surely, we shall
+run ashore,' we thought again and again, as the steamer glided, head-on,
+toward an islet; but at the last there was always a quick turn into some
+unseen strait opening like a secret passage in a castle-wall, and we
+found ourselves in a new lakelet, heading in the opposite direction.
+Once we met another steamer, and the two great hulls floated slowly past
+each other, with engines motionless, so near that the passengers could
+have shaken hands with each other had they been so disposed. Not that
+they were so disposed, however; far from it. They gathered on their
+respective decks and gazed at each other gravely; not a smile was seen,
+not a word spoken, not the shadow of a salutation given. It was not
+pride, it was not suspicion; it was the universal listlessness of the
+travelling American bereft of his business, Othello with his occupation
+gone. What can such a man do on a steamer? Generally, nothing. Certainly
+he would never think of any such light-hearted nonsense as a smile or
+passing bow.
+
+But the ships were, _par excellence_, the bewitched craft, the Flying
+Dutchmen of the Flats. A brig, with lofty, sky-scraping sails, bound
+south, came into view of our steamer, bound north, and passed, we
+hugging the shore to give her room: five minutes afterward the
+sky-scraping sails we had left behind veered around in front of us
+again; another five minutes, and there they were far distant on the
+right; another, and there they were again close by us on the left. For
+half an hour those sails circled around us, and yet all the time we were
+pushing steadily forward; this seemed witching work indeed. Again, the
+numerous schooners thought nothing of sailing over-land; we saw them on
+all sides gliding before the wind, or beating up against it over the
+windows as easily as over the water; sailing on grass was a mere trifle
+to these spirit-barks. All this we saw, as I said before, apparently.
+But in that adverb is hidden the magic of the St. Clair Flats.
+
+'It is beautiful,--beautiful,' I said, looking off over the vivid green
+expanse.
+
+'Beautiful?' echoed the captain, who had himself taken charge of the
+steering when the steamer entered the labyrinth,--'I don't see anything
+beautiful in it!--Port your helm up there; port!'
+
+'Port it is, sir,' came back from the pilot-house above.
+
+'These Flats give us more trouble than any other spot on the lakes;
+vessels are all the time getting aground and blocking up the way, which
+is narrow enough at best. There's some talk of Uncle Sam's cutting a
+canal right through,--a straight canal; but he's so slow, Uncle Sam is,
+and I'm afraid I'll be off the waters before the job is done.'
+
+'A straight canal!' I repeated, thinking with dismay of an ugly
+utilitarian ditch invading this beautiful winding waste of green.
+
+'Yes, you can see for yourself what a saving it would be,' replied the
+captain. 'We could run right through in no time, day or night; whereas,
+now, we have to turn and twist and watch every inch of the whole
+everlasting marsh.' Such was the captain's opinion. But we, albeit
+neither romantic nor artistic, were captivated with his 'everlasting
+marsh,' and eager to penetrate far within its green fastnesses.
+
+'I suppose there are other families living about here, besides the
+family at the lighthouse?' I said.
+
+'Never heard of any; they'd have to live on a raft if they did.'
+
+'But there must be some solid ground.'
+
+'Don't believe it; it's nothing but one great sponge for miles.--Steady
+up there; steady!'
+
+'Very well,' said Raymond, 'so be it. If there is only the lighthouse,
+at the lighthouse we'll get off, and take our chances.'
+
+'You're surveyors, I suppose?' said the captain.
+
+Surveyors are the pioneers of the lake-country, understood by the people
+to be a set of harmless monomaniacs, given to building little
+observatories along-shore, where there is nothing to observe; mild
+madmen, whose vagaries and instruments are equally singular. As
+surveyors, therefore, the captain saw nothing surprising in our
+determination to get off at the lighthouse; if we had proposed going
+ashore on a plank in the middle of Lake Huron, he would have made no
+objection.
+
+At length the lighthouse came into view, a little fortress perched on
+spiles, with a ladder for entrance; as usual in small houses, much time
+seemed devoted to washing, for a large crane, swung to and fro by a
+rope, extended out over the water, covered with fluttering garments hung
+out to dry. The steamer lay to, our row-boat was launched, our traps
+handed out, Captain Kidd took his place in the bow, and we pushed off
+into the shallows; then the great paddle-wheels revolved again, and the
+steamer sailed away, leaving us astern, rocking on her waves, and
+watched listlessly by the passengers until a turn hid us from their
+view. In the mean time numerous flaxen-haired children had appeared at
+the little windows of the lighthouse,--too many of them, indeed, for our
+hopes of comfort.
+
+'Ten,' said Raymond, counting heads.
+
+The ten, moved by curiosity as we approached, hung out of the windows so
+far that they held on merely by their ankles.
+
+'We cannot possibly save them all,' I remarked, looking up at the
+dangling gazers.
+
+'O, they're amphibious,' said Raymond; 'web-footed, I presume.'
+
+We rowed up under the fortress, and demanded parley with the keeper in
+the following language:--
+
+'Is your father here?'
+
+'No; but ma is,' answered the chorus.--'Ma! ma!'
+
+Ma appeared, a portly female, who held converse with us from the top of
+the ladder. The sum and substance of the dialogue was that she had not a
+corner to give us, and recommended us to find Liakim, and have him show
+us the way to Waiting Samuel's.
+
+'Waiting Samuel's?' we repeated.
+
+'Yes; he's a kind of crazy man living away over there in the Flats. But
+there's no harm in him, and his wife is a tidy housekeeper. You be
+surveyors, I suppose?'
+
+We accepted the imputation in order to avoid a broadside of questions,
+and asked the whereabouts of Liakim.
+
+'O, he's round the point, somewhere there, fishing!'
+
+We rowed on and found him, a little, round-shouldered man, in an old
+flat-bottomed boat, who had not taken a fish, and looked as though he
+never would. We explained our errand.
+
+'Did Rosabel Lee tell ye to come to me?' he asked.
+
+'The woman in the lighthouse told us,' I said.
+
+'That's Rosabel Lee, that's my wife; I'm Liakim Lee,' said the little
+man, gathering together his forlorn old rods and tackle, and pulling up
+his anchor.
+
+    "In the kingdom down by the sea
+     Lived the beautiful Annabel Lee,"
+
+I quoted, _sotto voce_.
+
+'And what very remarkable feet had she!' added Raymond, improvising
+under the inspiration of certain shoes, scow-like in shape, gigantic in
+length and breadth, which had made themselves visible at the top round
+of the ladder.
+
+At length the shabby old boat got under way, and we followed in its
+path, turning off to the right through a network of channels, now
+pulling ourselves along by the reeds, now paddling over a raft of
+lily-pads, now poling through a winding labyrinth, and now rowing with
+broad sweeps across the little lake. The sun was sinking, and the
+western sky grew bright at his coming; there was not a cloud to make
+mountain-peaks on the horizon, nothing but the level earth below meeting
+the curved sky above, so evenly and clearly that it seemed as though we
+could go out there and touch it with our hands. Soon we lost sight of
+the little lighthouse; then one by one the distant sails sank down and
+disappeared, and we were left alone on the grassy sea, rowing toward the
+sunset.
+
+'We must have come a mile or two, and there is no sign of a house,' I
+called out to our guide.
+
+'Well, I don't pretend to know how far it is, exactly,' replied Liakim;
+'we don't know how far anything is here in the Flats, we don't.'
+
+'But are you sure you know the way?'
+
+'O my, yes! We've got most to the boy. There it is!'
+
+The 'boy' was a buoy, a fragment of plank painted white, part of the
+cabin-work of some wrecked steamer.
+
+'Now, then,' said Liakim, pausing, 'you jest go straight on in this here
+channel till you come to the ninth run from this boy, on the right; take
+that, and it will lead you right up to Waiting Samuel's door.'
+
+'Aren't you coming with us?'
+
+'Well, no. In the first place, Rosabel Lee will be waiting supper for
+me, and she don't like to wait; and, besides, Samuel can't abide to see
+none of us round his part of the Flats.'
+
+'But--' I began.
+
+'Let him go,' interposed Raymond; 'we can find the house without
+trouble.' And he tossed a silver dollar to the little man, who was
+already turning his boat.
+
+'Thank you,' said Liakim. 'Be sure you take the ninth run and no
+other,--the ninth run from this boy. If you make any mistake, you'll
+find yourselves miles away.'
+
+With this cheerful statement, he began to row back. I did not altogether
+fancy being left on the watery waste without a guide; the name, too, of
+our mythic host did not bring up a certainty of supper and beds.
+'Waiting Samuel,' I repeated, doubtfully. 'What is he waiting for?' I
+called back over my shoulder; for Raymond was rowing.
+
+'The judgment-day!' answered Liakim, in a shrill key. The boats were now
+far apart; another turn, and we were alone.
+
+We glided on, counting the runs on the right: some were wide, promising
+rivers; others wee little rivulets; the eighth was far away; and, when
+we had passed it, we could hardly decide whether we had reached the
+ninth or not, so small was the opening, so choked with weeds, showing
+scarcely a gleam of water beyond when we stood up to inspect it.
+
+'It is certainly the ninth, and I vote that we try it. It will do as
+well as another, and I for one, am in no hurry to arrive anywhere,' said
+Raymond, pushing the boat in among the reeds.
+
+'Do you want to lose yourself in this wilderness?' I asked, making a
+flag of my handkerchief to mark the spot where we had left the main
+stream.
+
+'I think we are lost already,' was the calm reply. I began to fear we
+were.
+
+For some distance the 'run,' as Liakim called it, continued choked with
+aquatic vegetation, which acted like so many devil-fish catching our
+oars; at length it widened and gradually gave us a clear channel, albeit
+so winding and erratic that the glow of the sunset, our only beacon,
+seemed to be executing a waltz all round the horizon. At length we saw a
+dark spot on the left, and distinguished the outline of a low house.
+'There it is,' I said, plying my oars with renewed strength. But the run
+turned short off in the opposite direction, and the house disappeared.
+After some time it rose again, this time on our right, but once more the
+run turned its back and shot off on a tangent. The sun had gone, and the
+rapid twilight of September was falling around us; the air, however, was
+singularly clear, and, as there was absolutely nothing to make a shadow,
+the darkness came on evenly over the level green. I was growing anxious,
+when a third time the house appeared, but the wilful run passed by it,
+although so near that we could distinguish its open windows and door,
+'Why not get out and wade across?' I suggested.
+
+'According to Liakim, it is the duty of this run to take us to the very
+door of Waiting Samuel's mansion, and it shall take us,' said Raymond,
+rowing on. It did.
+
+Doubling upon itself in the most unexpected manner, it brought us back
+to a little island, where the tall grass had given way to a
+vegetable-garden. We landed, secured our boat, and walked up the pathway
+toward the house. In the dusk it seemed to be a low, square structure,
+built of planks covered with plaster; the roof was flat, the windows
+unusually broad, the door stood open,--but no one appeared. We knocked.
+A voice from within called out, 'Who are you, and what do you want with
+Waiting Samuel?'
+
+'Pilgrims, asking for food and shelter,' replied Raymond.
+
+'Do you know the ways of righteousness?'
+
+'We can learn them.'
+
+'We can learn them,' I echoed.
+
+'Will you conform to the rules of this household without murmuring?'
+
+'We will.'
+
+'Enter then and peace be with you!' said the voice drawing nearer. We
+stepped cautiously through the dark passage into a room, whose open
+windows let in sufficient twilight to show us a shadowy figure. 'Seat
+yourselves,' it said. We found a bench, and sat down.
+
+'What seek ye here?' continued the shadow.
+
+'Rest!' replied Raymond.
+
+'Hunting and fishing!' I added.
+
+'Ye will find more than rest,' said the voice, ignoring me altogether (I
+am often ignored in this way),--'more than rest, if ye stay long enough,
+and learn of the hidden treasures. Are you willing to seek for them?'
+
+'Certainly!' said Raymond. 'Where shall we dig?'
+
+'I speak not of earthly digging, young man. Will you give me the charge
+of your souls?'
+
+'Certainly, if you will also take charge of our bodies.'
+
+'Supper, for instance,' I said, again coming to the front; 'and beds.'
+
+The shadow groaned; then it called out wearily, 'Roxana!'
+
+'Yes, Samuel,' replied an answering voice, and a second shadow became
+dimly visible on the threshold. 'The woman will attend to your earthly
+concerns,' said Waiting Samuel.--'Roxana, take them hence.' The second
+shadow came forward, and, without a word, took our hands and led us
+along the dark passage like two children, warning us now of a step, now
+of a turn, then of two steps, and finally opening a door and ushering us
+into a fire-lighted room. Peat was burning upon the wide hearth, and a
+singing kettle hung above it on a crane; the red glow shone on a rough
+table, chairs cushioned in bright calico, a loud ticking clock, a few
+gayly flowered plates and cups on a shelf, shining tins against the
+plastered wall, and a cat dozing on a bit of carpet in one corner. The
+cheery domestic scene, coming after the wide, dusky Flats, the silence,
+the darkness, and the mystical words of the shadowy Samuel, seemed so
+real and pleasant that my heart grew light within me.
+
+'What a bright fire!' I said. 'This is your domain, I suppose,
+Mrs.--Mrs.--'
+
+'I am not Mrs.; I am called Roxana,' replied the woman, busying herself
+at the hearth.
+
+'Ah, you are then the sister of Waiting Samuel, I presume?'
+
+'No, I am his wife, fast enough; we were married by the minister twenty
+years ago. But that was before Samuel had seen any visions.'
+
+'Does he see visions?'
+
+'Yes, almost every day.'
+
+'Do you see them, also?'
+
+'O no; I'm not like Samuel. He has great gifts, Samuel has! The visions
+told us to come here; we used to live away down in Maine.'
+
+'Indeed! That was a long journey!'
+
+'Yes! And we didn't come straight either. We'd get to one place and
+stop, and I'd think we were going to stay, and just get things
+comfortable, when Samuel would see another vision, and we'd have to
+start on. We wandered in that way two or three years, but at last we got
+here, and something in the Flats seemed to suit the spirits, and they
+let us stay.'
+
+At this moment, through the half-open door, came a voice.
+
+'An evil beast is in this house. Let him depart.'
+
+'Do you mean me?' said Raymond, who had made himself comfortable in a
+rocking-chair.
+
+'Nay; I refer to the four-legged beast,' continued the voice. 'Come
+forth, Apollyon!'
+
+Poor Captain Kidd seemed to feel that he was the person in question, for
+he hastened under the table with drooping tail and mortified aspect.
+
+'Roxana, send forth the beast,' said the voice.
+
+The woman put down her dishes and went toward the table; but I
+interposed.
+
+'If he must go, I will take him,' I said, rising.
+
+'Yes; he must go,' replied Roxana, holding open the door. So I ordered
+out the unwilling Captain, and led him into the passageway.
+
+'Out of the house, out of the house,' said Waiting Samuel. 'His feet may
+not rest upon this sacred ground. I must take him hence in the boat.'
+
+'But where?'
+
+'Across the channel there is an islet large enough for him; he shall
+have food and shelter, but here he cannot abide,' said the man, leading
+the way down to the boat.
+
+The Captain was therefore ferried across, a tent was made for him out of
+some old mats, food was provided, and, lest he should swim back, he was
+tethered by a long rope, which allowed him to prowl around his domain
+and take his choice of three runs for drinking-water. With all these
+advantages, the ungrateful animal persisted in howling dismally as we
+rowed away. It was company he wanted, and not a 'dear little isle of his
+own'; but then, he was not by nature poetical.
+
+'You do not like dogs?' I said, as we reached our strand again.
+
+'St. Paul wrote, 'Beware of dogs,' replied Samuel.
+
+'But did he mean--'
+
+'I argue not with unbelievers; his meaning is clear to me, let that
+suffice,' said my strange host, turning away and leaving me to find my
+way back alone. A delicious repast was awaiting me. Years have gone by,
+the world and all its delicacies have been unrolled before me, but the
+memory of the meals I ate in that little kitchen in the Flats haunts me
+still. That night it was only fish, potatoes, biscuit, butter, stewed
+fruit, and coffee; but the fish was fresh, and done to the turn of a
+perfect broil, not burn; the potatoes were fried to a rare crisp, yet
+tender perfection, not chippy brittleness; the biscuits were light,
+flaked creamily, and brown on the bottom; the butter freshly churned,
+without salt; the fruit, great pears, with their cores extracted,
+standing whole on their dish, ready to melt, but not melted; and the
+coffee clear and strong, with yellow cream and the old-fashioned,
+unadulterated loaf-sugar. We ate. That does not express it; we devoured.
+Roxana waited on us, and warmed up into something like excitement under
+our praises.
+
+'I _do_ like good cooking,' she confessed. 'It's about all I have left
+of my old life. I go over to the mainland for supplies, and in the
+winter I try all kinds of new things to pass away the time. But Samuel
+is a poor eater, he is; and so there isn't much comfort in it. I'm
+mighty glad you've come, and I hope you'll stay as long as you find it
+pleasant.' This we promised to do, as we finished the potatoes and
+attacked the great jellied pears. 'There's one thing, though,' continued
+Roxana; 'you'll have to come to our service on the roof at sunrise.'
+
+'What service?' I asked.
+
+'The invocation. Dawn is a holy time, Samuel says, and we always wait
+for it; 'before the morning watch,' you know,--it says so in the Bible.
+Why, my name means 'the dawn,' Samuel says; that's the reason he gave it
+to me. My real name, down in Maine, was Maria,--Maria Ann.'
+
+'But I may not wake in time,' I said.
+
+'Samuel will call you.'
+
+'And if, in spite of that, I should sleep over?'
+
+'You would not do that; it would vex him,' replied Roxana calmly.
+
+'Do you believe in these visions, madam?' asked Raymond, as we left the
+table, and seated ourselves in front of the dying fire.
+
+'Yes,' said Roxana; emphasis was unnecessary, of course she believed.
+
+'Almost every day there is a spiritual presence, but it does not always
+speak. They come and hold long conversations in the winter, when there
+is nothing else to do; that I think is very kind of them, for in the
+summer Samuel can fish and his time is more occupied. There were
+fisherman in the Bible, you know; it is a holy calling.'
+
+'Does Samuel ever go over to the mainland?'
+
+'No, he never leaves the Flats. I do all the business; take over the
+fish, and buy the supplies. I bought all our cattle,' said Roxana, with
+pride. 'I poled them away over here on a raft, one by one, when they
+were little things.'
+
+'Where do you pasture them?'
+
+'Here on the island; there are only a few acres, to be sure; but I can
+cut boat-loads of the best feed within a stone's throw. If we only had a
+little more solid ground! But this island is almost the only solid piece
+in the Flats.'
+
+'Your butter is certainly delicious.'
+
+'Yes, I do my best. It is sold to the steamers and vessels as fast as I
+make it.'
+
+'You keep yourself busy, I see.'
+
+'O, I like to work; I could'nt get on without it.'
+
+'And Samuel?'
+
+'He is not like me,' replied Roxana. 'He has great gifts, Samuel has. I
+often think how strange it is that I should be the wife of such a holy
+man! He is very kind to me, too; he tells me about the visions, and all
+the other things.'
+
+'What things?' said Raymond.
+
+'The spirits, and the sacred influence of the sun; the fiery triangle,
+and the thousand years of joy. The great day is coming, you know; Samuel
+is waiting for it.'
+
+'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace, and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety,'
+chanted a voice in the hall; the tone was deep and not without melody,
+and the words singularly impressive in that still, remote place.
+
+'Go,' said Roxana, instantly pushing aside her half-washed dishes.
+'Samuel will take you to your room.'
+
+'Do you leave your work unfinished?' I said, with some curiosity,
+noticing that she had folded her hands without even hanging up her
+towels.
+
+'We do nothing after the evening chant,' she said. 'Pray go; he is
+waiting.'
+
+'Can we have candles?'
+
+'Waiting Samuel allows no false lights in his house; as imitations of
+the glorious sun, they are abominable to him. Go, I beg.'
+
+She opened the door, and we went into the passage; it was entirely dark,
+but the man led us across to our room, showed us the position of our
+beds by sense of feeling, and left us without a word. After he had gone,
+we struck matches, one by one, and, with the aid of their uncertain
+light, managed to get into our respective mounds in safety; they were
+shake-downs on the floor, made of fragrant hay instead of straw, covered
+with beautifully clean white sheets and patchwork coverlids, and
+provided with large, luxurious pillows. O pillow! Has any one sung thy
+praises? When tired or sick, when discouraged or sad, what gives so much
+comfort as a pillow? Not your curled hair brickbats; not your stiff,
+fluted, rasping covers, or limp cotton cases; but a good, generous, soft
+pillow, deftly cased in smooth, cool, untrimmed linen! There's a friend
+for you, a friend who changes not, a friend who soothes all your
+troubles with a soft caress, a mesmeric touch of balmy forgetfulness.
+
+I slept a dreamless sleep. Then I heard a voice borne toward me as if
+coming from far over a sea, the waves bringing it nearer and nearer.
+
+'Awake!' it cried; 'awake! The night is far spent; the day is at hand.
+Awake!'
+
+I wondered vaguely over this voice as to what manner of voice it might
+be, but it came again, and again, and finally I awoke to find it at my
+side. The gray light of dawn came through the open windows, and Raymond
+was already up, engaged with a tub of water and crash towels. Again the
+chant sounded in my ears.
+
+'Very well, very well,' I said, testily. 'But if you sing before
+breakfast you'll cry before night, Waiting Samuel.'
+
+Our host had disappeared, however, without hearing my flippant speech,
+and slowly I rose from my fragrant couch; the room was empty save for
+our two mounds, two tubs of water, and a number of towels hanging on
+nails. 'Not overcrowded with furniture,' I remarked.
+
+'From Maine to Florida, from Massachusetts to Missouri, have I
+travelled, and never before found water enough,' said Raymond. 'If
+waiting for the judgment day raises such liberal ideas of tubs and
+towels, I would that all the hotel-keepers in the land could be convened
+here to take a lesson.'
+
+Our green hunting-clothes were soon donned, and we went out into the
+hall; a flight of broad steps led up to the roof; Roxana appeared at the
+top and beckoned us thither. We ascended, and found ourselves on the
+flat roof. Samuel stood with his face toward the east and his arms
+outstretched, watching the horizon; behind was Roxana, with her hands
+clasped on her breast and her head bowed: thus they waited. The eastern
+sky was bright with golden light; rays shot upward toward the zenith,
+where the rose-lights of dawn were retreating down to the west, which
+still lay in the shadow of night; there was not a sound; the Flats
+stretched out dusky and still. Two or three minutes passed, and then a
+dazzling rim appeared above the horizon, and the first gleam of sunshine
+was shed over the level earth; simultaneously the two began a chant,
+simple as a Gregorian, but rendered in correct full tones. The words,
+apparently, had been collected from the Bible:--
+
+    "The heavens declare the glory of God--
+                   Joy cometh in the morning!
+     In them is laid out the path of the sun--
+                   Joy cometh in the morning!
+     As a bride groom goeth he forth;
+     As a strong man runneth his race,
+     The outgoings of the morning
+                   Praise thee, O Lord!
+     Like a pelican in the wilderness,
+     Like a sparrow upon the house top,
+                   I wait for the Lord.
+     It is good that we hope and wait,
+                   Wait--wait.
+
+The chant over, the two stood a moment silently, as if in contemplation,
+and then descended, passing us without a word or sign, with their hands
+clasped before them as though forming part of an unseen procession.
+Raymond and I were left alone upon the house-top.
+
+'After all, it is not such a bad opening for a day; and there is the
+pelican of the wilderness to emphasize it,' I said, as a heron flew up
+from the water, and, slowly flapping his great wings, sailed across to
+another channel. As the sun rose higher, the birds began to sing; first
+a single note here and there, then a little trilling solo, and finally
+an outpouring of melody on all sides,--land-birds and water-birds, birds
+that lived in the Flats, and birds that had flown thither for
+breakfast,--the whole waste was awake and rejoicing in the sunshine.
+
+'What a wild place it is!' said Raymond. 'How boundless it looks! One
+hill in the distance, one dark line of forest, even one tree, would
+break its charm. I have seen the ocean, I have seen the prairies, I have
+seen the great desert, but this is like a mixture of the three. It is an
+ocean full of land,--a prairie full of water,--a desert full of
+verdure.'
+
+'Whatever it is, we shall find in it fishing and aquatic hunting to our
+hearts' content,' I answered.
+
+And we did. After a breakfast delicious as the supper, we took our boat
+and a lunch-basket, and set out. 'But how shall we ever find our way
+back?' I said, pausing as I recalled the network of runs, and the
+will-o'-the-wisp aspect of the house, the previous evening.
+
+'There is no other way but to take a large ball of cord with you, fasten
+one end on shore, and let it run out over the stern of the boat,' said
+Roxana. 'Let it run out loosely, and it will float on the water. When
+you want to come back you can turn around and wind it in as you come.
+_I_ can read the Flats like a book, but they're very blinding to most
+people; and you might keep going round in a circle. You will do better
+not to go far, anyway. I'll wind the bugle on the roof an hour before
+sunset; you can start back when you hear it; for it's awkward getting
+supper after dark.' With this musical promise we took the clew of twine
+which Roxana rigged for us in the stern of our boat, and started away,
+first releasing Captain Kidd, who was pacing his islet in sullen
+majesty, like another Napoleon on St. Helena. We took a new channel and
+passed behind the house, where the imported cattle were feeding in their
+little pasture; but the winding stream soon bore us away, the house sank
+out of sight, and we were left alone.
+
+We had fine sport that morning among the ducks,--wood, teal, and
+canvas-back,--shooting from behind our screens woven of rushes; later in
+the day we took to fishing. The sun shone down, but there was a cool
+September breeze, and the freshness of the verdure was like early
+spring. At noon we took our lunch and a _siesta_ among the water-lilies.
+When we awoke we found that a bittern had taken up his position near by,
+and was surveying us gravely:--
+
+    "'The moping bittern, motionless and stiff,
+      That on a stone so silently and stilly
+      Stands, an apparent sentinel, as if
+                    To guard the water-lily,'"
+
+quoted Raymond. The solemn bird, in his dark uniform, seemed quite
+undisturbed by our presence; yellow-throats and swamp-sparrows also came
+in numbers to have a look at us; and the fish swam up to the surface and
+eyed us curiously. Lying at ease in the boat, we in our turn looked down
+into the water. There is a singular fascination in looking down into a
+clear stream as the boat floats above; the mosses and twining
+water-plants seem to have arbors and grottoes in their recesses, where
+delicate marine creatures might live, naiads and mermaids of miniature
+size; at least we are always looking for them. There is a fancy, too,
+that one may find something,--a ring dropped from fair fingers idly
+trailing in the water; a book which the fishes have read thoroughly; a
+scarf caught among the lilies; a spoon with unknown initials; a drenched
+ribbon, or an embroidered handkerchief. None of these things did we
+find, but we did discover an old brass breastpin, whose probable glass
+stone was gone. It was a paltry trinket at best, but I fished it out
+with superstitious care,--a treasure-trove of the Flats. '"Drowned,"' I
+said, pathetically, '"drowned in her white robes--"'
+
+'And brass breastpin,' added Raymond, who objected to sentiment, true or
+false.
+
+'You Philistine! Is nothing sacred to you?'
+
+'Not brass jewelry, certainly.'
+
+'Take some lilies and consider them,' I said, plucking several of the
+queenly blossoms floating along-side.
+
+    "Cleopatra art thou, regal blossom,
+       Floating in thy galley down the Nile,--
+     All my soul does homage to thy splendor,
+       All my heart grows warmer in thy smile;
+     Yet thou smilest for thine own grand pleasure,
+       Caring not for all the world beside,
+     As in insolence of perfect beauty,
+       Sailest thou in silence down the tide.
+
+     "Loving, humble river all pursue thee,
+       Wafted are their kisses at thy feet;
+     Fiery sun himself cannot subdue thee,
+       Calm thou smilest through his raging heat;
+     Naught to thee the earth's great crowd of blossoms,
+       Naught to thee the rose-queen on her throne;
+     Haughty empress of the summer waters,
+       Livest thou, and diest, all alone."
+
+This from Raymond.
+
+'Where did you find that?' I asked.
+
+'It is my own.'
+
+'Of course! I might have known it. There is a certain rawness of style
+and versification which--'
+
+'That's right,' interrupted Raymond; 'I know just what you are going to
+say. The whole matter of opinion is a game of 'follow-my-leader'; not
+one of you dares admire anything unless the critics say so. If I had
+told you the verses were by somebody instead of a nobody, you would have
+found wonderful beauties in them.'
+
+'Exactly. My motto is, 'Never read anything unless it is by a somebody.'
+For, don't you see, that a nobody, if he is worth anything, will grow
+into a somebody, and, if he isn't worth anything you will have saved
+your time!'
+
+'But it is not merely a question of growing,' said Raymond; 'it is a
+question of critics.'
+
+'No; there you are mistaken. All the critics in the world can neither
+make nor crush a true poet.'
+
+'What is poetry?' said Raymond, gloomily.
+
+At this comprehensive question, the bittern gave a hollow croak, and
+flew away with his long legs trailing behind him. Probably he was not of
+an æsthetic turn of mind, and dreaded lest I should give a ramified
+answer.
+
+Through the afternoon we fished when the fancy struck us, but most of
+the time we floated idly, enjoying the wild freedom of the watery waste.
+We watched the infinite varieties of the grasses, feathery,
+lance-leaved, tufted, drooping, banner-like, the deer's tongue, the
+wild-celery, and the so-called wild-rice, besides many unknown beauties
+delicately fringed, as difficult to catch and hold as thistle-down.
+There were plants journeying to and fro on the water like nomadic tribes
+of the desert; there were fleets of green leaves floating down the
+current; and now and then we saw a wonderful flower with scarlet bells
+but could never approach near enough to touch it.
+
+At length, the distant sound of the bugle came to us on the breeze, and
+I slowly wound in the clew, directing Raymond as he pushed the boat
+along, backing water with the oars. The sound seemed to come from every
+direction. There was nothing for it to echo against, but, in place of
+the echo, we heard a long, dying cadence, which sounded on over the
+Flats fainter and fainter in a sweet, slender note, until a new tone
+broke forth. The music floated around us, now on one side, now on the
+other; if it had been our only guide, we should have been completely
+bewildered. But I wound the cord steadily; and at last suddenly, there
+before us, appeared the house with Roxana on the roof, her figure
+outlined against the sky. Seeing us, she played a final salute, and then
+descended, carrying the imprisoned music with her.
+
+That night we had our supper at sunset. Waiting Samuel had his meals by
+himself in the front room. 'So that in case the spirits come, I shall
+not be there to hinder them,' explained Roxana. 'I am not holy, like
+Samuel; they will not speak before me.'
+
+'Do you have your meals apart in the winter, also?' asked Raymond.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That is not very sociable,' I said.
+
+'Samuel never was sociable,' replied Roxana. 'Only common folks are
+sociable; but he is different. He has great gifts, Samuel has.'
+
+The meal over, we went up on the roof to smoke our cigars in the open
+air; when the sun had disappeared and his glory had darkened into
+twilight, our host joined us. He was a tall man, wasted and gaunt, with
+piercing dark eyes and dark hair, tinged with gray; hanging down upon
+his shoulders. (Why is it that long hair on the outside is almost always
+the sign of something wrong in the inside of a man's head?) He wore a
+black robe like a priest's cassock, and on his head a black skull-cap
+like the _Faust_ of the operatic stage.
+
+'Why were the Flats called St. Clair?' I said; for there is something
+fascinating to me in the unknown history of the West. 'There isn't any,'
+do you say? you I mean, who are strong in the Punic wars! you, too, who
+are so well up in Grecian mythology. But there is history, only we don't
+know it. The story of Lake Huron in the time of the Pharaohs, the story
+of the Mississippi during the reign of Belshazzar, would be worth
+hearing. But it is lost? All we can do is to gather together the details
+of our era,--the era when Columbus came to this New World, which was,
+nevertheless, as old as the world he left behind.
+
+'It was in 1679,' began Waiting Samuel, 'that La Salle sailed up the
+Detroit River in his little vessel of sixty tons burden, called the
+Griffin. He was accompanied by thirty-four men, mostly fur-traders; but
+there were among them two holy monks, and Father Louis Hennepin, a friar
+of the Franciscan order. They passed up the river and entered the little
+lake just south of us, crossing it and these Flats on the 12th of
+August, which is St. Clair's day. Struck with the gentle beauty of the
+scene, they named the waters after their saint, and at sunset sang a _Te
+Deum_ in her honor.'
+
+'And who was Saint Clair?'
+
+'Saint Clair, virgin and abbess, born in Italy, in 1193, made superior
+of a convent by the great Francis, and canonized for her distinguished
+virtues,' said Samuel, as though reading from an encyclopædia.
+
+'Are you a Roman Catholic?' asked Raymond.
+
+'I am everything; all sincere faith is sacred to me,' replied the man.
+'It is but a question of names.'
+
+'Tell us of your religion,' said Raymond, thoughtfully; for in religions
+Raymond was something of a polyglot.
+
+'You would hear of my faith? Well, so be it. Your question is the work
+of spirit influence. Listen, then. The great Creator has sowed immensity
+with innumerable systems of suns. In one of these systems a spirit
+forgot that he was a limited, subordinate being, and misused his
+freedom; how, we know not. He fell, and with him all his kind. A new
+race was then created for the vacant world, and, according to the fixed
+purpose of the Creator, each was left free to act for himself; he loves
+not mere machines. The fallen spirit, envying the new creature called
+man, tempted him to sin. What was his sin? Simply the giving up of his
+birthright, the divine soul-sparkle, for an earthly pleasure. The triune
+divine deep, the mysterious fiery triangle, which, to our finite minds,
+best represents the Deity, now withdrew his personal presence; the
+elements, their balance broken, stormed upon man; his body, which was
+once ethereal, moving by mere volition, now grew heavy; and it was also
+appointed unto him to die. The race thus darkened, crippled, and
+degenerate, sank almost to the level of brutes, the mind-fire alone
+remaining of all their spiritual gifts. They lived on blindly, and as
+blindly died. The sun, however, was left to them, a type of what they
+had lost.
+
+'At length, in the fulness of time, the world-day of four thousand
+years, which was appointed by the council in heaven for the regiving of
+the divine and forfeited soul-sparkle, as on the fourth day of creation
+the great sun was given, there came to earth the earth's compassionate
+Saviour, who took upon himself our degenerate body, and revivified it
+with the divine soul-sparkle, who overcame all our temptations, and
+finally allowed the tinder of our sins to perish in his own painful
+death upon the cross. Through him our paradise body was restored, it
+waits for us on the other side of the grave. He showed us what it was
+like on Mount Tabor, with it he passed through closed doors, walked upon
+the water, and ruled the elements; so will it be with us. Paradise will
+come again; this world will, for a thousand years, see its first estate;
+it will be again the Garden of Eden. America is the great
+escaping-place; here will the change begin. As it is written, 'Those who
+escape to my utmost borders.' As the time draws near, the spirits who
+watch above are permitted to speak to those souls who listen. Of these
+listening, waiting souls am I; therefore have I withdrawn myself. The
+sun himself speaks to me, the greatest spirit of all; each morning I
+watch for his coming; each morning I ask, 'Is it to-day?' Thus do I
+wait.'
+
+'And how long have you been waiting?' I asked.
+
+'I know not; time is nothing to me.'
+
+'Is the great day near at hand?' said Raymond.
+
+'Almost at its dawning; the last days are passing.'
+
+'How do you know this?'
+
+'The spirits tell me. Abide here, and perhaps they will speak to you
+also,' replied Waiting Samuel.
+
+We made no answer. Twilight had darkened into night, and the Flats had
+sunk into silence below us. After some moments I turned to speak to our
+host; but, noiselessly as one of his own spirits, he had departed.
+
+'A strange mixture of Jacob Boehmen, chiliastic dreams, Christianity,
+sun-worship, and modern spiritualism,' I said. 'Much learning hath made
+the Maine farmer mad.'
+
+'Is he mad?' said Raymond. 'Sometimes I think we are all mad.'
+
+'We should certainly become so if we spent our time in speculations upon
+subjects clearly beyond our reach. The whole race of philosophers from
+Plato down are all the time going round in a circle. As long as we are
+in the world, I for one propose to keep my feet on solid ground;
+especially as we have no wings. 'Abide here, and perhaps the spirits
+will speak to you,' did he say? I think very likely they will, and to
+such good purpose that you won't have any mind left.'
+
+'After all, why should not spirits speak to us?' said Raymond, in a
+musing tone.
+
+As he uttered these words the mocking laugh of a loon came across the
+dark waste.
+
+'The very loons are laughing at you,' I said, rising. 'Come down; there
+is a chill in the air, composed in equal parts of the Flats, the night,
+and Waiting Samuel. Come down, man; come down to the warm kitchen and
+common-sense.'
+
+We found Roxana alone by the fire, whose glow was refreshingly real and
+warm; it was like the touch of a flesh-and-blood hand, after vague
+dreamings of spirit-companions, cold and intangible at best, with the
+added suspicion that, after all, they are but creations of our own
+fancy, and even their spirit-nature fictitious. Prime, the graceful
+_raconteur_ who goes a-fishing, says, 'firelight is as much of a
+polisher in-doors as moonlight outside.' It is; but with a different
+result. The moonlight polishes everything into romance, the firelight
+into comfort. We brought up two remarkably easy old chairs in front of
+the hearth and sat down, Raymond still adrift with his wandering
+thoughts, I, as usual, making talk out of the present. Roxana sat
+opposite, knitting in hand, the cat purring at her feet. She was a
+slender woman, with faded light hair, insignificant features, small dull
+blue eyes, and a general aspect which, with every desire to state at
+its best, I can only call commonplace. Her gown was limp, her hands
+roughened with work, and there was no collar around her yellow throat. O
+magic rim of white, great is thy power! With thee, man is civilized;
+without thee, he becomes at once a savage.
+
+'I am out of pork,' remarked Roxana, casually; 'I must go over to the
+mainland to-morrow and get some.'
+
+If it had been anything but pork! In truth, the word did not chime with
+the mystic conversation of Waiting Samuel. Yes; there was no doubt about
+it. Roxana's mind was sadly commonplace.
+
+'See what I have found,' I said, after a while, taking out the old
+breastpin. 'The stone is gone; but who knows? It might have been a
+diamond dropped by some French duchess, exiled, and fleeing for life
+across these far Western waters; or perhaps that German Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other, who, about one hundred years ago,
+was dead and buried in Russia, and travelling in America at the same
+time, a sort of a female wandering Jew, who has been done up in stories
+ever since.'
+
+(The other day, in Bret Harte's 'Melons,' I saw the following: 'The
+singular conflicting conditions of John Brown's body and soul were, at
+that time, beginning to attract the attention of American youth.' That
+is good, isn't it? Well, at the time I visited the Flats, the singular
+conflicting conditions of the Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other had, for a long time, haunted me.)
+
+Roxana's small eyes were near-sighted; she peered at the empty setting,
+but said nothing.
+
+'It is water-logged,' I continued, holding it up in the firelight, 'and
+it hath a brassy odor; nevertheless, I feel convinced that it belonged
+to the princess.'
+
+Roxana leaned forward and took the trinket; I lifted up my arms and gave
+a mighty stretch, one of those enjoyable lengthenings-out which belong
+only to the healthy fatigue of country life. When I drew myself in
+again, I was surprised to see Roxana's features working, and her rough
+hands trembling, as she held the battered setting.
+
+'It was mine,' she said; 'my dear old cameo breastpin that Abby gave me
+when I was married. I saved it and saved it, and wouldn't sell it, no
+matter how low we got, for someway it seemed to tie me to home and
+baby's grave. I used to wear it when I had baby--I had neck-ribbons
+then; we had things like other folks, and on Sundays we went to the old
+meeting-house on the green. Baby is buried there--O baby, baby!' and the
+voice broke into sobs.
+
+'You lost a child?' I said, pitying the sorrow which was, which must be,
+so lonely, so unshared.
+
+'Yes. O baby! baby!' cried the woman, in a wailing tone. 'It was a
+little boy, gentlemen, and it had curly hair, and could just talk a word
+or two; its name was Ethan, after father, but we all called it Robin.
+Father was mighty proud of Robin, and mother, too. It died, gentlemen,
+my baby died, and I buried it in the old churchyard near the thorn-tree.
+But still I thought to stay there always along with mother and the
+girls; I never supposed anything else, until Samuel began to see
+visions. Then, everything was different, and everybody against us; for,
+you see, I would marry Samuel, and when he left off working and began to
+talk to the spirits, the folks all said, 'I told yer so, Maria Ann!'
+Samuel wasn't of Maine stock exactly: his father was a sailor, and 't
+was suspected that his mother was some kind of an East-Injia woman, but
+no one knew. His father died and left the boy on the town, so he lived
+round from house to house until he got old enough to hire out. Then he
+came to our farm, and there he stayed. He had wonderful eyes, Samuel
+had, and he had a way with him--well, the long and short of it was, that
+I got to thinking about him, and couldn't think of anything else. The
+folks didn't like it at all, for, you see, there was Adam Rand, who had
+a farm of his own over the hill; but I never could bear Adam Rand. The
+worst of it was, though, that Samuel never so much as looked at me,
+hardly. Well, it got to be the second year, and Susan, my younger
+sister, married Adam Rand. Adam, he thought he'd break up my nonsense,
+that's what they called it, and so he got a good place for Samuel away
+down in Connecticut, and Samuel said he'd go, for he was always
+restless, Samuel was. When I heard it, I was ready to lie down and die.
+I ran out into the pasture and threw myself down by the fence like a
+crazy woman. Samuel happened to come by along the lane, and saw me; he
+was always kind to all the dumb creatures, and stopped to see what was
+the matter, just as he would have stopped to help a calf. It all came
+out then, and he was awful sorry for me. He sat down on the top bar of
+the fence and looked at me, and I sat on the ground a-crying with my
+hair down, and my face all red and swollen.
+
+'I never thought to marry, Maria Ann,' says he.
+
+'O, please do, Samuel,' says I, 'I'm a real good housekeeper, I am, and
+we can have a little land of our own, and everything nice--'
+
+'But I wanted to go away. My father was a sailor,' he began, a-looking
+off toward the ocean.
+
+'O, I can't stand it,' says I, beginning to cry again. Well after that
+he 'greed to stay at home and marry me, and the folks they had to give
+in to it when they saw how I felt. We were married on Thanksgiving day,
+and I wore a pink delaine, purple neck-ribbon, and this very breastpin
+that sister Abby gave me,--it cost four dollars, and came 'way from
+Boston. Mother kissed me, and said she hoped I'd be happy.
+
+'Of course I shall, mother,' says I, 'Samuel has great gifts; he isn't
+like common folks.'
+
+'But common folks is a deal comfortabler,' says mother. The folks never
+understood Samuel.
+
+'Well, we had a chirk little house and bit of land, and baby came, and
+was so cunning and pretty. The visions had begun to appear then, and
+Samuel said he must go.
+
+'Where?' says I.
+
+'Anywhere the spirits lead me,' says he.
+
+'But baby couldn't travel, and so it hung along; Samuel left off work,
+and everything ran down to loose ends; I did the best I could, but it
+wasn't much. Then baby died, and I buried him under the thorn-tree, and
+the visions came thicker and thicker; Samuel told me as how this time he
+must go. The folks wanted me to stay behind without him; but they never
+understood me nor him. I could no more leave him than I could fly; I was
+just wrapped up in him. So we went away; I cried dreadfully when it came
+to leaving the folks and Robin's little grave, but I had so much to do
+after we got started, that there wasn't time for anything but work. We
+thought to settle in ever so many places, but after a while there would
+always come a vision, and I'd have to sell out and start on. The little
+money we had was soon gone, and then I went out for days' work, and
+picked up any work I could get. But many's the time we were cold, and
+many's the time we were hungry, gentlemen. The visions kept coming, and
+by and by I got to like 'em too. Samuel he told me all they said when I
+came home nights, and it was nice to hear all about the thousand years
+of joy, when there'd be no more trouble, and when Robin would come back
+to us again. Only I told Samuel that I hoped the world wouldn't alter
+much, because I wanted to go back to Maine for a few days, and see all
+the old places. Father and mother are dead, I suppose,' said Roxana,
+looking up at us with a pathetic expression in her small dull eyes.
+Beautiful eyes are doubly beautiful in sorrow; but there is something
+peculiarly pathetic in small dull eyes looking up at you, struggling to
+express the grief that lies within, like a prisoner behind the bars of
+his small dull window.
+
+'And how did you lose your breastpin?' I said, coming back to the
+original subject.
+
+'Samuel found I had it, and threw it away soon after we came to the
+Flats; he said it was vanity.'
+
+'Have you been here long?'
+
+'O yes, years. I hope we shall stay here always now,--at least, I mean
+until the thousand years of joy begin,--for it's quiet, and Samuel's
+more easy here than in any other place. I've got used to the lonely
+feeling, and don't mind it much now. There's no one near us for miles,
+Rosabel Lee and Liakim; they don't come here, for Samuel can't abide
+'em, but sometimes I stop there on my way over from the mainland, and
+have a little chat about the children. Rosabel Lee has got lovely
+children, she has! They don't stay there in the winter, though; the
+winters _are_ long, I don't deny it.'
+
+'What do you do then?'
+
+'Well, I knit and cook, and Samuel reads to me, and has a great many
+visions.'
+
+'He has books, then!'
+
+'Yes, all kinds; he's a great reader, and he has boxes of books about
+the spirits, and such things.'
+
+'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, that makest me dwell in safety,' chanted
+the voice in the hall; and our evening was over.
+
+At dawn we attended the service on the roof; then, after breakfast, we
+released Captain Kidd, and started out for another day's sport. We had
+not rowed far when Roxana passed us, poling her flat-boat rapidly along;
+she had a load of fish and butter, and was bound for the mainland
+village. 'Bring us back a Detroit paper,' I said. She nodded and passed
+on, stolid and homely in the morning light. Yes, I was obliged to
+confess to myself that she _was_ commonplace.
+
+A glorious day we had on the moors in the rushing September wind.
+Everything rustled and waved and danced, and the grass undulated in long
+billows as far as the eye could see. The wind enjoyed himself like mad;
+he had no forests to oppose him, no heavy water to roll up,--nothing but
+merry, swaying grasses. It was the west wind,--'of all the winds, the
+best wind.' The east wind was given us for our sins; I have long
+suspected that the east wind was the angel that drove Adam out of
+Paradise. We did nothing that day,--nothing but enjoy the rushing
+breeze. We felt like Bedouins of the desert, with our boat for a steed.
+'He came flying upon the wings of the wind,' is the grandest image of
+the Hebrew poet.
+
+Late in the afternoon we heard the bugle and returned, following our
+clew as before. Roxana had brought a late paper, and, opening it, I saw
+the account of an accident,--a yacht run down on the Sound and five
+drowned; five, all near and dear to us. Hastily and sadly we gathered
+our possessions together; the hunting, the fishing, were nothing now;
+all we thought of was to get away, to go home to the sorrowing ones
+around the new-made graves. Roxana went with us in her boat to guide us
+back to the little lighthouse. Waiting Samuel bade us no farewell, but
+as we rowed away we saw him standing on the house-top gazing after us.
+We bowed; he waved his hand; and then turned away to look at the sunset.
+What were our little affairs to a man who held converse with the
+spirits!
+
+We rowed in silence. How long, how weary seemed the way! The grasses,
+the lilies, the silver channels,--we no longer even saw them. At length
+the forward boat stopped. 'There's the lighthouse yonder,' said Roxana.
+'I won't go over there to-night. Mayhap you'd rather not talk, and
+Rosabel Lee will be sure to talk to me. Good by.' We shook hands, and I
+laid in the boat a sum of money to help the little household through the
+winter; then we rowed on toward the lighthouse. At the turn I looked
+back; Roxana was sitting motionless in her boat; the dark clouds were
+rolling up behind her; and the Flats looked wild and desolate. 'God help
+her!' I said.
+
+A steamer passed the lighthouse and took us off within the hour.
+
+Years rolled away, and I often thought of the grassy sea, and its
+singularly strange associations, and intended to go there; but the
+intention never grew into reality. In 1870, however, I was travelling
+westward, and, finding myself at Detroit, a sudden impulse took me up to
+the Flats. The steamer sailed up the beautiful river and crossed the
+little lake, both unchanged. But, alas! the canal predicted by the
+captain fifteen years before had been cut, and, in all its unmitigated
+ugliness, stretched straight through the enchanted land. I got off at
+the new and prosaic brick lighthouse, half expecting to see Liakim and
+his Rosabel Lee; but they were not there, and no one knew anything about
+them. And Waiting Samuel? No one knew anything about him either. I took
+a skiff, and, at the risk of losing myself, I rowed away into the
+wilderness, spending the day among the silvery channels, which were as
+beautiful as ever. There were fewer birds; I saw no grave herons, no
+sombre bitterns, and the fish had grown shy. But the water-lilies were
+beautiful as of old, and the grasses as delicate and luxuriant. I had
+scarcely a hope of finding the old house on the island, but late in the
+afternoon, by a mere chance, I rowed up unexpectedly to its little
+landing-place. The walls stood firm and the roof unbroken; I landed and
+walked up the overgrown path. Opening the door, I found the few old
+chairs and tables in their places, weather-beaten and decayed, the
+storms had forced a way within, and the floor was insecure; but the gay
+crockery was on its shelf, the old tins against the wall, and all looked
+so natural that I almost feared to find the mortal remains of the
+husband and wife as I went from room to room. They were not there,
+however, and the place looked as if it had been uninhabited for years. I
+lingered in the doorway. What had become of them? Were they dead? Or had
+a new vision sent them farther toward the setting sun? I never knew,
+although I made many inquiries. If dead, they were probably lying
+somewhere under the shining waters; if alive, they must have 'folded
+their tents, like the Arabs, and silently stolen away.'
+
+I rowed back in the glow of the evening across the grassy sea. 'It is
+beautiful, beautiful,' I thought, 'but it is passing away. Already
+commerce has invaded its borders; a few more years and its loveliness
+will be but a legend of the past. The bittern has vanished; the loon has
+fled away. Waiting Samuel was the prophet of the waste; he has gone, and
+the barriers are broken down. No artist has painted, no poet has sung
+your wild, vanishing charm; but in one heart, at least, you have a
+place, O lovely land of St. Clair!'
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF LITTLE FISHING.
+
+
+It was an island in Lake Superior.
+
+I beached my canoe there about four o'clock in the afternoon, for the
+wind was against me and a high sea running. The late summer of 1850, and
+I was coasting along the south shore of the great lake, hunting,
+fishing, and camping on the beach, under the delusion that in that way I
+was living 'close to the great heart of nature,'--whatever that may
+mean. Lord Bacon got up the phrase; I suppose he knew. Pulling the boat
+high and dry on the sand with the comfortable reflection that here were
+no tides to disturb her with their goings-out and comings-in, I strolled
+through the woods on a tour of exploration, expecting to find bluebells,
+Indian pipes, juniper rings, perhaps a few agates along-shore, possibly
+a bird or two for company. I found a town.
+
+It was deserted; but none the less a town, with three streets,
+residences, a meeting-house, gardens, a little park, and an attempt at a
+fountain. Ruins are rare in the New World. I took off my hat. 'Hail,
+homes of the past!' I said. (I cultivated the habit of thinking aloud
+when I was living close to the great heart of nature.) 'A human voice
+resounds through your arches' (there were no arches,--logs won't arch;
+but never mind) 'once more, a human hand touches your venerable walls, a
+human foot presses your deserted hearth-stones.' I then selected the
+best half of the meeting-house for a camp, and kindled a glorious
+bonfire in the park. 'Now that you are illuminated with joy, O Ruin,' I
+remarked, 'I will go down to the beach and bring up my supplies. It is
+long since I have had a roof over my head; I promise you to stay until
+your last residence is well burned; then I will make a final cup of
+coffee with the meeting-house itself, and depart in peace, leaving your
+poor old bones buried in decent ashes.'
+
+The ruin made no objection, and I took up my abode there, the roof of
+the meeting-house was still water-tight (which is an advantage when the
+great heart of nature grows wet). I kindled a fire on the sacerdotal
+hearth, cooked my supper, ate it in leisurely comfort, and then
+stretched myself on a blanket to enjoy an evening pipe of peace,
+listening meanwhile to the sounding of the wind through the great
+pine-trees. There was no door to my sanctuary, but I had the cosey far
+end; the island was uninhabited, there was not a boat in sight at
+sunset, nothing could disturb me unless it might be a ghost. Presently a
+ghost came in.
+
+It did not wear the traditional gray tarlatan armor of Hamlet's father,
+the only ghost with whom I am well acquainted; this spectre was clad in
+substantial deer-skin garments, and carried a gun and loaded game-bag.
+It came forward to my hearth, hung up its gun, opened its game-bag, took
+out some birds, and inspected them gravely.
+
+'Fat?' I inquired.
+
+'They'll do,' replied the spectre, and forthwith set to work preparing
+them for the coals. I smoked on in silence. The spectre seemed to be a
+skilled cook, and after deftly broiling its supper, it offered me a
+share; I accepted. It swallowed a huge mouthful and crunched with its
+teeth; the spell was broken, and I knew it for a man of flesh and blood.
+
+He gave his name as Reuben, and proved himself an excellent camping
+companion; in fact, he shot all the game, caught all the fish, made all
+the fires, and cooked all the food for us both. I proposed to him to
+stay and help me burn up the ruin, with the condition that when the last
+timber of the meeting-house was consumed, we should shake hands and
+depart, one to the east, one to the west, without a backward glance. 'In
+that way we shall not infringe upon each other's personality,' I said.
+
+'Agreed,' replied Reuben.
+
+He was a man of between fifty and sixty years, while I was on the sunny
+side of thirty; he was reserved, I was always generously affable; he was
+an excellent cook, while I--well, I wasn't; he was taciturn, and so, in
+payment for the work he did, I entertained him with conversation, or
+rather monologue, in my most brilliant style. It took only two weeks to
+burn up the town, burned we never so slowly; at last it came to the
+meeting house, which now stood by itself in the vacant clearing. It was
+a cool September day; we cooked breakfast with the roof, dinner with the
+sides, supper with the odds and ends, and then applied a torch to the
+framework. Our last camp-fire was a glorious one. We lay stretched on
+our blankets, smoking and watching the glow. 'I wonder, now, who built
+the old shanty,' I said in a musing tone.
+
+'Well,' replied Reuben, slowly, 'if you really want to know, I will tell
+you. I did.'
+
+'You!'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'You didn't do it alone?'
+
+'No; there were about forty of us.'
+
+'Here?'
+
+'Yes; here at Little Fishing;'
+
+'Little Fishing?'
+
+'Yes; Little Fishing Island. That is the name of the place.'
+
+'How long ago was this?'
+
+'Thirty years.'
+
+'Hunting and trapping, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes; for the Northwest and Hudson Bay Companies.'
+
+'Wasn't a meeting house an unusual accompaniment?'
+
+'Most unusual.'
+
+'Accounted for in this case by--'
+
+'A woman.'
+
+'Ah!' I said in a tone of relish; 'then of course there is a story?'
+
+'There is.'
+
+'Out with it, comrade. I scarcely expected to find the woman and her
+story up here; but since the irrepressible creature would come, out with
+her by all means. She shall grace our last pipe together, the last
+timber of our meeting-house, our last night on Little Fishing. The dawn
+will see us far from each other, to meet no more this side heaven. Speak
+then, O comrade mine! I am in one of my rare listening moods!'
+
+I stretched myself at ease and waited. Reuben was a long time beginning
+but I was too indolent to urge him. At length he spoke.
+
+'They were a rough set here at Little Fishing, all the worse for being
+all white men; most of the other camps were full of half-breeds and
+Indians. The island had been a station away back in the early days of
+the Hudson Bay Company; it was a station for the Northwest Company while
+that lasted; then it went back to the Hudson, and stayed there until the
+company moved its forces farther to the north. It was not at any time a
+regular post; only a camp for the hunters. The post was farther down the
+lake. O, but those were wild days! You think you know the wilderness,
+boy; but you know nothing, absolutely nothing. It makes me laugh to see
+the airs of you city gentlemen with your fine guns, improved
+fishing-tackle, elaborate paraphernalia, as though you were going to wed
+the whole forest, floating up and down the lake for a month or two in
+the summer! You should have seen the hunters of Little Fishing going out
+gayly when the mercury was down twenty degrees below zero, for a week in
+the woods. You should have seen the trappers wading through the hard
+snow, breast high, in the gray dawn, visiting the traps and hauling home
+the prey. There were all kinds of men here, Scotch, French, English, and
+American; all classes, the high and the low, the educated and the
+ignorant; all sorts, the lazy and the hard-working. One thing only they
+all had in common,--badness. Some had fled to the wilderness to escape
+the law, others to escape order; some had chosen the wild life because
+of its wildness, others had drifted into it from sheer lethargy. This
+far northern border did not attract the plodding emigrant, the
+respectable settler. Little Fishing held none of that trash; only a
+reckless set of fellows who carried their lives in their hands, and
+tossed them up, if need be without a second thought.'
+
+'And other people's lives without a third,' I suggested.
+
+'Yes; if they deserved it. But nobody whined; there wasn't any nonsense
+here. The men went hunting and trapping, got the furs ready for the
+bateaux, ate when they were hungry, drank when they were thirsty, slept
+when they were sleepy, played cards when they felt like it, and got
+angry and knocked each other down whenever they chose. As I said before,
+there wasn't any nonsense at Little Fishing,--until _she_ came.'
+
+'Ah! the she!'
+
+'Yes, the Lady,--our Lady, as we called her. Thirty-one years ago; how
+long it seems!'
+
+'And well it may,' I said. 'Why, comrade, I wasn't born then!'
+
+This stupendous fact seemed to strike me more than my companion; he went
+on with his story as though I had not spoken.
+
+'One October evening, four of the boys had got into a row over the
+cards; the rest of us had come out of our wigwams to see the fun, and
+were sitting around on the stumps, chaffing them, and laughing; the
+camp-fire was burning in front, lighting up the woods with a red glow
+for a short distance, and making the rest doubly black all around. There
+we were, as I said before, quite easy and comfortable, when suddenly
+there appeared among us, as though she had dropped from heaven, a woman!
+
+'She was tall and slender, the firelight shone full on her pale face and
+dove-colored dress, her golden hair was folded back under a little white
+cap, and a white kerchief lay over her shoulders; she looked spotless. I
+stared; I could scarcely believe my eyes; none of us could. There was
+not a white woman west of the Sault Ste. Marie. The four fellows at the
+table sat as if transfixed; one had his partner by the throat, the other
+two were disputing over a point in the game. The lily lady glided up to
+their table, gathered the cards in her white hands, slowly, steadily,
+without pause or trepidation before their astonished eyes, and then,
+coming back, she threw the cards into the centre of the glowing fire.
+'Ye shall not play away your souls,' she said in a clear, sweet voice.
+'Is not the game sin? And its reward death?' And then, immediately, she
+gave us a sermon, the like of which was never heard before; no argument,
+no doctrine, just simple, pure entreaty. 'For the love of God,' she
+ended, stretching out her hands toward our silent, gazing group,--'for
+the love of God, my brothers, try to do better.'
+
+'We did try; but it was not for the love of God. Neither did any of us
+feel like brothers.
+
+'She did not give any name; we called her simply our Lady, and she
+accepted the title. A bundle carefully packed in birch-bark was found on
+the beach. 'Is this yours?' asked black Andy.
+
+'It is,' replied the Lady; and removing his hat, the black-haired giant
+carried the package reverently inside her lodge. For we had given her
+our best wigwam, and fenced it off with pine saplings so that it looked
+like a miniature fortress. The Lady did not suggest this stockade; it
+was our own idea, and with one accord we worked at it like beavers, and
+hung up a gate with a ponderous bolt inside.
+
+'Mais, ze can nevare farsen eet wiz her leetle fingares,' said Frenchy,
+a sallow little wretch with a turn for handicraft; so he contrived a
+small spring which shot the bolt into place with a touch. The Lady lived
+in her fortress; three times a day the men carried food to her door,
+and, after tapping gently, withdrew again, stumbling over each other in
+their haste. The Flying Dutchman, a stolid Holland-born sailor, was our
+best cook, and the pans and kettles were generally left to him; but now
+all wanted to try their skill, and the results were extraordinary.
+
+'She's never touched that pudding, now' said Nightingale Jack,
+discontentedly, as his concoction of berries and paste came back from
+the fortress door.
+
+'She will starve soon, I think,' remarked the Doctor, calmly; 'to my
+certain knowledge she has not had an eatable meal for four days.' And he
+lighted a fresh pipe. This was an aside, and the men pretended not to
+hear it; but the pans were relinquished to the Dutchman from that time
+forth.
+
+'The Lady wore always her dove-colored robe, and little white cap,
+through whose muslin we could see the glimmer of her golden hair. She
+came and went among us like a spirit; she knew no fear; she turned our
+life inside out, nor shrank from its vileness. It seemed as though she
+was not of earth, so utterly impersonal was her interest in us, so
+heavenly her pity. She took up our sins, one by one, as an angel might;
+she pleaded with us for our own lost souls, she spared us not, she held
+not back one grain of denunciation, one iota of future punishment.
+Sometimes, for days, we would not see her; then, at twilight, she would
+glide out among us, and, standing in the light of the camp-fire, she
+would preach to us as though inspired. We listened to her; I do not mean
+that we were one whit better at heart, but still we listened to her,
+always. It was a wonderful sight, that lily face under the pine-trees,
+that spotless woman standing alone in the glare of the fire, while
+around her lay forty evil-minded, lawless men, not one of whom but would
+have killed his neighbor for so much as a disrespectful thought of her.
+
+'So strange was her coming, so almost supernatural her appearance in
+this far forest, that we never wondered over its cause, but simply
+accepted it as a sort of miracle; your thoroughly irreligious men are
+always superstitious. Not one of us would have asked a question, and we
+should never have known her story had she not herself told it to us; not
+immediately, not as though it was of any importance, but quietly,
+briefly, and candidly as a child. She came, she said, from Scotland,
+with a band of God's people. She had always been in one house, a
+religious institution of some kind, sewing for the poor when her
+strength allowed it, but generally ill, and suffering much from pain in
+her head; often kept under the influence of soothing medicines for days
+together. She had no father or mother, she was only one of this band;
+and when they decided to send out missionaries to America, she begged to
+go, although but a burden; the sea voyage restored her health; she grew,
+she said, in strength and in grace, and her heart was as the heart of a
+lion. Word came to her from on high that she should come up into the
+northern lake-country and preach the gospel there; the band were going
+to the verdant prairies. She left them in the night, taking nothing but
+her clothing; a friendly vessel carried her north; she had preached the
+gospel everywhere. At the Sault the priests had driven her out, but
+nothing fearing, she went on into the wilderness, and so, coming part of
+the way in canoes, part of the way along-shore, she had reached our far
+island. Marvellous kindness had she met with, she said; the Indians, the
+half-breeds, the hunters, and the trappers had all received her, and
+helped her on her way from camp to camp. They had listened to her words
+also. At Portage they had begged her to stay through the winter, and
+offered to build her a little church for Sunday services. Our men looked
+at each other. Portage was the worst camp on the lake, notorious for its
+fights; it was a mining settlement.
+
+'But I told them I must journey on toward the west,' continued our Lady.
+'I am called to visit every camp on this shore before winter sets in; I
+must soon leave you also.'
+
+'The men looked at each other again; the Doctor was spokesman. 'But, my
+Lady,' he said 'the next post is Fort William, two hundred and
+thirty-five miles away on the north shore.'
+
+'It is almost November; the snow will soon be six and ten feet deep.
+The Lady could never travel through it,--could she now?' said Black
+Andy, who had begun eagerly, but in his embarrassment at the sound of
+his own voice, now turned to Frenchy and kicked him covertly into
+answering.
+
+'Nevare!' replied the Frenchman; he had intended to place his hand upon
+his heart to give emphasis to his word, but the Lady turned her calm
+eyes that way, and his grimy paw fell, its gallantry wilted.
+
+'I thought there was one more camp,--at Burntwood River,' said our Lady
+in a musing tone. The men looked at each other a third time; there was a
+camp there, and they all knew it. But the Doctor was equal to the
+emergency.
+
+'That camp, my Lady,' he said gravely,--'that camp no longer exists!
+Then he whispered hurriedly to the rest of us, 'It will be an easy job
+to clean it out, boys. We'll send over a party to-night; it's only
+thirty-five miles.'
+
+'We recognized superior genius; the Doctor was our oldest and deepest
+sinner. But what struck us most was his anxiety to make good his lie.
+Had it then come to this,--that the Doctor told the truth?
+
+'The next day we all went to work to build our Lady a church; in a week
+it was completed. There goes its last cross-beam now into the fire; it
+was a solid piece of work, wasn't it? It has stood this climate thirty
+years. I remember the first Sunday service: we all washed, and dressed
+ourselves in the best we had; we scarcely knew each other we were so
+fine. The Lady was pleased with the church, but yet she had not said she
+would stay all winter; we were still anxious. How she preached to us
+that day! We had made a screen of young spruces set in boxes, and her
+figure stood out against the dark green background like a thing of
+light. Her silvery voice rang through the log-temple, her face seemed to
+us like a star. She had no color in her cheeks at any time; her dress,
+too, was colorless. Although gentle, there was an iron inflexibility
+about her slight, erect form. We felt, as we saw her standing there,
+that if need be she would walk up to the cannon's mouth, with a smile.
+She took a little book from her pocket and read to us a hymn,--'O come,
+all ye faithful,' the old 'Adeste Fideles.' Some of us knew it; she
+sang, and gradually, shamefacedly, voices joined in. It was a sight to
+see Nightingale Jack solemnly singing away about 'choirs of angels';
+but it was a treat to hear him, too,--what a voice he had! Then our
+Lady prayed, kneeling down on the little platform in front of the
+evergreens, clasping her hands, and lifting her eyes to heaven. We did
+not know what to do at first, but the Doctor gave us a severe look and
+bent his head, and we all followed his lead.
+
+'When service was over and the door opened, we found that it had been
+snowing; we could not see out through the windows because white cloth
+was nailed over them in place of glass.
+
+'"Now, my Lady, you will have to stay with us," said the Doctor. We all
+gathered around with eager faces.
+
+'"Do you really believe that it will be for the good of your souls?"
+asked the sweet voice.
+
+'The Doctor believed--for us all.
+
+'"Do you really hope?"
+
+'The Doctor hoped.
+
+'"Will you try to do your best?"
+
+'The Doctor was sure he would.
+
+'"I will," answered the Flying Dutchman, earnestly. "I moost not fry de
+meat any more; I moost broil!"
+
+'For we had begged him for months to broil, and he had obstinately
+refused; broil represented the good, and fry the evil, to his mind; he
+came out for the good according to his light; but none the less did we
+fall upon him behind the Lady's back, and cuff him into silence.
+
+'She stayed with us all winter. You don't know what the winters are up
+here; steady, bitter cold for seven months, thermometer always below,
+the snow dry as dust, the air like a knife. We built a compact chimney
+for our Lady, and we cut cords of wood into small, light sticks, easy
+for her to lift, and stacked them in her shed; we lined her lodge with
+skins, and we made oil from bear's fat and rigged up a kind of lamp for
+her. We tried to make candles, I remember, but they would not run
+straight; they came out humpbacked and sidling, and burned themselves to
+wick in no time. Then we took to improving the town. We had lived in all
+kinds of huts and lean-to shanties; now nothing would do but regular
+log-houses. If it had been summer, I don't know what we might not have
+run to in the way of piazzas and fancy steps; but with the snow five
+feet deep, all we could accomplish was a plain, square log-house, and
+even that took our whole force. The only way to keep the peace was to
+have all the houses exactly alike; we laid out the three streets, and
+built the houses, all facing the meeting-house, just as you found them.'
+
+'And where was the Lady's lodge?' I asked, for I recalled no stockaded
+fortress, large or small.
+
+My companion hesitated a moment. Then he said abruptly, 'it was torn
+down.'
+
+'Torn down!' I repeated. 'Why, what--'
+
+Reuben waved his hand with a gesture that silenced me, and went on with
+his story. It came to me then for the first time, that he was pursuing
+the current of his own thoughts rather than entertaining me. I turned to
+look at him with a new interest. I had talked to him for two weeks, in
+rather a patronizing way; could it be that affairs were now, at this
+moment, reversed?
+
+'It took us almost all winter to build those houses,' pursued Reuben.
+'At one time we neglected the hunting and trapping to such a degree,
+that the Doctor called a meeting and expressed his opinion. Ours was a
+voluntary camp, in a measure, but still we had formally agreed to get a
+certain amount of skins ready for the bateaux by early spring; this
+agreement was about the only real bond of union between us. Those whose
+houses were not completed scowled at the Doctor.
+
+'"Do you suppose I'm going to live like an Injun when the other fellows
+has regular houses?" inquired Black Andy, with a menacing air.
+
+'"By no means," replied the Doctor, blandly, "My plan is this: build at
+night."
+
+'"At night?"
+
+'"Yes; by the light of pine fires."
+
+'We did. After that, we faithfully went out hunting and trapping as long
+as daylight lasted, and then, after supper, we built up huge fires of
+pine logs, and went to work on the next house. It was a strange picture;
+the forest deep in snow, black with night, the red glow of the great
+fires, and our moving figures working on as complacently as though
+daylight, balmy air, and the best of tools were ours.
+
+'The Lady liked our industry. She said our new houses showed that the
+"new cleanliness of our inner man required a cleaner tabernacle for the
+outer." I don't know about our inner man, but our outer was certainly
+much cleaner.
+
+'One day the Flying Dutchman made one of his unfortunate remarks. "De
+boys t'inks you'll like dem better in nize houses," he announced when,
+happening to pass the fortress, he found the Lady standing at her gate
+gazing at the work of the preceding night. Several of the men were near
+enough to hear him, but too far off to kick him into silence as usual;
+but they glared at him instead. The Lady looked at the speaker with her
+dreamy, far-off eyes.
+
+'"De boys t'inks you like dem," began the Dutchman again, thinking she
+did not comprehend; but at that instant he caught the combined glare of
+the six eyes, and stopped abruptly, not all knowing what was wrong, but
+sure there was something.
+
+'"Like them," repeated the Lady, dreamily; "yea I do like them. Nay,
+more, I love them. Their souls are as dear to me as the souls of
+brothers."
+
+'Say, Frenchy, have you got a sister?' said Nightingale Jack,
+confidentially, that evening.
+
+'Mais oui,' said Frenchy.
+
+'You think all creation of her, I suppose?'
+
+'We fight like four cats and one dog; _she_ is the cats,' said the
+Frenchman concisely.
+
+'You don't say so!' replied Jack. 'Now, I never had a sister,--but I
+thought perhaps--' He paused, and the sentence remained unfinished.
+
+'The Nightingale and I were housemates. We sat late over our fire not
+long after that; I gave a gigantic yawn. 'This lifting logs half the
+night is enough to kill one,' I said, getting out my jug. Sing
+something, Jack. It's a long time since I've heard anything but hymns.'
+
+'Jack always went off as easily as a music-box: you only had to wind him
+up; the jug was the key. I soon had him in full blast. He was giving out
+
+    'The minute gun at sea,--the minute gun at sea,'
+
+with all the pathos of his tenor voice, when the door burst open and the
+whole population rushed in upon us.
+
+'What do you mean by shouting thes way, in the middle of the night?'
+
+'Shut up your howling, Jack.'
+
+'How do you suppose any one can sleep?'
+
+'It's a disgrace to the camp!'
+
+'Now then, gentlemen,' I replied, for my blood was up (whiskey,
+perhaps), 'is this my house, or isn't it? If I want music, I'll have it.
+Time was when you were not so particular.'
+
+'It was the first word of rebellion. The men looked at each other, then
+at me.
+
+'I'll go and ask her if she objects,' I continued, boldly.
+
+'No, no. You shall not.'
+
+'Let him go,' said the Doctor, who stood smoking his pipe on the
+outskirts of the crowd. 'It is just as well to have that point settled
+now. The Minute Gun at Sea is a good moral song in its way,--a sort of
+marine missionary affair.'
+
+'So I started, the others followed; we all knew that the Lady watched
+late; we often saw the glimmer of her lamp far on toward morning. It was
+burning now. The gate was fastened, I knocked; no answer. I knocked
+again, and yet a third time; still silence. The men stood off at a
+little distance and waited. 'She shall answer,' I said angrily, and
+going around to the side where the stockade came nearer to the wall of
+the lodge, I knocked loudly on the close-set saplings. For answer I
+thought I heard a low moan; I listened, it came again. My anger
+vanished, and with a mighty bound I swung myself up to the top of the
+stockade, sprung down inside, ran around, and tried the door. It was
+fastened; I burst it open and entered. There, by the light of the
+hanging lamp, I saw the Lady on the floor, apparently dead. I raised her
+in my arms; her heart was beating faintly, but she was unconscious. I
+had seen many fainting fits; this was something different; the limbs
+were rigid. I laid her on the low couch, loosened her dress, bathed her
+head and face in cold water, and wrenched up one of the warm
+hearth-stones to apply to her feet. I did not hesitate; I saw that it
+was a dangerous case, something like a trance or an 'ectasis.' Somebody
+must attend to her, and there were only men to choose from. Then why not
+I?
+
+'I heard the others talking outside; they could not understand the
+delay; but I never heeded, and kept on my work. To tell the truth, I had
+studied medicine, and felt a genuine enthusiasm over a rare case. Once
+my patient opened her eyes and looked at me, then she lapsed away again
+into unconsciousness in spite of all my efforts. At last the men
+outside came in, angry and suspicious; they had broken down the gate.
+There we all stood, the whole forty of us, around the deathlike form of
+our Lady.
+
+'What a night it was! To give her air, the men camped outside in the
+snow with a line of pickets in whispering distance from each other from
+the bed to their anxious group. Two were detailed to help me,--the
+Doctor (whose title was a sarcastic D. D.) and Jimmy, a gentle little
+man, excellent at bandaging broken limbs. Every vial in the camp was
+brought in,--astonishing lotions, drops, and balms; each man produced
+something; they did their best, poor fellows, and wore out the night
+with their anxiety. At dawn our Lady revived suddenly, thanked us all,
+and assured us that she felt quite well again; the trance was over. 'It
+was my old enemy,' she said, 'the old illness of Scotland, which I hoped
+had left me for ever. But I am thankful that it is no worse; I have come
+out of it with a clear brain. Sing a hymn of thankfulness for me, dear
+friends, before you go.'
+
+'Now, we sang on Sunday in the church; but then she led us, and we had a
+kind of an idea that after all she did not hear us. But now, who was to
+lead us? We stood awkwardly around the bed, and shuffled our hats in our
+uneasy fingers. The Doctor fixed his eyes upon the Nightingale; Jack saw
+it and cowered. 'Begin,' said the Doctor in a soft voice; but gripping
+him in the back at the same time with an ominous clutch.
+
+'I don't know the words,' faltered the unhappy Nightingale.
+
+    "'Now thank we all our God,
+      With hearts and hands and voices,'
+
+began the Doctor, and repeated Luther's hymn with perfect accuracy from
+beginning to end. 'What will happen next? The Doctor knows hymns!' we
+thought in profound astonishment. But the Nightingale had begun, and
+gradually our singers joined in; I doubt whether the grand old choral
+was ever sung by such a company before or since. There was never any
+further question, by the way, about that minute gun at sea; it stayed at
+sea as far as we were concerned.
+
+'Spring came, the faltering spring of Lake Superior. I won't go into my
+own story, but such as it was, the spring brought it back to me with new
+force. I wanted to go,--and yet I didn't. 'Where,' do you ask? To see
+her, of course,--a woman, the most beautiful,--well, never mind all
+that. To be brief, I loved her; she scorned me; I thought I had learned
+to hate her--but--I wasn't sure about it now. I kept myself aloof from
+the others and gave up my heart to the old sweet, bitter memories; I did
+not even go to church on Sundays. But all the rest went; our Lady's
+influence was as great as ever. I could hear them singing; they sang
+better now that they could have the door open; the pent-up feeling used
+to stifle them. The time for the bateaux drew near, and I noticed that
+several of the men were hard at work packing the furs in bales, a job
+usually left to the _voyageurs_ who came with the boats. 'What's that
+for?' I asked.
+
+'You don't suppose we're going to have those bateaux rascals camping on
+Little Fishing, do you?' said black Andy, scornfully. 'Where are your
+wits, Reub?'
+
+'And they packed every skin, rafted them all over to the mainland, and
+waited there patiently for days, until the train of slow boats came
+along and took off the bales; then they came back in triumph. 'Now we're
+secure for another six months,' they said, and began to lay out a park,
+and gardens for every house. The Lady was fond of flowers; the whole
+town burst into blossom. The Lady liked green grass; all the clearing
+was soon tufted over like a lawn. The men tried the ice-cold lake every
+day, waiting anxiously for the time when they could bathe. There was no
+end to their cleanliness; Black Andy had grown almost white again, and
+Frenchy's hair shone like oiled silk.
+
+'The Lady stayed on, and all went well. But, gradually, there came a
+discovery. The Lady was changing,--had changed! Gradually, slowly, but
+none the less distinctly to the eyes that knew her every eyelash. A
+little more hair was visible over the white brow; there was a faint
+color in the cheeks, a quicker step; the clear eyes were sometimes
+downcast now, the steady voice softer, the words at times faltering. In
+the early summer the white cap vanished, and she stood among us crowned
+only with her golden hair; one day she was seen through her open door
+sewing on a white robe! The men noted all these things silently; they
+were even a little troubled as at something they did not understand,
+something beyond their reach. Was she planning to leave them?
+
+'It's my belief she's getting ready to ascend right up into heaven,'
+said Salem.
+
+'Salem was a little 'wanting,' as it is called, and the men knew it;
+still, his words made an impression. They watched the Lady with an awe
+which was almost superstitious; they were troubled, and knew not why.
+But the Lady bloomed on. I did not pay much attention to all this; but I
+could not help hearing it. My heart was moody, full of its own sorrows;
+I secluded myself more and more. Gradually I took to going off into the
+mainland forests for days on solitary hunting expeditions. The camp went
+on its way rejoicing; the men succeeded, after a world of trouble, in
+making a fountain which actually played, and they glorified themselves
+exceedingly. The life grew quite pastoral. There was talk of importing a
+cow from the East, and a messenger was sent to the Sault for certain
+choice supplies against the coming winter. But, in the late summers the
+whisper went round again that the Lady had changed, this time for the
+worse. She looked ill, she drooped from day to day; the new life that
+had come to her vanished, but her former life was not restored. She grew
+silent and sad, she strayed away by herself through the woods, she
+scarcely noticed the men who followed her with anxious eyes. Time
+passed, and brought with it an undercurrent of trouble, suspicion, and
+anger. Everything went on as before; not one habit, not one custom was
+altered; both sides seemed to shrink from the first change, however
+slight. The daily life of the camp was outwardly the same, but brooding
+trouble filled every heart. There was no open discussion, men talked
+apart in twos and threes; a gloom rested over everything, but no one
+said, 'What is the matter?'
+
+'There was a man among us,--I have not said much of the individual
+characters of our party, but this man was one of the least esteemed, or
+rather liked; there was not much esteem of any kind at Little Fishing.
+Little was known about him; although the youngest man in the camp, he
+was a mooning, brooding creature, with brown hair and eyes and a
+melancholy face. He wasn't hearty and whole-souled, and yet he wasn't an
+out-and-out rascal; he wasn't a leader, and yet he wasn't follower
+either. He wouldn't be; he was like a third horse, always. There was no
+goodness about him; don't go to fancying that that was the reason the
+men did not like him, he was as bad as they were, every inch! He never
+shirked his work, and they couldn't get a handle on him anywhere; but he
+was just--unpopular. The why and the wherefore are of no consequence
+now. Well, do you know what was the suspicion that hovered over the
+camp? It was this: our Lady loved that man!
+
+'It took three months for all to see it, and yet never a word was
+spoken. All saw, all heard; but they might have been blind and deaf for
+any sign they gave. And the Lady drooped more and more.
+
+'September came, the fifteenth; the Lady lay on her couch, pale and
+thin; the door was open and a bell stood beside her, but there was no
+line of pickets whispering tidings of her state to an anxious group
+outside. The turf in the three streets had grown yellow for want of
+water, the flowers in the little gardens had drooped and died, the
+fountain was choked with weeds, and the interiors of the houses were all
+untidy. It was Sunday, and near the hour for service; but the men
+lounged about, dingy and unwashed.
+
+'"A'n't you going to church?" said Salem, stopping at the door of one of
+the houses; he was dressed in his best, with a flower in his
+button-hole.
+
+'"See him now! See the fool," said Black Andy. 'He's going to church, he
+is! And where's the minister, Salem? Answer me that!'
+
+'Why,--in the church, I suppose,' replied Salem, vacantly.
+
+'"No, she a'n't; not she! She's at home, a-weeping, and a-wailing, and
+a-ger-nashing her teeth," replied Andy with bitter scorn.
+
+'"What for?" said Salem.
+
+'"What for? Why, that's the joke! Hear him, boys; he wants to know what
+for!"
+
+'The loungers laughed,--a loud, reckless laugh.
+
+'"Well, I'm going anyway," said Salem, looking wonderingly from one to
+the other; he passed on and entered the church.
+
+'"I say, boys, let's have a high old time," cried Andy savagely. "Let's
+go back to the old way and have a jolly Sunday. Let's have out the jugs
+and the cards and be free again!"
+
+'The men hesitated; ten months and more of law and order held them back.
+
+'"What are you afraid of?" said Andy. "Not of a canting hypocrite, I
+hope. She's fooled us long enough, I say. Come on!" He brought out a
+table and stools, and produced the long-unused cards and a jug of
+whiskey. 'Strike up, Jack,' he cried; give us old Fiery-Eyes.'
+
+'The Nightingale hesitated. Fiery-Eyes was a rollicking drinking song;
+but Andy put the glass to his lips and his scruples vanished in the
+tempting aroma. He began at the top of his voice, partners were chosen,
+and, trembling with excitement and impatience, like prisoners
+unexpectedly set free, the men gathered around, and made their bets.
+
+'"What born fools we've been," said Black Andy, laying down a card.
+
+'"Yes," replied the Flying Dutchman, "porn fools!" And he followed suit.
+
+'But a thin white hand came down on the bits of colored pasteboard. It
+was our Lady. With her hair disordered, and the spots of fever in her
+cheeks, she stood among us again: but not as of old. Angry eyes
+confronted her, and Andy wrenched the cards from her grasp. "No, my
+Lady," he said, sternly; "never again!"
+
+'The Lady, gazed from one face to the next, and so all around the
+circle; all were dark and sullen. Then she bowed her head upon her hands
+and wept aloud.
+
+'There was a sudden shrinking away on all sides, the players rose, the
+cards were dropped. But the Lady glided away, weeping as she went; she
+entered the church door and the men could see her taking her accustomed
+place on the platform. One by one they followed; Black Andy lingered
+till the last, but he came. The service began, and went on falteringly,
+without spirit, with palpable fears of a total breaking down which never
+quite came; the Nightingale sang almost alone, and made sad work with
+the words; Salem joined in confidently, but did not improve the sense of
+the hymn. The Lady was silent. But when the time for the sermon came she
+rose and her voice burst forth.
+
+'"Men, brothers, what have I done? A change has come over the town, a
+change has come over your hearts. You shun me! What have I done?"
+
+'There was a grim silence; then the Doctor rose in his place and
+answered,--
+
+'"Only this, madam. You have shown yourself to be a woman."
+
+'"And what did you think me?"
+
+'"A saint."
+
+'"God forbid!" said the Lady, earnestly. "I never thought myself one."
+
+'"I know that well. But you were a saint to us; hence your influence. It
+is gone."
+
+'"Is it all gone?" asked the Lady, sadly.
+
+'"Yes. Do not deceive yourself; we have never been one whit better save
+through our love for you. We held you as something high above ourselves;
+we were content to worship you."
+
+'"O no, not me!" said the Lady, shuddering.
+
+'"Yes, you, you alone! But--our idol came down among us and showed
+herself to be but common flesh and blood! What wonder that we stand
+aghast? What wonder that our hearts are bitter? What wonder (worse than
+all!) that when the awe has quite vanished, there is strife for the
+beautiful image fallen from its niche?"
+
+'The Doctor ceased, and turned away. The Lady stretched out her hands
+towards the others; her face was deadly pale, and there was a bewildered
+expression in her eyes.
+
+'"O, ye for whom I have prayed, for whom I have struggled to obtain a
+blessing,--ye whom I have loved so,--do ye desert me thus?" she cried.
+
+'"You have deserted us," answered a voice.
+
+'"I have not."
+
+'"You have," cried Black Andy, pushing to the front. 'You love that
+Mitchell! Deny it if you dare!'
+
+'There was an irrepressible murmur, then a sudden hush. The angry
+suspicion, the numbing certainty had found voice at last; the secret was
+out. All eyes, which had at first closed with the shock, were now fixed
+upon the solitary woman before them; they burned like coals.
+
+'"Do I?" murmured the Lady, with a strange questioning look that turned
+from face to face,--"do I?--Great God! I do." She sank upon her knees
+and buried her face in her trembling hands. "The truth has come to me at
+last,--I do!"
+
+'Her voice was a mere whisper, but every ear heard it, and every eye saw
+the crimson rise to the forehead and redden the white throat.
+
+'For a moment there was silence, broken only by the hard breathing of
+the men. Then the Doctor spoke.
+
+'"Go out and bring him in," he cried. "Bring in this Mitchell! It seems
+he has other things to do,--the blockhead!"
+
+'Two of the men hurried out.
+
+'"He shall not have her," shouted Black Andy. "My knife shall see to
+that!" And he pressed close to the platform. A great tumult arose, men
+talked angrily and clinched their fists, voices rose and fell together.
+"He shall not have her,--Mitchell! Mitchell!"
+
+'"The truth is, each one of you wants her himself," said the Doctor.
+
+'There was a sudden silence, but every man eyed his neighbor jealously.
+Black Andy stood in front, knife in hand, and kept guard. The Lady had
+not moved; she was kneeling with her face buried in her hands.
+
+'"I wish to speak to her," said the Doctor, advancing.
+
+'"You shall not," cried Andy, fiercely interposing.
+
+'"You fool! I love her this moment ten thousand times more than you do.
+But do you suppose I would so much as touch a woman who loved another
+man?"
+
+'The knife dropped; the Doctor passed on and took his place on the
+platform by the Lady's side. The tumult began again, for Mitchell was
+seen coming in the door between his two keepers.
+
+'"Mitchell! Mitchell!" rang angrily through the church.
+
+'"Look, woman!" said the Doctor, bending over the kneeling figure at his
+side. She raised her head and saw the wolfish faces below.
+
+'"They have had ten months of your religion," he said.
+
+'It was his revenge. Bitter, indeed; but he loved her.
+
+'In the mean time the man Mitchell was hauled and pushed and tossed
+forward to the platform by rough hands that longed to throttle him on
+the way. At last, angry himself, but full of wonder, he confronted them,
+this crowd of comrades suddenly turned madmen! "What does this mean?" he
+asked.
+
+'"Mean! mean!" shouted the men; "a likely story! He asks what this
+means!" And they laughed boisterously.
+
+'The Doctor advanced. 'You see this woman,' he said.
+
+'"I see our Lady."
+
+'"Our Lady no longer; only a woman like any other,--weak and fickle.
+Take her,--but begone."
+
+'"Take her!" repeated Mitchell, bewildered.--"take our Lady! And where?"
+
+'"Fool! Liar! Blockhead!" shouted the crowd below.
+
+'"The truth is simply this, Mitchell," continued the Doctor, quietly.
+"We herewith give you up our Lady,--ours no longer; for she has just
+confessed, openly confessed, that she loves you."
+
+'Mitchell started back. "Loves me!"
+
+'"Yes."
+
+'Black Andy felt the blade of his knife. "He'll never have her alive,"
+he muttered.
+
+'"But," said Mitchell, bluntly confronting the Doctor, "I don't want
+her."
+
+'"You don't want her?"
+
+'"I don't love her."
+
+'"You don't love her?"
+
+'"Not in the least," he replied, growing angry, perhaps at himself.
+"What is she to me? Nothing. A very good missionary, no doubt; but _I_
+don't fancy woman-preachers. You may remember that _I_ never gave in to
+her influence; _I_ was never under her thumb. _I_ was the only man in
+Little Fishing who cared nothing for her!"
+
+'And that is the secret of _her_ liking,' murmured the Doctor. 'O woman!
+woman! the same the world over!'
+
+'In the mean time the crowd had stood stupefied.
+
+'"He does not love her!" they said to each other; "he does not want
+her!"
+
+'Andy's black eyes gleamed with joy; he swung himself up on to the
+platform. Mitchell stood there with face dark and disturbed, but he did
+not flinch. Whatever his faults, he was no hypocrite. 'I must leave this
+to-night,' he said to himself, and turned to go. But quick as a flash
+our Lady sprang from her knees and threw herself at his feet. 'You are
+going,' she cried. 'I heard what you said,--you do not love me! But take
+me with you! Let me be your servant--your slave--anything--anything, so
+that I am not parted from you, my lord and master, my only, only love!'
+
+'She clasped his ankles with her thin, white hands, and laid her face on
+his dusty shoes.
+
+'The whole audience stood dumb before this manifestation of a great
+love. Enraged, bitter, jealous as was each heart, there was not a man
+but would at that moment have sacrificed his own love that she might be
+blessed. Even Mitchell, in one of those rare spirit-flashes when the
+soul is shown bare in the lightning, asked himself, 'Can I not love her?
+But the soul answered, 'No.' He stooped, unclasped the clinging hands,
+and turned resolutely away.'
+
+'"You are a fool," said the Doctor. 'No other woman will ever love you
+as she does.'
+
+'"I know it," replied Mitchell.
+
+'He stepped down from the platform and crossed the church, the silent
+crowd making a way for him as he passed along; he went out in the
+sunshine, through the village, down towards the beach,--they saw him no
+more.
+
+'The Lady had fainted. The men bore her back to the lodge and tended her
+with gentle care one week,--two weeks,--three weeks. Then she died.
+
+'They were all around her; she smiled upon them all, and called them all
+by name, bidding them farewell. 'Forgive me,' she whispered to the
+Doctor. The Nightingale sang a hymn, sang as he had never sung before.
+Black Andy knelt at her feet. For some minutes she lay scarcely
+breathing; then suddenly she opened her fading eyes. 'Friends,' she
+murmured, 'I am well punished. I thought myself holy,--I held myself
+above my kind,--but God has shown me I am the weakest of them all.'
+
+'The next moment she was gone.
+
+'The men buried her with tender hands. Then in a kind of blind fury
+against Fate, they tore down her empty lodge and destroyed its every
+fragment; in their grim determination they even smoothed over the ground
+and planted shrubs and bushes, so that the very location might be lost.
+But they did not stay to see the change. In a month the camp broke up of
+itself, the town was abandoned, and the island deserted for good and
+all; I doubt whether any of the men ever came back or even stopped when
+passing by. Probably I am the only one. Thirty years ago,--thirty years
+ago!'
+
+'That Mitchell was a great fool,' I said, after a long pause. 'The
+Doctor was worth twenty of him; for that matter, so was Black Andy. I
+only hope the fellow was well punished for his stupidity.'
+
+'He was.'
+
+'O, you kept track of him, did you?'
+
+'Yes. He went back into the world, and the woman he loved repulsed him a
+second time, and with even more scorn than before.'
+
+'Served him right.'
+
+'Perhaps so; but after all, what could he do? Love is not made to order.
+He loved one, not the other; that was his crime. Yet,--so strange a
+creature is man,--he came back after thirty years, just to see our
+Lady's grave.'
+
+'What! Are you--'
+
+'I am Mitchell,--Reuben Mitchell.'
+
+
+
+
+MACARIUS THE MONK.
+
+BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
+
+
+    In the old days, while yet the church was young,
+    And men believed that praise of God was sung
+    In curbing self as well as singing psalms,
+    There lived a monk, Macarius by name,
+    A holy man, to whom the faithful came
+    With hungry hearts to hear the wonderous Word.
+    In sight of gushing springs and sheltering palms,
+    He lived upon the desert: from the marsh
+    He drank the brackish water, and his food
+    Was dates and roots,--and all his rule was harsh,
+    For pampered flesh in those days warred with good,
+
+    From those who came in scores a few there were
+    Who feared the devil more than fast and prayer,
+    And these remained and took the hermit's vow.
+    A dozen saints there grew to be; and now
+    Macarius, happy, lived in larger care.
+    He taught his brethren all the lore he knew,
+    And as they learned, his pious rigors grew.
+    His whole intent was on the spirit's goal:
+    He taught them silence--words disturb the soul;
+    He warned of joys, and bade them pray for sorrow,
+    And be prepared to-day for death to-morrow;
+    To know that human life alone was given
+    To test the souls of those who merit heaven;
+    He bade the twelve in all things be as brothers,
+    And die to self, to live and work for others.
+    "For so," he said, "we save our love and labors,
+    And each one gives his own and takes his neighbor's."
+
+    Thus long he taught, and while they silent heard,
+    He prayed for fruitful soil to hold the word.
+
+    One day, beside the marsh they labored long,--
+    For worldly work makes sweeter sacred song,--
+    And when the cruel sun made hot the sand,
+    And Afric's gnats the sweltering face and hand
+    Tormenting stung, a passing traveller stood
+    And watched the workers by the reeking flood.
+    Macarius, nigh, with heat and toil was faint;
+    The traveller saw, and to the suffering saint
+    A bunch of luscious grapes in pity threw.
+    Most sweet and fresh and fair they were to view,
+    A generous cluster, bursting-rich with wine.
+    Macarius longed to taste. "The fruit is mine,"
+    He said, and sighed; "but I, who daily teach,
+    Feel now the bond to practice as I preach."
+    He gave the cluster to the nearest one,
+    And with his heavy toil went patient on.
+
+    As one athirst will greet a flowing brim,
+    The tempting fruit made moist the mouth of him
+    Who took the gift; but in the yearning eye
+    Rose brighter light: to one whose lip was dry
+    He gave the grapes, and bent him to his spade.
+    And he who took, unknown to any other,
+    The sweet refreshment handed to a brother.
+    And so, from each to each, till round was made
+    The circuit wholly--when the grapes at last,
+    Untouched and tempting, to Macarius passed.
+
+    "Now God be thanked!" he cried, and ceased to toil;
+    "The seed was good, but better was the soil.
+    My brothers, join with me to bless the day."
+    But, ere they knelt, he threw the grapes away.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Solomon
+
+Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2012 [EBook #38998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and
+the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<p><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a></p>
+
+<h1>SOLOMON.</h1>
+
+<p class="cb">BY<br /><br />
+CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="cb">ODESSA, ONTARIO: JAMES NEISH &amp; SONS, PUBLISHERS.</p>
+
+<p><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a></p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"
+style="border:2px solid black;padding:2%;">
+<tr><td align="center"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a><a href="#SOLOMON"><b>SOLOMON.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#WILHELMINA"><b>WILHELMINA.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#ST_CLAIR_FLATS"><b>ST. CLAIR FLATS</b></a><br />
+<a href="#THE_LADY_OF_LITTLE_FISHING"><b>THE LADY OF LITTLE FISHING.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#MACARIUS_THE_MONK"><b>MACARIUS THE MONK.</b></a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="SOLOMON" id="SOLOMON"></a>SOLOMON.</h2>
+
+<p class="nind">M<small>IDWAY</small> in the eastern part of Ohio lies the coal country; round-topped
+hills there begin to show themselves in the level plain, trending back
+from Lake Erie; afterwards rising higher and higher, they stretch away
+into Pennsylvania and are dignified by the name of Alleghany Mountains.
+But no names have they in their Ohio birthplace, and little do the
+people care for them, save as storehouses for fuel. The roads lie along
+the slow-moving streams, and the farmers ride slowly over them in their
+broad-wheeled wagons, now and then passing dark holes in the bank from
+whence come little carts into the sunshine, and men, like <i>silhouettes</i>,
+walking behind them, with glow-worm lamps fastened in their hat-bands.
+Neither farmers nor miners glance up towards the hilltops; no doubt they
+consider them useless mounds, and, were it not for the coal, they would
+envy their neighbors of the grain-country whose broad, level fields
+stretch unbroken through Central Ohio; as, however, the canal-boats go
+away full, and long lines of coal-cars go away full, and every man's
+coal-shed is full, and money comes back from the great iron-mills of
+Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and Cleveland, the coal country, though unknown
+in a picturesque point of view, continues to grow rich and prosperous.</p>
+
+<p>Yet picturesque it is, and no part more so than the valley where stands
+the village of the quaint German Community on the banks of the
+slow-moving Tuscarawas River. One October day we left the lake behind us
+and journeyed inland, following the water-courses and looking forward
+for the first glimpse of rising ground; blue are the waters of Erie on a
+summer day, red and golden are its autumn sunsets, but so level, so
+deadly level are its shores that, at times, there comes a longing for
+the<a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a> sight of distant hills. Hence our journey. Night found us still in
+the 'Western Reserve.' Ohio has some queer names of her own for portions
+of her territory, the 'Fire Lands,' the 'Donation Grant,' the 'Salt
+Section,' the 'Refugee's Tract,' and the 'Western Reserve' are names
+well known, although not found on the maps. Two days more and we came
+into the coal country; near by were the 'Moravian Lands,' and at the end
+of the last day's ride we crossed a yellow bridge over a stream called
+the 'One-Leg Creek.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have tried in vain to discover the origin of this name,' I said, as
+we leaned out of the carriage to watch the red leaves float down the
+slow tide.</p>
+
+<p>'Create one, then. A one-legged soldier, a farmer's pretty daughter, an
+elopement in a flat-bottomed boat, and a home upon this stream which
+yields its stores of catfish for their support,' suggested Erminia.</p>
+
+<p>'The original legend would be better than that if we could only find it,
+for real life is always better than fiction,' I answered.</p>
+
+<p>'In real life we are all masked; but in fiction the author shows the
+faces as they are, Dora.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not believe we are all masked, Erminia. I can read my friends like
+a printed page.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, the wonderful faith of youth!' said Erminia, retiring upon her
+seniority.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the little church on the hill came into view through a vista
+in the trees. We passed the mill and its flowing race, the blacksmith's
+shop, the great grass meadow, and drew up in front of the quaint hotel
+where the trustees allowed the world's people, if uninquisitive and
+decorous, to remain in the Community for short periods of time, on the
+payment of three dollars per week for each person. This village was our
+favorite retreat, our little hiding-place in the hill-country; at that
+time it was almost as isolated as a solitary island, for the Community
+owned thousands of outlying acres and held no intercourse with the
+surrounding townships. Content with their own, unmindful of the rest of
+the world, these Germans grew steadily richer and richer, solving
+quietly the problem of co-operative labor, while the French and
+Americans worked at it in vain with newspapers, orators, and even cannon
+to aid them. The members of the Community were no ascetic anchorites;
+each<a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a> tiled roof covered a home with a thrifty mother and train of grave
+little children, the girls in short-waisted gowns, kerchiefs, and
+frilled caps, and the boys in tailed coats, long-flapped vests, and
+trousers, as soon as they were able to toddle. We liked them all, we
+liked the life; we liked the mountain-high beds, the coarse snowy linen,
+and the remarkable counterpanes; we liked the cream stewed chicken, the
+Käse-lab, and fresh butter, but, best of all, the hot bretzels for
+breakfast. And let not the hasty city imagination turn to the hard,
+salty, saw-dust cake in the shape of a broken-down figure eight which is
+served with lager-beer in saloons and gardens. The Community bretzel was
+of a delicate flaky white in the inside, shading away into a
+golden-brown crust of crisp involutions, light as a feather, and flanked
+by little pats of fresh, unsalted butter, and a deep-blue cup wherein
+the coffee was hot, the cream yellow, and the sugar broken lumps from
+the old-fashioned loaf, now alas! obsolete.</p>
+
+<p>We stayed among the simple people and played at shepherdesses and
+pastorellas; we adopted the hours of the birds, we went to church on
+Sunday and sang German chorals as old as Luther. We even played at work
+to the extent of helping gather apples, eating the best, and riding home
+on top of the loaded four-horse wains. But one day we heard of a new
+diversion, a sulphur-spring over the hills about two miles from the
+hotel on land belonging to the Community; and, obeying the fascination
+which earth's native medicines exercise over all earth's children, we
+immediately started in search of the nauseous spring. The road wound
+over the hill, past one of the apple-orchards, where the girls were
+gathering the red fruit, and then down a little declivity where the
+track branched off to the Community coal-mine; then a solitary stretch
+through the thick woods, a long hill with a curve, and at the foot a
+little dell with a patch of meadow, a brook, and a log-house with
+overhanging root, a forlorn house unpainted and desolate. There was not
+even the blue door which enlivened many of the Community dwellings.
+'This looks like the huts of the Black Forest,' said Erminia. 'Who would
+have supposed that we should find such an antique in Ohio!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am confident it was built by the M. B.'s,' I replied. 'They tramped,
+you know, extensively through the State,<a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a> burying axes and leaving every
+now and then a mastodon behind them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, if the Mound-Builders selected this site they showed good taste,'
+said Erminia, refusing, in her afternoon indolence, the argumentum
+nonsensicum with which we were accustomed to enliven our conversation.
+It was, indeed, a lovely spot,&mdash;the little meadow, smooth and bright as
+green velvet, the brook chattering over the pebbles, and the hills, gay
+in red and yellow foliage, rising abruptly on all sides. After some
+labor we swung open the great gate and entered the yard, crossed the
+brook on a mossy plank, and followed the path through the grass towards
+the lonely house. An old shepherd-dog lay at the door of a dilapidated
+shed, like a block-house, which had once been a stable; he did not bark,
+but, rising slowly, came along beside us,&mdash;a large, gaunt animal that
+looked at us with such melancholy eyes that Erminia stooped to pat him.
+Ermine had a weakness for dogs; she herself owned a wild beast of the
+dog kind that went by the name of the 'Emperor Trajan'; and, accompanied
+by this dignitary, she was accustomed to stroll up the avenues of C&mdash;&mdash;,
+lost in maiden meditations.</p>
+
+<p>We drew near the house and stepped up on the sunken piazza, but no signs
+of life appeared. The little loophole windows were pasted over with
+paper, and the plank door had no latch or handle. I knocked, but no one
+came. 'Apparently it is a haunted house, and that dog is the spectre,' I
+said, stepping back.</p>
+
+<p>'Knock three times,' suggested Ermine; 'that is what they always do in
+ghost-stories.'</p>
+
+<p>'Try it yourself. My knuckles are not cast-iron.'</p>
+
+<p>Ermine picked up a stone and began tapping on the door. 'Open sesame,'
+she said, and it opened.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the dog slunk away to his block-house and a woman confronted
+us, her dull face lighting up as her eyes ran rapidly over our attire
+from head to foot. 'Is there a sulphur-spring here?' I asked. 'We would
+like to try the water.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it's here fast enough in the back hall. Come in, ladies; I'm right
+proud to see you. From the city, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'From C&mdash;&mdash;,' I answered; 'we are spending a few days in the Community.'</p>
+
+<p>Our hostess led the way through the little hall, and throwing open a
+back door pulled up a trap in the floor, and there we<a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a> saw the
+spring,&mdash;a shallow well set in stones, with a jar of butter cooling in
+its white water. She brought a cup, and we drank. 'Delicious,' said
+Ermine. 'The true, spoiled-egg flavor! Four cups is the minimum
+allowance, Dora.'</p>
+
+<p>'I reckon it is good for the insides,' said the woman, standing with arms
+akimbo and staring at us. She was a singular creature, with large black
+eyes, Roman nose, and a mass of black hair tightly knotted on the top of
+her head, but pinched and gaunt; her yellow forehead was wrinkled with a
+fixed frown, and her thin lips drawn down in permanent discontent. Her
+dress was a shapeless linsey-woolsey gown, and home-made list slippers
+covered her long, lank feet 'Be that the fashion?' she asked, pointing
+to my short, closely fitting walking-dress.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' I answered; 'do you like it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it does for you, sis, because you're so little and peaked-like,
+but it wouldn't do for me. The other lady, now, don't wear nothing like
+that; is she even with the style, too?'</p>
+
+<p>'There is such a thing as being above the style, madam,' replied Ermine,
+bending to dip up glass number two.</p>
+
+<p>'Our figgers is a good deal alike,' pursued the woman; 'I reckon that
+fashion ud suit me best.'</p>
+
+<p>Willowy Erminia glanced at the stick-like hostess. 'You do me honor,'
+she said, suavely. 'I shall consider myself fortunate, madam, if you
+will allow me to send you patterns from C&mdash;&mdash;. What are we if not well
+dressed?'</p>
+
+<p>'You have a fine dog,' I began hastily, fearing lest the great, black
+eyes should penetrate the sarcasm; 'what is his name?'</p>
+
+<p>'A stupid beast! He's none of mine; belongs to my man.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my man. He works in the coal-mine over the hill.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have no children?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not a brat. Glad of it, too.'</p>
+
+<p>'You must be lonely,' I said, glancing around the desolate house. To my
+surprise suddenly the woman burst into a flood of tears, and sinking
+down on the floor she rocked from side to side, sobbing, and covering
+her face with her bony hands.</p>
+
+<p>'What can be the matter with her?' I said in alarm; and, in my
+agitation, I dipped up some sulphur-water and held it to her lips.</p>
+
+<p>'Take away the nasty smelling stuff,&mdash;I hate it!' she cried, pushing the
+cup angrily from her.<a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a></p>
+
+<p>Ermine looked on in silence for a moment or two, then she took off her
+neck-tie, a bright-colored Roman scarf, and threw it across the trap
+into the woman's lap. 'Do me the favor to accept that trifle, madame,'
+she said, in her soft voice.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's sobs ceased as she saw the ribbon; she fingered it with one
+hand in silent admiration, wiped her wet face with the skirt of her
+gown, and then suddenly disappeared into an adjoining room, closing the
+door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think she is crazy?' I whispered.</p>
+
+<p>'O no; merely pensive.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, Ermine! But why did you give her that ribbon?'</p>
+
+<p>'To develop her æsthetic taste,' replied my cousin, finishing her last
+glass, and beginning to draw on her delicate gloves.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately I began gulping down my neglected dose; but so vile was the
+odor that some time was required for the operation, and in the midst of
+my struggles our hostess re-appeared. She had thrown on an old dress of
+plaid delaine, a faded red ribbon was tied over her head, and around her
+sinewed throat reposed the Roman scarf pinned with a glass brooch.</p>
+
+<p>'Really, madam, you honor us,' said Ermine, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'Thankee, marm. It's so long since I've had on anything but that old
+bag, and so long since I've seen anything but them Dutch girls over to
+the Community, with their wooden shapes and wooden shoes, that it sorter
+come over me all 't onct what a miserable life I've had. You see, I
+ain't what I looked like; now I've dressed up a bit I feel more like
+telling you that I come of good Ohio stock, without a drop of Dutch
+blood. My father, he kep' store in Sandy, and I had everything I wanted
+until I must needs get crazy over Painting Sol at the Community. Father,
+he wouldn't hear to it, and so I ran away; Sol, he turned out good for
+nothing to work, and so here I am, yer see, in spite of all his pictures
+making me out the Queen of Sheby.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is your husband an artist?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'No, miss. He's a coal-miner, he is. But he used to like to paint me all
+sorts of ways. Wait, I'll show yer.' Going up the rough stairs that led
+into the attic, the woman came back after a moment with a number of
+sheets of drawing-paper which she hung up along the walls with pins for
+our inspection. They were all portraits of the same face, with brick-red
+cheeks, enormous black eyes, and a profusion of shining black hair<a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>
+hanging down over plump white shoulders; the costumes were various, but
+the faces were the same. I gazed in silence, seeing no likeness to
+anything earthly. Erminia took out her glasses and scanned the pictures
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yourself, madam, I perceive' she said, much to my surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, 'm, that's me,' replied our hostess, complacently. 'I never was
+like those yellow-haired girls over to the Community. Sol allers said my
+face was real rental.'</p>
+
+<p>'Rental?' I repeated, inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oriental, of course,' said Ermine. 'Mr.&mdash;Mr. Solomon is quite right.
+May I ask the names of these characters, madam?'</p>
+
+<p>'Queen of Sheby, Judy, Ruth, Esthy, Po-co-hon-tus, Goddess-aliberty,
+Sunset, and eight Octobers, them with the grapes. Sunset's the one with
+the red paint behind it like clouds.'</p>
+
+<p>'Truly a remarkable collection,' said Ermine. 'Does Mr. Solomon devote
+much time to his art?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, not now. He couldn't make a cent out of it, so he's took to digging
+coal. He painted all them when we was first married, and he went a
+journey all the way to Cincinnati to sell 'em. First he was going to buy
+journey all the way to Cincinnati to sell 'em. First he was going to buy
+me a silk dress and some ear-rings, and, after that, a farm. But pretty
+soon home he come on a canal-boat, without a shilling, and a bringing
+all the pictures back with him! Well, then he tried most everything, but
+he never could keep to any one trade, for he'd just as lief quit work in
+the middle of the forenoon and go to painting; no boss 'll stand that,
+you know. We kep' a going down, and I had to sell the few things my
+father give me when he found I was married whether or no,&mdash;my chany, my
+feather-beds, and my nice clothes, piece by piece. I held on to the big
+looking' glass for four years, but at last it had to go, and then I just
+gave up and put on a linsey-woolsey gown. When a girl's spirit's once
+broke, she don't care for nothing, you know; so, when the Community
+offered to take Sol back as coal-digger, I just said, "Go," and we
+come.' Here she tried to smear the tears away with her bony hands, and
+gave a low groan.</p>
+
+<p>'Groaning probably relieves you,' observed Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, 'm. It's kinder company like, when I'm all alone. But you see it's
+hard on the prettiest girl in Sandy to have to live in this lone lorn
+place. Why, ladies, you mightn't believe it, but I had open-work
+stockings, and feathers in my winter<a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a> bunnets before I was married!' And
+the tears broke forth afresh.</p>
+
+<p>'Accept my handkerchief,' said Ermine; 'it will serve your purpose
+better than fingers.'</p>
+
+<p>The woman took the dainty cambric and surveyed it curiously, held at
+arm's length. 'Reg'lar thistle-down, now, ain't it?' she said; 'and
+smells like a locust-tree blossom.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Solomon, then, belonged to the Community?' I asked, trying to gather
+up the threads of the story.</p>
+
+<p>'No he didn't either; he's no Dutchman, I reckon, he's a Lake County
+man, born near Painesville, he is.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you spoke as though he had been in the Community.'</p>
+
+<p>'So he had; he didn't belong, but he worked for 'em since he was a boy,
+did middling well, in spite of the painting, until one day, when he come
+over to Sandy on a load of wood and seen me standing at the door. That
+was the end of him,' continued the woman, with an air of girlish pride;
+'he couldn't work no more for thinking of me.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Où la vanité va-t-elle se nicher?</i>' murmured Ermine, rising. 'Come,
+Dora, it is time to return.'</p>
+
+<p>As I hastily finished my last cup of sulphur water, our hostess followed
+Ermine towards the door. 'Will you have your handkercher back, marm?'
+she said, holding it out reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>'It was a free gift, madam,' replied my cousin; 'I wish you a good
+afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Say, will yer be coming again to-morrow?' asked the woman as I took my
+departure.</p>
+
+<p>'Very likely; good by.'</p>
+
+<p>The door closed, and then, but not till then, the melancholy dog joined
+us and stalked behind until we had crossed the meadow and reached the
+gate. We passed out and turned up the hill; but looking back we saw the
+outline of the woman's head at the upper window, and the dog's head at
+the bars, both watching us out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening there came a cold wind down from the north, and the
+parlor, with its primitive ventilators, square openings in the side of
+the house, grew chilly. So a great fire of soft coal was built in the
+broad Franklin stove, and before its blaze we made good cheer, nor
+needed the one candle which flickered on the table behind us. Cider
+fresh from the mill, carded ginger-bread<a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>, and new cheese crowned the
+scene, and during the evening came a band of singers, the young people
+of the Community, and sang for us the song of the Lorelei, accompanied
+by home-made violins and flageolets. At length we were left alone, the
+candle had burned out, the house door was barred, and the peaceful
+Community was asleep; still we two sat together with our feet upon the
+hearth, looking down into the glowing coals.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">'Ich weisz nicht was soll es bedeuten</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Dasz ich so traurig bin,'</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>I said, repeating the opening lines of the Lorelei; 'I feel absolutely
+blue to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'The memory of the sulphur-woman,' suggested Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>'Sulphur-woman! What a name!'</p>
+
+<p>'Entirely appropriate, in my opinion.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor thing! How she longed with a great longing for the finery of her
+youth in Sandy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose from those barbarous pictures that she was originally in the
+flesh,' mused Ermine; 'at present she is but a bony outline.'</p>
+
+<p>'Such as she is, however, she has had her romance,' I answered. 'She is
+quite sure that there was one to love her; then let come what may, she
+has had her day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Misquoting Tennyson on such a subject!' said Ermine, with disdain.</p>
+
+<p>'A man's a man for all that and a woman's a woman too,' I retorted. 'You
+are blind, cousin, blinded with pride. That woman has had her tragedy,
+as real and bitter as any that can come to us.'</p>
+
+<p>'What have you to say for the poor man, then!' exclaimed Ermine, rousing
+to the contest. 'If there is a tragedy at the sulphur-house, it belongs
+to the sulphur-man, not to the sulphur-woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is not a sulphur-man, he is a coal-man; keep to your bearings,
+Ermine.'</p>
+
+<p>'I tell you,' pursued my cousin, earnestly, 'that I pitied that unknown
+man with inward tears all the while I sat by that trap door. Depend upon
+it, he had his dream, his ideal; and this country girl with her great
+eyes and wealth of hair represented the beautiful to his hungry soul. He
+gave his whole<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a> life and hope into her hands, and woke to find his
+goddess a common wooden image.'</p>
+
+<p>'Waste sympathy upon a coal-miner!' I said, imitating my cousin's former
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>'If any one is blind, it is you,' she answered, with gleaming eyes.
+'That man's whole history stood revealed in the selfish complainings of
+that creature. He had been in the Community from boyhood, therefore of
+course he had no chance to learn life, to see its art-treasures. He has
+been shipwrecked, poor soul; hopelessly shipwrecked.'</p>
+
+<p>'She too, Ermine.'</p>
+
+<p>'She!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. If he loved pictures, she loved her chany and her feather-beds,
+not to speak of the big looking-glass. No doubt she had other lovers,
+and might have lived in a red brick farmhouse with ten unopened front
+windows and a blistered front door. The wives of men of genius are
+always to be pitied; they do not soar into the crowd of feminine
+admirers who circle round the husband, and they are therefore called
+'grubs,' 'worms of the earth,' 'drudges,' and other sweet titles.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense,' said Ermine, tumbling the arched coals into chaos with the
+poker; 'it's after midnight, let us go up stairs.' I knew very well that
+my beautiful cousin enjoyed the society of several poets, painters,
+musicians, and others of that ilk, without concerning herself about
+their stay-at-home wives.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the winds were out in battle array, howling over the
+Strasburg hill, raging up and down the river, and whirling the colored
+leaves wildly along the lovely road to the One-Leg Creek. Evidently
+there could be no rambling in the painted woods that day, so we went
+over to old Fritz's shop, played on his home-made piano, inspected the
+woolly horse who turned his crank patiently in an underground den, and
+set in motion all the curious little images which the carpenter's deft
+fingers had wrought. Fritz belonged to the Community, and knew nothing
+of the outside world; he had a taste for mechanism, which showed itself
+in many labor-saving devices, and with it all he was the roundest,
+kindest little man, with bright eyes like a canary-bird.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know Solomon the coal-miner?' asked Ermine, in her correct,
+well-learned German.<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Sol Bangs? Yes, I know him,' replied Fritz in his Würtemburg dialect.</p>
+
+<p>'What kind of a man is he?'</p>
+
+<p>'Good for nothing,' replied Fritz, placidly.</p>
+
+<p>'Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'Wrong here'; tapping his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know his wife?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'What kind of a woman is she?'</p>
+
+<p>'Too much tongue. Women must not talk much.'</p>
+
+<p>'Old Fritz touched us both there,' I said, as we ran back laughing to
+the hotel through the blustering wind. 'In his opinion, I suppose, we
+have the popular verdict of the township upon our two <i>protégés</i>, the
+sulphur-woman and her husband.'</p>
+
+<p>The next day opened calm, hazy, and warm, the perfection of Indian
+summer; the breezy hill was outlined in purple, and the trees glowed in
+rich colors. In the afternoon we started for the sulphur-spring without
+shawls or wraps, for the heat was almost oppressive; we loitered on the
+way through the still woods, gathering the tinted leaves, and wondering
+why no poet has yet arisen to celebrate in fit words the glories of the
+American autumn. At last we reached the turn whence the lonely house
+came into view, and at the bars we saw the dog awaiting us.</p>
+
+<p>'Evidently the sulphur-woman does not like that melancholy animal,' I
+said, as we applied our united strength to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>'Did you ever know a woman of limited mind who liked a large dog?'
+replied Ermine. 'Occasionally such a woman will fancy a small cur; but
+to appreciate a large, noble dog requires a large, noble mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense with your dogs and minds,' I said, laughing, 'Wonderful! There
+is a curtain.'</p>
+
+<p>It was true. The paper had been removed from one of the windows, and in
+its place hung some white drapery, probably part of a sheet rigged as a
+curtain.</p>
+
+<p>Before we reached the piazza the door opened, and our hostess appeared.
+'Glad to see yer, ladies,' she said. 'Walk right in this way to the
+keeping room.'</p>
+
+<p>The dog went away to his block-house, and we followed the woman into a
+room on the right of the hall; there were three<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a> rooms, beside the attic
+above. An Old-World German stove of brick-work occupied a large portion
+of the space, and over it hung a few tins, and a clock whose pendulum
+swung outside; a table, a settle, and some stools completed the
+furniture; but on the plastered walls were two rude brackets, one
+holding a cup and saucer of figured china, and the other surmounted by a
+large bunch of autumn leaves, so beautiful in themselves and so
+exquisitely arranged that we crossed the room to admire them.</p>
+
+<p>'Sol fixed 'em, he did,' said the sulphur-woman; 'he seen me setting
+things to rights, and he would do it. I told him they was trash, but he
+made me promise to leave 'em alone in case you should call again.'</p>
+
+<p>'Madam Bangs, they would adorn a palace,' said Ermine, severely.</p>
+
+<p>'The cup is pretty too,' I observed, seeing the woman's eyes turn that
+way.</p>
+
+<p>'It's the last of my chany' she answered, with pathos in her
+voice,&mdash;'the very last piece.'</p>
+
+<p>As we took our places on the settle we noticed the brave attire of our
+hostess. The delaine was there; but how altered! Flounces it had,
+skimped, but still flounces, and at the top was a collar of crochet
+cotton reaching nearly to the shoulders; the hair, too, was braided in
+imitation of Ermine's sunny coronet, and the Roman scarf did duty as a
+belt around the large flat waist.</p>
+
+<p>'You see she tries to improve,' I whispered, as Mrs. Bangs went into the
+hall to get some sulphur-water for us.</p>
+
+<p>'Vanity,' answered Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>We drank our dose slowly, and our hostess talked on and on. Even I, her
+champion, began to weary of her complainings. 'How dark it is!' said
+Ermine at last, rising and drawing aside the curtain. 'See, Dora, a
+storm is close upon us.'</p>
+
+<p>We hurried to the door, but one look at the black cloud was enough to
+convince us that we could not reach the Community hotel before it would
+break, and somewhat drearily we returned to the keeping-room, which grew
+darker and darker, until our hostess was obliged to light a candle.
+'Reckon you'll have to stay all night; I'd like to have you ladies,' she
+said. 'The Community ain't got nothing covered to send after you, except
+the old king's coach, and I misdoubt they won't let that out in<a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a> such a
+storm, steps and all. When it begins to rain in this valley, it do rain,
+I can tell you; and from the way it's begun, 't won't stop 'fore
+morning. You just let me send the Roarer over to the mine, he'll tell
+Sol; Sol can tell the Community folks, so they'll know where you be.'</p>
+
+<p>I looked somewhat aghast at this proposal, but Ermine listened to the
+rain upon the roof a moment, and then quietly accepted; she remembered
+the long hills of tenacious red clay and her kid boots were dear to her.</p>
+
+<p>'The Roarer, I presume, is some faithful kobold who bears your message
+to and from the mine,' she said, making herself as comfortable as the
+wooden settle would allow.</p>
+
+<p>The sulphur-woman stared. 'Roarer's Sol's old dog,' she answered,
+opening the door; perhaps one of you will write a bit of a note for him
+to carry in his basket,&mdash;Roarer, Roarer!'</p>
+
+<p>The melancholy dog came slowly in, and stood still while she tied a
+small covered basket around his neck.</p>
+
+<p>Ermine took a leaf from her tablets and wrote a line or two with the
+gold pencil attached to her watch-chain.</p>
+
+<p>'Well now, you do have everything handy, I do declare,' said the woman,
+admiringly.</p>
+
+<p>I glanced at the paper.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'M<small>R</small>. S<small>OLOMON</small> B<small>ANGS</small>: My cousin Theodora Wentworth and myself have
+accepted the hospitality of your house for the night. Will you be
+so good as to send tidings of our safety to the Community, and
+oblige,</p>
+
+<p class="r">E<small>RMINIA</small> S<small>TUART</small>.'</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>The Roarer started obediently out into the rain-storm with his little
+basket; he did not run, but walked slowly, as if the storm was nothing
+compared to his settled melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>'What a note to send to a coal-miner!' I said, during a momentary
+absence of our hostess.</p>
+
+<p>'Never fear; it will be appreciated,' replied Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>'What is this king's carriage of which you spoke?' I asked, during the
+next hour's conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'O, when they first come over from Germany, they had a sort of a king;
+he knew more than the rest, and he lived in that big brick house with
+dormel-winders and a cuperler, that stands next the garden. The carriage
+was hisn, and it had<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a> steps to let down, and curtains and all; they
+don't use it much now he's dead. They're a queer set anyhow! The women
+look like meal-sacks. After Sol seen me, he couldn't abide to look at
+'em.'</p>
+
+<p>Soon after six we heard the great gate creak.</p>
+
+<p>'That's Sol,' said the woman,' and now of course Roarer'll come in and
+track all over my floor.' The hall door opened and a shadow passed into
+the opposite room, two shadows,&mdash;a man and a dog.</p>
+
+<p>'He's going to wash himself now,' continued the wife; 'he's always
+washing himself, just like a horse.'</p>
+
+<p>'New fact in natural history, Dora love,' observed Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>After some moments the miner appeared,&mdash;a tall, stooping figure with
+high forehead, large blue eyes, and long thin yellow hair; there was a
+singularly lifeless expression in his face, and a far-off look in his
+eyes. He gazed about the room in an absent way, as though he scarcely
+saw us. Behind him stalked the Roarer, wagging his tail slowly from side
+to side.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, then, dont yer see the ladies, Sol? Where's yer manners?' said his
+wife, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah,&mdash;yes,&mdash;good evening,' he said, vaguely. Then his wandering eyes
+fell upon Ermine's beautiful face, and fixed themselves there with
+strange intentness.</p>
+
+<p>'You received my note, Mr. Bangs?' said my cousin in her soft voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, surely. You are Erminia,' replied the man, still standing in the
+centre of the room with fixed eyes. The Roarer laid himself down behind
+his master, and his tail still wagging, sounded upon the floor with a
+regular tap.</p>
+
+<p>'Now then, Sol, since you've come home, perhaps you'll entertain the
+ladies while I get supper,' quoth Mrs. Bangs; and forthwith began a
+clatter of pans.</p>
+
+<p>The man passed his long hand abstractedly over his forehead. 'Eh,' he
+said with long-drawn utterance,&mdash;'eh-h? Yes, my rose of Sharon,
+certainly, certainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then why don't you do it!' said the woman, lighting the fire in the
+brick stove.</p>
+
+<p>'And what will the ladies please to do?' he answered, his eyes going
+back to Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>'We will look over your pictures, sir,' said my cousin, rising; 'they
+are in the upper room, I believe.'<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a></p>
+
+<p>A great flush rose in the painter's thin cheeks. 'Will you,' he said
+eagerly,&mdash;'will you? Come!'</p>
+
+<p>'It's a broken-down old hole, ladies; Sol will never let me sweep it
+out. Reckon you'll be more comfortable here,' said Mrs. Bangs, with her
+arms in the flour.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no, my lily of the valley. The ladies will come with me; they will
+not scorn the poor room.'</p>
+
+<p>'A studio is always interesting,' said Ermine, sweeping up the rough
+stairs behind Solomon's candle. The dog followed us, and laid himself
+down on an old mat, as though well accustomed to the place. 'Eh-h, boy,
+you came bravely through the storm with the lady's note.' said his
+master, beginning to light candle after candle. 'See him laugh!'</p>
+
+<p>'Can a dog laugh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly; look at him now. What is that but a grin of happy
+contentment? Don't the Bible say, "grin like a dog"?'</p>
+
+<p>'You seem much attached to the Roarer.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tuscarora, lady, Tuscarora. Yes, I love him well. He has been with me
+through all, he has watched the making of all my pictures; he always
+lies there when I paint.'</p>
+
+<p>By this time a dozen candles were burning on shelves and brackets, and
+we could see all parts of the attic studio. It was but a poor place,
+unfloored in the corners where the roof slanted down, and having no
+ceiling but the dark beams and thatch; hung upon the walls were the
+pictures we had seen, and many others, all crude and high colored, and
+all representing the same face,&mdash;the sulphur-woman in her youth, the
+poor artist's only ideal. He showed us these one by one, handling them
+tenderly, and telling us, in his quaint language, all they symbolized.
+'This is Ruth, and denoteth the power of hope,' he said. 'Behold Judith,
+the queen of revenge. And this dear one is Rachel, for whom Jacob served
+seven years, and they seemed unto him but a day, so well he loved her.'
+The light shone on his pale face, and we noticed the far-off look in his
+eyes, and the long, tapering fingers coming out from the hard-worked
+broad palm. To me it was a melancholy scene, the poor artist with his
+daubs and the dreary attic.</p>
+
+<p>But Ermine seemed eagerly interested; she looked at the staring
+pictures, listened to the explanations, and at last she said gently,
+'Let me show you something of perspective, and<a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a> the part that shadows
+play in a pictured face. Have you any crayons?'</p>
+
+<p>No; the man had only his coarse paints and lumps of charcoal; taking a
+piece of the coal in her delicate hand, my cousin began to work upon a
+sheet of drawing-paper attached to the rough easel. Solomon watched her
+intently, as she explained and demonstrated some of the rules of
+drawing, the lights and shades, and the manner of representing the
+different features and curves. All his pictures were full faces, flat
+and unshaded; Ermine showed him the power of the profile and the
+three-quarter view. I grew weary of watching them, and pressing my face
+against the little window gazed out into the night; steadily the rain
+came down and the hills shut us in like a well. I thought of our home in
+C&mdash;&mdash;, and its bright lights, warmth, company, and life. Why should we
+come masquerading out among the Ohio hills at this late season? And then
+I remembered that it was because Ermine would come; she liked such
+expeditions, and from childhood I had always followed her lead. '<i>Dux
+nascitur</i>, etc., etc.' Turning away from the gloomy night, I looked
+towards the easel again; Solomon's cheeks were deeply flushed, and his
+eyes shone like stars. The lesson went on, the merely mechanical hand
+explaining its art to the ignorant fingers of genius. Ermine had taken
+lessons all her life, but she had never produced an original picture,
+only copies.</p>
+
+<p>At last the lesson was interrupted by a voice from below, 'Sol, Sol,
+supper's ready!' No one stirred until, feeling some sympathy for the
+amount of work which my ears told me had been going on below, I woke up
+the two enthusiasts and took them away from the easel down stairs into
+the keeping-room, where a loaded table and a scarlet hostess bore
+witness to the truth of my surmise. Strange things we ate that night,
+dishes unheard of in towns, but not unpalatable. Ermine had the one
+china cup for her corn-coffee; her grand air always secured her such
+favors. Tuscarora was there and ate of the best, now and then laying his
+shaggy head on the table, and, as his master said, 'smiling at us';
+evidently the evening was his gala time. It was nearly nine when the
+feast was ended, and I immediately proposed retiring to bed, for, having
+but little art enthusiasm, I dreaded a vigil in that dreary attic.
+Solomon looked disappointed, but I ruthlessly carried off Ermine to the
+opposite room, which we afterwards suspected was the apartment of our<a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>
+hosts, freshened and set in order in our honor. The sound of the rain on
+the piazza roof lulled us soon to sleep, in spite of the strange
+surroundings; but more than once I woke and wondered where I was,
+suddenly remembering the lonely house in its lonely valley with a shiver
+of discomfort. The next morning we woke at our usual hour, but some time
+after the miner's departure; breakfast was awaiting us in the
+keeping-room, and our hostess said that an ox-team from the Community
+would come for us before nine. She seemed sorry to part with us, and
+refused any remuneration for our stay; but none the less did we promise
+ourselves to send some dresses and even ornaments from C&mdash;&mdash;, to feed
+that poor, starving love of finery. As we rode away in the ox-cart, the
+Roarer looked wistfully after us through the bars; but his melancholy
+mood was upon him again, and he had not the heart even to wag his tail.</p>
+
+<p>As we were sitting in the hotel parlor, in front of our soft-coal fire
+in the evening of the following day, and discussing whether or no we
+should return to the city within the week, the old landlord entered
+without his broad-brimmed hat,&mdash;an unusual attention, since he was a
+trustee and a man of note in the Community, and removed his hat for no
+one or nothing; we even suspected that he slept in it.</p>
+
+<p>'You know Zolomon Barngs,' he said, slowly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' we answered.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, he's dead. Kilt in de mine.' And putting on the hat, removed, we
+now saw, in respect for death, he left the room suddenly as he had
+entered it. As it happened, we had been discussing the couple, I, as
+usual, contending for the wife, and Ermine, as usual, advocating the
+cause of the husband.</p>
+
+<p>'Let us go out there immediately to see her, poor woman!' I said,
+rising.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, poor man, we will go to him!' said Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>'But the man is dead, cousin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then he shall at least have one kind friendly glance before he is
+carried to his grave,' answered Ermine quietly.</p>
+
+<p>In a short time we set out in the darkness, and dearly did we have to
+pay for the night-ride; no one could understand the motive of our going,
+but money was money, and we could pay for all peculiarities. It was a
+dark night, and the ride seemed endless as the oxen moved slowly on
+through the red-clay mire.<a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a> At last we reached the turn and saw the
+little lonely house with its upper room brightly lighted.</p>
+
+<p>'He is in the studio,' said Ermine; and so it proved. He was not dead,
+but dying; not maimed but poisoned by the gas of the mine, and rescued
+too late for recovery. They had placed him upon the floor on a couch of
+blankets and the dull-eyed Community doctor stood at his side. 'No good,
+no good,' he said; 'he must die.' And then, hearing of the returning
+cart, he left us, and we could hear the tramp of the oxen over the
+little bridge, on their way back to the village.</p>
+
+<p>The dying man's head lay upon his wife's breast, and her arms supported
+him; she did not speak, but gazed at us with a dumb agony in her large
+eyes. Ermine knelt down and took the lifeless hand streaked with
+coal-dust in both her own. 'Solomon,' she said, in her soft, clear
+voice, 'do you know me?'</p>
+
+<p>The closed eyes opened slowly, and fixed themselves upon her face a
+moment: then they turned towards the window, as if seeking something.</p>
+
+<p>'It's the picter he means,' said the wife. 'He sat up most all last
+night a doing it.'</p>
+
+<p>I lighted all the candles, and Ermine brought forward the easel; upon it
+stood a sketch in charcoal wonderful to behold,&mdash;the same face, the face
+of the faded wife, but so noble in its idealized beauty that it might
+have been a portrait of her glorified face in Paradise. It was a
+profile, with the eyes upturned,&mdash;a mere outline, but grand in
+conception and expression. I gazed in silent astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>Ermine said, 'Yes, I knew you could do it, Solomon. It is perfect of its
+kind.' The shadow of a smile stole over the pallid face, and then the
+husband's fading gaze turned upward to meet the wild, dark eyes of the
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>'It's you, Dorcas,' he murmured; 'that's how you looked to me, but I
+never could get it right before.' She bent over him, and silently we
+watched the coming of the shadow of death; he spoke only once, 'My rose
+of Sharon&mdash;' And then in a moment he was gone, the poor artist was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Wild, wild was the grief of the ungoverned heart left behind; she was
+like a mad-woman, and our united strength was needed to keep her from
+injuring herself in her frenzy. I was frightened, but Ermine's strong
+little hands and lithe arms kept her down until, exhausted, she lay
+motionless near her<a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a> dead husband. Then we carried her down stairs and I
+watched by the bedside, while my cousin went back to the studio. She was
+absent some time, and then she came back to keep the vigil with me
+through the long, still night. At dawn the woman woke, and her face
+looked aged in the gray light. She was quiet, and took without a word
+the food we had prepared awkwardly enough, in the keeping-room.</p>
+
+<p>'I must go to him, I must go to him.' she murmured, as we led her back.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Ermine, 'but first let me make you tidy. He loved to see you
+neat.' And with deft, gentle touch she dressed the poor creature,
+arranging the heavy hair so artistically that, for the first time, I saw
+what she might have been, and understood the husband's dream.</p>
+
+<p>'What is that?' I said, as a peculiar sound startled us.</p>
+
+<p>'It's Roarer. He was tied up last night, but I suppose he's gnawed the
+rope,' said the woman. I opened the hall door, and in stalked the great
+dog, smelling his way directly up the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>'O, he must not go!' I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, let him go, he loved his master,' said Ermine; 'we will go too.'
+So silently we all went up into the chamber of death.</p>
+
+<p>The pictures had been taken down from the walls, but the wonderful
+sketch remained on the easel, which had been moved to the head of the
+couch where Solomon lay. His long, light hair was smooth, his face
+peacefully quiet, and on his breast lay the beautiful bunch of autumn
+leaves which he had arranged in our honor. It was a striking
+picture,&mdash;the noble face of the sketch above, and the dead face of the
+artist below. It brought to my mind a design I had once seen, where Fame
+with her laurels came at last to the door of the poor artist and gently
+knocked; but he had died the night before!</p>
+
+<p>The dog lay at his master's feet, nor stirred until Solomon was carried
+out to his grave.</p>
+
+<p>The Community buried the miner in one corner of the lonely little
+meadow. No service had they and no mound was raised to mark the spot,
+for such was their custom; but in the early spring we went down again
+into the valley, and placed a block <a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>of granite over the grave. It bore
+the inscription:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="c">S<small>OLOMON</small>.<br /><br />
+He will finish his work in heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>Strange as it may seem, the wife pined for her artist husband. We found
+her in the Community trying to work, but so aged and bent that we hardly
+knew her. Her large eyes had lost their peevish discontent, and a great
+sadness had taken the place.</p>
+
+<p>'Seems like I couldn't get on without Sol,' she said, sitting with us in
+the hotel parlor after work-hours. 'I kinder miss his voice and all them
+names he used to call me; he got 'em out of the Bible, so they must have
+been good, you know. He always thought everything I did was right, and
+he thought no end of my good looks, too; I suppose I've lost 'em all
+now. He was mighty fond of me; nobody in all the world cares a straw for
+me now. Even Roarer wouldn't stay with me, for all I petted him; he kep'
+a going out to that meader and a lying by Sol, until, one day, we found
+him there dead. He just died of sheer loneliness, I reckon. I sha'n't
+have to stop long I know, because I keep a dreaming of Sol, and he
+always looks at me like he did when I first knew him. He was a beautiful
+boy when I first saw him on that load of wood coming into Sandy. Well,
+ladies, I must go. Thank you kindly for all you've done for me. And say,
+Miss Stuart, when I die you shall have that coal pictur; no one else 'ud
+vally it so much.'</p>
+
+<p>Three months after, while we were at the sea-shore, Ermine received a
+long tin case, directed in a peculiar handwriting; it had been forwarded
+from C&mdash;&mdash;, and contained the sketch and a note from the Community.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>'E. S<small>TUART</small>: The woman Dorcas Bangs died this day. She will be put
+away by the side of her husband, Solomon Bangs. She left the
+enclosed picture, which we hereby send, and which please
+acknowledge by return of mail.</p>
+
+<p class="r">
+'J<small>ACOB</small> B<small>OLL</small>, <i>Trustee</i>.'<br />
+</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>I unfolded the wrappings and looked at the sketch; 'It is indeed
+striking,' I said. 'She must have been beautiful once, poor woman!'<a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Let us hope that at least she is beautiful now, for her husband's sake
+poor man!' replied Ermine.</p>
+
+<p>Even then we could not give up our preferences.<a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="WILHELMINA" id="WILHELMINA"></a>WILHELMINA.</h2>
+
+<p class="nind">'A<small>ND</small> so, Mina, you will not marry the baker?'</p>
+
+<p>'No: I waits for Gustav.'</p>
+
+<p>'How long is it since you have seen him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Three year; it was a three-year regi-mènt.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then he will soon be home?'</p>
+
+<p>'I not know' answered the girl, with a wistful look in her dark eyes, as
+if asking information from the superior being who sat in the skiff,&mdash;a
+being from the outside world where newspapers, the modern Tree of
+Knowledge, were not forbidden.</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps he will re-enlist, and stay three years longer,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, lady,&mdash;six year! It breaks the heart,' answered Wilhelmina.</p>
+
+<p>She was the gardener's daughter, a member of the Community of German
+Separatists who live secluded in one of Ohio's rich valleys, separated
+by their own broad acres and orchard-covered hills from the busy world
+outside; down the valley flows the tranquil Tuscarawas on its way to the
+Muskingum, its slow tide rolling through the fertile bottom-lands
+between stone dikes, and utilized to the utmost extent of carefulness by
+the thrifty brothers, now working a saw-mill on the bank, now sending a
+tributary to the flour-mill across the canal, and now branching off in a
+sparkling race across the valley to turn wheels for two or three
+factories, watering the great grass meadow on the way. We were floating
+on this river in a skiff named by myself Der Fliegende Holländer, much
+to the slow wonder of the Zoarites, who did not understand how a
+Dutchman could, nor why he should, fly. Wilhelmina sat before me, her
+oars trailing in the water. She showed a Nubian head<a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a> above her white
+kerchief: large-lidded soft brown eyes, heavy braids of dark hair,
+creamy skin with, purple tints in the lips and brown shadows under the
+eyes, and a far off expression which even the steady monotonous toil of
+Community life had not been able to efface. She wore the blue dress and
+white kerchief of the society, the quaint little calico bonnet lying
+beside her; she was a small maiden; her slender form swayed in the
+stiff, short-waisted gown, her feet slipped about in the broad shoes,
+and her hands, roughened and browned with garden-work, were yet narrow
+and graceful. From the first we felt sure she was grafted, and not a
+shoot from the Community stalk. But we could learn nothing of her
+origin; the Zoarites are not communicative; they fill each day with
+twelve good hours of labor, and look neither forward nor back. 'She is a
+daughter,' said the old gardener in answer to our questions. 'Adopted?'
+I suggested; but he vouchsafed no answer. I liked the little daughter's
+dreamy face, but she was pale and undeveloped, like a Southern flower
+growing in Northern soil; the rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired Rosines,
+Salomes, and Dorotys, with their broad shoulders and ponderous tread,
+thought this brown changeling ugly, and pitied her in their slow,
+good-natured way.</p>
+
+<p>'It breaks the heart,' said Wilhelmina again, softly, as if to herself.</p>
+
+<p>I repented me of my thoughtlessness. 'In any case he can come back for a
+few days,' I hastened to say. 'What regiment was it?'</p>
+
+<p>'The One Hundred and Seventh, lady.'</p>
+
+<p>I had a Cleveland paper in my basket, and taking it out I glanced over
+the war-news column, carelessly, as one who does not expect to find what
+he seeks. But chance was with us and gave this item: 'The One Hundred
+and Seventh Regiment, O. V. I., is expected home next week. The men will
+be paid off at Camp Chase.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' said Wilhelmina, catching her breath with a half-sob under her
+tightly drawn kerchief&mdash;'ah, mein Gustav!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you will soon see him,' I answered, bending forward to take the
+rough little hand in mine; for I was a romantic wife, and my heart went
+out to all lovers. But the girl did not notice my words or my touch;
+silently she sat, absorbed in her own emotion, her eyes fixed on the
+hilltops far away, as<a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a> though she saw the regiment marching home through
+the blue June sky.</p>
+
+<p>I took the oars and rowed up as far as the inland, letting the skiff
+float back with the current. Other boats were out, filled with
+fresh-faced boys in their high-crowned hats, long-waisted, wide-flapped
+vests of calico, and funny little swallow-tailed coats with buttons up
+under the shoulder-blades; they appeared unaccountably long in front,
+and short behind, these young Zoar brethren. On the vine-covered dike
+were groups of mothers and grave little children, and up in the
+hill-orchards were moving figures, young and old; the whole village was
+abroad in the lovely afternoon, according to their Sunday custom, which
+gave the morning to chorals and a long sermon in the little church, and
+the afternoon to nature, even old Christian, the pastor, taking his
+imposing white fur hat and tasselled cane for a walk through the
+Community fields, with the remark, 'Thus is cheered the heart of man,
+and his countenance refreshed.'</p>
+
+<p>As the sun sank in the, warm western sky, homeward came the villagers
+from the river, the orchards, and the meadows, men, women and children,
+a hardy, simple-minded band, whose fathers, for religion's sake, had
+taken the long journey from Würtemburg across the ocean to this distant
+valley, and made it a garden of rest in the wilderness. We, too, landed,
+and walked up the apple-tree lane towards the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>'The cows come,' said Wilhelmina as we heard a distant, tinkling; 'I
+must go.' But still she lingered. 'Der regi-mènt, it come soon, you
+say?' she asked in a low voice, as though she wanted to hear the good
+news again and again.</p>
+
+<p>'They will be paid off next week; they cannot be later than ten days
+from now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ten day? Ah, mein Gustav,' murmured the little maiden; she turned away
+and tied on her stiff bonnet, furtively wiping off a tear with her prim
+handkerchief folded in a square.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, my child,' I said, following her and stooping to look in her face,
+'what is this?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is nothing; it is for glad,&mdash;for very glad,' said Wilhelmina. Away
+she ran as the first solemn cow came into view, heading the long
+procession meandering slowly towards the stalls. They knew nothing of
+haste, these dignified Community cows; from stall to pasture, from
+pasture to stall, in a<a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a> plethora of comfort, this was their life. The
+silver-haired shepherd came last with his staff and scrip, and the
+nervous shepherd-dog ran hither and thither in the hope of finding some
+cow to bark at, but the comfortable cows moved on in orderly ranks, and
+he was obliged to dart off on a tangent every now and then, and bark at
+nothing, to relieve his feelings. Reaching the paved court-yard each cow
+walked into her own stall, and the milking began. All the girls took
+part in this work, sitting on little stools and singing together as the
+milk frothed up in the tin pails; the pails were emptied into tubs, and
+when the tubs were full the girls bore them on their heads to the dairy,
+where the milk was poured into a huge strainer, a constant procession of
+girls with tubs above and the old milk-mother ladling out as fast as she
+could below. With the beehives near by, it was a realization of the
+Scriptural phrase, 'A land flowing with milk and honey.'</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, after breakfast, I strolled up the still street,
+leaving the Wirthshaus with its pointed roof behind me. On the right
+were some ancient cottages built of crossed timbers filled in with
+plaster; sundials hung on the walls, and each house had its piazza,
+where, when the work of the day was over, the families assembled, often
+singing folk-songs to the music of their home-made flutes and pipes. On
+the left stood the residence of the first pastor, the reverend man who
+had led these sheep to their refuge in the wilds of the New World. It
+was a wide-spreading brick mansion, with a broadside of white-curtained
+windows, an enclosed glass porch, iron railings, and gilded eaves; a
+building so stately among the surrounding cottages, it had gained from
+outsiders the name of the King's Palace, although the good man whose
+grave remains unmarked in the quiet God's Acre, according to the
+Separatist custom, was a father to his people, not a king.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the palace began the Community garden, a large square in the
+centre of the village filled with flowers and fruit adorned with arbors
+and cedar-trees clipped in the form of birds, and enriched with an
+old-style greenhouse whose sliding glasses were viewed with admiration
+by the visitors of thirty years ago, who sent their choice plants
+thither from far and near to be tended through the long, cold
+lake-country winters. The garden, the cedars, and the greenhouse were
+all antiquated, but to me none the less charming. The spring that gushed
+up<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a> in one corner, the old-fashioned flowers in their box-bordered beds,
+larkspur, lady slippers, bachelor's buttons, peonies, aromatic pinks,
+and all varieties of roses, the arbors with red honeysuckle overhead and
+tan bark under foot, were all delightful; and I knew, also, that I
+should find the gardener's daughter at her never-ending task of weeding.
+This time it was the strawberry bed. 'I have come to sit in your
+pleasant garden, Mina,' I said, taking a seat on a shaded bench near the
+bending figure.</p>
+
+<p>'So?' said Wilhelmina in long-drawn interrogation, glancing up shyly
+with a smile. She was a child of the sun, this little maiden, and while
+her blond companions wore always their bonnets or broad-brimmed hats
+over their precise caps, Wilhelmina, as now, constantly discarded these
+coverings and sat in the sun basking like a bird of the tropics. In
+truth, it did not redden her; she was one of those whose coloring comes
+not from without, but within.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you like this work, Mina?'</p>
+
+<p>'O&mdash;so. Good as any.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you like work?'</p>
+
+<p>'Folks must work.' This was, said gravely, as part of the Community
+creed.</p>
+
+<p>'Wouldn't you like to go with me to the city?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; I's better here.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you can see the great world, Mina. You need not work, I will take
+care of you. You shall have pretty dresses; wouldn't you like that?' I
+asked, curious to discover the secret of the Separatist indifference to
+everything outside.</p>
+
+<p>'Nein,' answered the little maiden, tranquilly; 'nein, fräulein. Ich bin
+zufrieden.'</p>
+
+<p>Those three words were the key. 'I am contented.' So were they taught
+from childhood, and&mdash;I was about to say&mdash;they knew no better; but, after
+all, is there anything better to know?</p>
+
+<p>We talked on, for Mina understood English, although many of her mates
+could chatter only in their Würtemberg dialect, whose provincialisms
+confused my carefully learned German; I was grounded in Goethe, well
+read in Schiller, and struggling with Jean Paul, who, fortunately, is
+'der Einzige,' the only; another such would destroy life. At length a
+bell sounded, and forthwith work was laid aside in the fields, the
+workshops,<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a> and the houses, while all partook of a light repast, one of
+the five meals with which the long summer day of toil is broken. Flagons
+of beer had the men afield, with bread and cheese; the women took bread
+and apple-butter. But Mina did not care for the thick slice which the
+thrifty house-mother had provided; she had not the steady unfanciful
+appetite of the Community which eats the same food day after day, as the
+cow eats its grass, desiring no change.</p>
+
+<p>'And the gardener really wishes you to marry Jacob?' I said as she sat
+on the grass near me, enjoying the rest.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Jacob is good,&mdash;always the same.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Gustav?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, mein Gustav! Lady, <i>he</i> is young, tall,&mdash;so tall as tree; he run,
+he sing, his eyes like veilchen there, his hair like gold. If I see him
+not soon, lady, I die! The year so long,&mdash;so long they are. Three year
+without Gustav!' The brown eyes grew dim, and out came the square-folded
+handkerchief, of colored calico for week-days.</p>
+
+<p>'But it will not be long now, Mina.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'He writes to you, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. Gustav knows not to write, he not like school. But he speak through
+the other boys, Ernst the verliebte of Rosine, and Peter of Doroty.'</p>
+
+<p>'The Zoar soldiers were all young men?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; all verliebte. Some are not; they have gone to the Next Country'
+(died).</p>
+
+<p>'Killed in Battle?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; on the berge that looks,&mdash;what you call I not know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lookout Mountain?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes'</p>
+
+<p>'Were the boys volunteers?' I asked, remembering the Community theory of
+non-resistance.</p>
+
+<p>'O yes; they volunteer, Gustav the first. <i>They</i> not drafted,' said
+Wilhelmina, proudly. For these two words so prominent during the war,
+had penetrated even into this quiet little valley.</p>
+
+<p>'But did the trustees approve?'</p>
+
+<p>'Apperouve?'</p>
+
+<p>'I mean did they like it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! they like it not. They talk, they preach in church,<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a> they say 'No.'
+Zoar must give soldiers? So. Then they take money and pay for der
+substitute; but the boys they must not go.'</p>
+
+<p>'But they went in spite of the trustees?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; Gustav first. They go in night, they walk in woods, over the hills
+to Brownville, where is der recruiter. The morning come, they gone!'</p>
+
+<p>'They have been away three years, you say? They have seen the world in
+that time,' I remarked half to myself, as I thought of the strange
+mind-opening and knowledge-gaining of those years to youths brought up
+in the strict seclusion of the Community.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; Gustav have seen the wide world,' answered Wilhelmina with pride.</p>
+
+<p>'But will they be content to step back into the dull routine of Zoar
+life?' I thought; and a doubt came that made me scan more closely the
+face of the girl at my side. To me it was attractive because of its
+possibilities; I was always fancying some excitement that would bring
+the color to the cheeks and full lips, and light up the heavy-lidded
+eyes with soft brilliancy. But would this Gustav see these might-be
+beauties? And how far would the singularly ugly costume offend eyes
+grown accustomed to fanciful finery and gay colors?</p>
+
+<p>'You fully expect to marry Gustav?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'We are verlobt,' answered Mina, not without a little air of dignity.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know. But that was long ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'Verlobt once, verlobt always,' said the little maiden, confidently.</p>
+
+<p>'But why, then, does the gardener speak of Jacob, if you are engaged to
+this Gustav?'</p>
+
+<p>'O, fader he like the old, and Jacob is old, thirty year! His wife is
+gone to the Next Country. Jacob is a brother, too; he write his name in
+the book. But Gustav he not do so; he is free.'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean that the baker has signed the articles, and is a member of the
+Community?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; but the baker is old, very old; thirty year! Gustav not twenty and
+three yet; he come home, then he sign.'</p>
+
+<p>'And have you signed these articles, Wilhelmina?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; all the womens signs.'<a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a></p>
+
+<p>'What does the paper say?'</p>
+
+<p>'Da ich Unterzeichneter,'&mdash;began the girl.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot understand that. Tell me in English.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well; you wants to join the Zoar Community of Separatists; you writes
+your name and says, "Give me house, victual, and clothes for my work and
+I join; and I never fernerer Forderung an besagte Gesellschaft machen
+kann, oder will."'</p>
+
+<p>'Will never make further demand upon said society,' I repeated,
+translating slowly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; that is it.'</p>
+
+<p>'But who takes charge of all the money?'</p>
+
+<p>'The trustees.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't they give you any?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; for what? It's no good,' answered Wilhelmina.</p>
+
+<p>I knew that all the necessaries of life were dealt out to the members of
+the Community according to their need, and, as they never went outside
+of their valley, they could scarcely have spent money even if they had
+possessed it. But, nevertheless, it was startling in this nineteenth
+century to come upon a sincere belief in the worthlessness of the
+green-tinted paper we cherish so fondly. 'Gustav will have learned its
+value,' I thought, as Mina, having finished the strawberry-bed, started
+away towards the dairy to assist in the butter-making.</p>
+
+<p>I strolled on up the little hill, past the picturesque bakery, where
+through the open window I caught a glimpse of the 'old, very old Jacob,'
+a serious young man of thirty, drawing out his large loaves of bread
+from the brick oven with a long-handled rake. It was gingerbread-day
+also, and a spicy odor met me at the window; so I put in my head and
+asked for a piece, receiving a card about a foot square, laid on fresh
+grape-leaves.</p>
+
+<p>'But I cannot eat all this,' I said, breaking off a corner.</p>
+
+<p>'O, dat's noding!' answered Jacob, beginning to knead fresh dough in a
+long white trough, the village supply for the next day.</p>
+
+<p>'I have been sitting with Wilhelmina,' I remarked, as I leaned on the
+casement, impelled by a desire to see the effect of the name.</p>
+
+<p>'So?' said Jacob, interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; she is a sweet girl.'</p>
+
+<p>'So?' (doubtfully.)</p>
+
+<p>'Dont you think so, Jacob?'<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Ye-es. So-so. A leetle black,' answered this impassive lover.</p>
+
+<p>'But you wish to marry her?'</p>
+
+<p>'O, ye-es. She young and strong; her fader say she good to work. I have
+children five; I must have some one in the house.'</p>
+
+<p>'O Jacob! Is that the way to talk?' I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>'Warum nicht?' replied the baker, pausing in his kneading, and regarding
+me with wide-open, candid eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'Why not, indeed?' I thought, as I turned away from the window. 'He is
+at least honest, and no doubt in his way he would be a kind husband to
+little Mina. But what a way.'</p>
+
+<p>I walked on up the street, passing the pleasant house where all the
+infirm old women of the Community were lodged together, carefully tended
+by appointed nurses. The aged sisters were out on the piazza sunning
+themselves, like so many old cats. They were bent with hard, out-door
+labor for they belonged to the early days when the wild forest covered
+the fields now so rich, and only a few log-cabins stood on the site of
+the tidy cottages and gardens of the present village. Some of them had
+taken the long journey on foot from Philadelphia westward, four hundred
+and fifty miles, in the depths of winter. Well might they rest from
+their labors and sit in the sunshine, poor old souls!</p>
+
+<p>A few days later, my friendly newspaper mentioned the arrival of the
+German regiment at Camp Chase. 'They will probably be paid off in a day
+or two,' I thought, 'and another day may bring them here.' Eager to be
+the first to tell the good news to my little favorite, I hastened to the
+garden, and found her engaged, as usual, in weeding.</p>
+
+<p>'Mina,' I said, 'I have something to tell you. The regiment is at Camp
+Chase; you will see Gustav soon, perhaps this week.'</p>
+
+<p>And there, before my eyes, the transformation I had often fancied took
+place; the color rushed to the brown surface, the cheeks and lips glowed
+in vivid red, and the heavy eyes opened wide and shone like stars, with
+a brilliancy that astonished and even disturbed me. The statue had a
+soul at last; the beauty dormant had awakened. But for the fire of that
+soul would this expected Pygmalion suffice? Would the real prince<a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a> fill
+his place in the long-cherished dreams of this beauty of the wood?</p>
+
+<p>The girl had risen as I spoke, and now she stood erect, trembling with
+excitement, her hands clasped on her breast, breathing quickly and
+heavily as though an overweight of joy was pressing down on her heart;
+her eyes were fixed upon my face, but she saw me not. Strange was her
+gaze, like the gaze of one walking in sleep. Her sloping shoulders
+seemed to expand and chafe against the stuff gown as though they would
+burst their bonds; the blood glowed in her face and throat, and her lips
+quivered, not as though tears were coming, but from the fulness of
+unuttered speech. Her emotion resembled the intensest fire of fever, and
+yet it seemed natural; like noon in the tropics when the gorgeous
+flowers flame in the white, shadowless heat. Thus stood Wilhelmina,
+looking up into the sky with eyes that challenged the sun.</p>
+
+<p>'Come here, child,' I said; 'come here and sit by me. We will talk about
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>But she neither saw nor heard me. I drew her down on the bench at my
+side; she yielded unconsciously; her slender form throbbed, and pulses
+were beating under my hands wherever I touched her. 'Mina!' I said
+again. But she did not answer. Like an unfolding rose, she revealed her
+hidden, beautiful heart, as though a spirit had breathed upon the bud;
+silenced in the presence of this great love, I ceased speaking, and left
+her to herself. After a time single words fell from her lips, broken
+utterances of happiness. I was as nothing; she was absorbed in the One.
+'Gustav! mein Gustav!' It was like the bird's note, oft repeated, ever
+the same. So isolated, so intense was her joy, that, as often happens,
+my mind took refuge in the opposite extreme of commonplace, and I found
+myself wondering whether she would be able to eat boiled beef and
+cabbage for dinner, or fill the soft-soap barrel for the laundry-women,
+later in the day.</p>
+
+<p>All the morning I sat under the trees with Wilhelmina, who had forgotten
+her life-long tasks as completely as though they had never existed. I
+hated to leave her to the leather-colored wife of the old gardener, and
+lingered until the sharp voice came from the distant house-door,
+calling, 'Veel-hel-meeny,' as the twelve-o'clock bell summoned the
+Community to dinner. But as Mina rose and swept back the heavy braid
+that had<a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a> fallen from the little ivory stick which confined them, I saw
+that she was armed <i>cap-à-pie</i> in that full happiness from which all
+weapons glance off harmless.</p>
+
+<p>All the rest of the day she was like a thing possessed. I followed her
+to the hill-pasture, whither she had gone to mind the cows, and found
+her coiled up on the grass in the blaze of the afternoon sun, like a
+little salamander. She was lost in day dreams, and the decorous cows had
+a holiday for once in their sober lives, wandering beyond bounds at
+will, and even tasting the dissipations of the marsh, standing unheeded
+in the bog up to their sleek knees. Wilhelmina had not many words to
+give me; her English vocabulary was limited; she had never read a line
+of romance nor a verse of poetry. The nearest approach to either was the
+Community hymn-book, containing the Separatist hymns, of which the
+following lines are a specimen,</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Ruhe ist das beste Gut</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Dasz man haben kann,"&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Rest is the best good</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">That man can have,"&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="nind">and which embody the religious doctrine of the Zoar Brethren, although
+they think, apparently, that the labor of twelve hours each day is
+necessary to its enjoyment. The 'Ruhe,' however, refers more especially
+to their quiet seclusion away from the turmoil of the wicked world
+outside.</p>
+
+<p>The second morning after this it was evident that an unusual excitement
+was abroad in the phlegmatic village. All the daily duties were
+fulfilled as usual at the Wirthshaus: Pauline went up to the bakery with
+her board, and returned with her load of bread and bretzels balanced on
+her head; Jacobina served our coffee with slow precision; and the
+broad-shouldered, young-faced Lydia patted and puffed up our
+mountain-high feather-beds with due care. The men went afield at the
+blast of the horn, the workshops were full and the mills running. But,
+nevertheless, all was not the same; the air seemed full of mystery;
+there were whisperings when two met, furtive signals, and an inward
+excitement glowing in the faces of men, women, and children, hitherto
+placid as their own sheep. 'They have heard the news,' I said, after
+watching the tailor's<a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a> Gretchen and the blacksmith's Barbara stop to
+exchange a whisper behind the wood-house. Later in the day we learned
+that several letters from the absent soldier-boys had been received that
+morning, announcing their arrival on the evening train. The news had
+flown from one end of the village to the other; and although the
+well-drilled hands were all at work, hearts were stirring with the
+greatest excitement of a lifetime, since there was hardly a house where
+there was not one expected. Each large house often held a number of
+families, stowed away in little sets of chambers, with one dining-room
+in common.</p>
+
+<p>Several times during the day we saw the three trustees conferring apart
+with anxious faces. The war had been a sore trouble to them, owing to
+their conscientious scruples against rendering military service. They
+had hoped to remain non-combatants. But the country was on fire with
+patriotism, and nothing less than a <i>bona fide</i> Separatist in United
+States uniform would quiet the surrounding towns, long jealous of the
+wealth of this foreign community, misunderstanding its tenets, and
+glowing with that zeal against 'sympathizers' which kept star-spangled
+banners flying over every suspected house. 'Hang out the flag!' was
+their cry, and they demanded that Zoar should hang out its soldiers,
+giving them to understand that if not voluntarily hung out, they would
+soon be involuntarily hung up! A draft was ordered, and then the young
+men of the society, who had long chafed against their bonds, broke
+loose, volunteered, and marched away, principles or no principles,
+trustees or no trustees. These bold hearts once gone, the village sank
+into quietude again. Their letters, however, were a source of anxiety,
+coming as they did from the vain outside world; and the old postmaster,
+autocrat though he was, hardly dared to suppress them. But he said,
+shaking his head, that they 'had fallen upon troublous times,' and
+handed each dangerous envelope out with a groan. But the soldiers were
+not skilled penmen; their letters, few and far between, at length
+stopped entirely. Time passed, and the very existence of the runaways
+had become a far-off problem to the wise men of the Community, absorbed
+in their slow calculations and cautious agriculture, when now, suddenly,
+it forced itself upon them face to face, and they were required to solve
+it in the twinkling of an eye. The bold hearts were coming back, full of
+knowledge of<a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a> the outside world, almost every house would hold one, and
+the bands of law and order would be broken. Before this prospect the
+trustees quailed. Twenty years before they would have forbidden the
+entrance of these unruly sons within their borders; but now they dared
+not, since even into Zoar had penetrated the knowledge that America was
+a free country. The younger generation were not as their fathers were;
+objections had been openly made to the cut of the Sunday coats, and the
+girls had spoken together of ribbons!</p>
+
+<p>The shadows of twilight seemed very long in falling that night, but at
+last there was no further excuse for delaying the evening bell, and home
+came the laborers to their evening meal. There was no moon, a soft mist
+obscured the stars, and the night was darkened with the excess of
+richness which rose from the ripening valley-fields and fat bottom-lands
+along the river. The Community store opposite the Wirthshaus was closed
+early in the evening, the houses of the trustees were dark, and indeed
+the village was almost unlighted, as if to hide its own excitement. The
+entire population was abroad in the night, and one by one the men and
+boys stole away down the station road, a lovely, winding track on the
+hillside, following the river on its way down the valley to the little
+station on the grass-grown railroad, a branch from the main track. As
+ten o'clock came, the women and girls, grown bold with excitement,
+gathered in the open space in front of the Wirthshaus, where the lights
+from the windows illumined their faces. There I saw the broad-shouldered
+Lydia, Rosine, Doroty, and all the rest, in their Sunday clothes,
+flushed, laughing, and chattering; but no Wilhelmina.</p>
+
+<p>'Where can she be?' I said.</p>
+
+<p>If she was there, the larger girls concealed her with their buxom
+breadth; I looked for the slender little maiden in vain.</p>
+
+<p>'Shu!' cried the girls, 'de bugle!'</p>
+
+<p>Far down the station road we heard the bugle and saw the glimmering of
+lights among the trees. On it came, a will-o' the-wisp procession, first
+a detachment of village boys each with a lantern or torch, next the
+returned soldiers winding their bugles,&mdash;for, German-like, they all had
+musical instruments,&mdash;then an excited crowd of brothers and cousins
+loaded with knapsacks, guns, and military accoutrements of all kinds;
+each man had something, were it only a tin cup, and proudly<a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a> they
+marched in the footsteps of their glorious relatives, bearing the spoils
+of war. The girls set up a shrill cry of welcome as the procession
+approached, but the ranks continued unbroken until the open space in
+front of the Wirthshaus was reached; then, at a signal, the soldiers
+gave three cheers, the villagers joining in with all their hearts and
+lungs, but wildly and out of time, like the scattering fire of an
+awkward squad. The sound had never been heard in Zoar before. The
+soldiers gave a final 'Tiger-r-r!' and then broke ranks, mingling with
+the excited crowd, exchanging greetings and embraces. All talked at
+once; some wept, some laughed; and through it all silently stood the
+three trustees on the dark porch in front of the store, looking down
+upon their wild flock, their sober faces visible in the glare of the
+torches and lanterns below. The entire population was present; even the
+babies were held up on the outskirts of the crowd, stolid and staring.</p>
+
+<p>'Where can Wilhelmina be?' I said again.</p>
+
+<p>'Here, under the window; I saw her long ago,' replied one of the women.</p>
+
+<p>Leaning against a piazza-pillar, close under my eyes, stood the little
+maiden, pale and still. I could not disguise from myself that she looked
+almost ugly among those florid, laughing girls, for her color was gone,
+and her eyes so fixed that they looked unnaturally large; her somewhat
+heavy Egyptian features stood out in the bright light, but her small
+form was lost among the group of broad, white-kerchiefed shoulders,
+adorned with breast-knots of gay flowers. And had Wilhelmina no flower?
+She, so fond of blossoms? I looked again; yes, a little white rose,
+drooping and pale as herself.</p>
+
+<p>But where was Gustav? The soldiers came and went in the crowd, and all
+spoke to Mina; but where was the One? I caught the landlord's little son
+as he passed, and asked the question.</p>
+
+<p>'Gustav! Dat's him,' he answered, pointing out a tall, rollicking
+soldier who seemed to be embracing the whole population in his gleeful
+welcome. That very soldier had passed Mina a dozen times, flinging a gay
+greeting to her each time; but nothing more.</p>
+
+<p>After half an hour of general rejoicing, the crowd dispersed, each
+household bearing off in triumph the hero that fell to its lot. Then the
+tiled domiciles, where usually all were asleep an<a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a> hour after twilight,
+blazed forth with unaccustomed light from every little window; within we
+could see the circles, with flagons of beer and various dainties
+manufactured in secret during the day, sitting and talking together in a
+manner which, for Zoar, was a wild revel, since it was nearly eleven
+o'clock! We were not the only outside spectators of this unwonted
+gayety; several times we met the trustees stealing along in the shadow
+from house to house, like anxious spectres in broad-brimmed hats. No
+doubt they said to each other, 'How, how will this end!'</p>
+
+<p>The merry Gustav had gone off by Mina's side, which gave me some
+comfort; but when in our rounds we came to the gardener's house and
+gazed through the open door, the little maiden sat apart, and the
+soldier, in the centre of an admiring circle, was telling stories of the
+war.</p>
+
+<p>I felt a foreboding of sorrow as I gazed out through the little window
+before climbing up into my high bed. Lights still twinkled in some of
+the houses, but a white mist was rising from the river, and the drowsy
+long-drawn chant of the summer night invited me to dreamless sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning I could not resist questioning Jacobina, who also had
+her lover among the soldiers, if all was well.</p>
+
+<p>'O yes. They stay,&mdash;all but two. We's married next mont.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the two?'</p>
+
+<p>'Karl and Gustav.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Wilhelmina!' I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>'O she let him go,' answered Jacobina, bringing fresh coffee.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor child! How does she bear it?'</p>
+
+<p>'O so. She cannot help. She say noding.'</p>
+
+<p>'But the trustees, will they allow these young men to leave the
+Community?'</p>
+
+<p>'They cannot help,' said Jacobina. 'Gustav and Karl write not in the
+book; they free to go. Wilhelmina marry Jacob; it's joost the same; all
+r-r-ight,' added Jacobina, who prided herself upon her English, caught
+from visitors at the Wirthshaus table.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! but it is not just the same,' I thought as I walked up to the
+garden to find my little maiden. She was not there;<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a> the leathery mother
+said she was out on the hills with the cows.</p>
+
+<p>'So Gustav is going to leave the Community,' I said in German.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, better so. He is an idle, wild boy. Now Veelhelmeeny can marry the
+baker, a good steady man.'</p>
+
+<p>'But Mina does not like him,' I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>'Das macht nichts,' answered the leathery mother.</p>
+
+<p>Wilhelmina was not in the pasture; I sought for her everywhere, and
+called her name. The poor child had hidden herself, and whether she
+heard me or not she did not respond. All day she kept herself aloof; I
+almost feared she would never return; but in the late twilight a little
+figure slipped through the garden-gate and took refuge in the house
+before I could speak; for I was watching for the child, apparently the
+only one, though a stranger, to care for her sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>'Can I not see her?' I said to the leathery mother, following to the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>'Eh, no; she's foolish; she will not speak a word; she has gone off to
+bed,' was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>For three days I did not see Mina, so early did she flee away to the
+hills and so late return. I followed her to the pasture once or twice,
+but she would not show herself, and I could not discover her hiding
+place. The fourth day I learned that Gustav and Karl were to leave the
+village in the afternoon, probably forever. The other soldiers had
+signed the articles presented by the anxious trustees, and settled down
+into the old routine, going afield with the rest, although still heroes
+of the hour; they were all to be married in August. No doubt the
+hardships of their campaigns among the Tennessee mountains had taught
+them that the rich valley was a home not to be despised; nevertheless,
+it was evident that the flowers of the flock were those who were about
+departing, and that in Gustav and Karl the Community lost its brightest
+spirits. Evident to us; but possibly, the Community cared not for bright
+spirits.</p>
+
+<p>I had made several attempts to speak to Gustav; this morning I at last
+succeeded. I found him polishing his bugle on the garden bench.</p>
+
+<p>'Why are you going away, Gustav?' I asked. 'Zoar is a pleasant little
+village.'<a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Too slow for me, miss.'</p>
+
+<p>'The life is easy, however; you will find the world a hard place.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't mind work, ma'am, but I do like to be free. I feel all cramped
+up here, with these rules and bells; and, besides, I couldn't stand
+those trustees; they never let a fellow alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Wilhelmina? If you do go, I hope you will take her with you or come
+for her when you have found work.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh no, miss. All that was long ago. It's all over now.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you like her, Gustav.'</p>
+
+<p>'O so. She's a good little thing, but too quiet for me.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she likes you,' I said desperately, for I saw no other way to
+loosen this Gordian knot.</p>
+
+<p>'O no, miss. She got used to it, and has thought of it all these years;
+that's all. She'll forget about it and marry the baker.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she does not like the baker.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? He's a good fellow enough. She'll like him in time. It's all
+the same. I declare it's too bad to see all these girls going on in the
+same old way, in their ugly gowns and big shoes! Why, ma'am, I could'nt,
+take Mina outside, even if I wanted to; she's too old to learn new ways,
+and everybody would laugh at her. She could'nt get along a day.
+Besides,' said the young soldier, coloring up to his eyes, 'I don't mind
+telling you that&mdash;that there's some one else. Look here, ma'am.'</p>
+
+<p>And he put into my hand a card photograph representing a pretty girl,
+over dressed, and adorned with curls and gilt jewelery. 'That's Miss
+Martin,' said Gustav with pride; 'Miss Emmeline Martin, of Cincinnati.
+I'm going to marry Miss Martin.'</p>
+
+<p>As I held the pretty, flashy picture in my hand, all my castles fell to
+the ground. My plan for taking Mina home with me, accustoming her
+gradually to other clothes and ways, teaching her enough of the world to
+enable her to hold her place without pain, my hope that my husband might
+find a situation for Gustav in some of the iron-mills near Cleveland, in
+short, all the idyl I had woven, was destroyed. If it had not been for
+this red-cheeked Miss Martin in her gilt beads! 'Why is it that men will
+be such fools?' I thought. Up sprung a memory of the curls and ponderous
+jet necklace I sported at a certain period<a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a> of my existence, when
+John&mdash;I was silenced, gave Gustav his picture, and walked away without a
+word.</p>
+
+<p>At noon the villagers, on their way back to work, paused at the
+Wirthshaus to say good bye; Karl and Gustav were there, and the old
+woolly horse had already gone to the station with their boxes. Among the
+others came Christine, Karl's former affianced, heartwhole and smiling,
+already betrothed to a new lover; but no Wilhelmina. Good wishes and
+farewells were exchanged, and at last the two soldiers started away,
+falling into the marching step and watched with furtive satisfaction by
+the three trustees, who stood together in the shadow of the smithy
+apparently deeply absorbed in a broken-down cask.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely afternoon, and I, too, strolled down the station road
+embowered in shade. The two soldiers were not far in advance. I had
+passed the flour-mill on the outskirts of the village and was
+approaching the old quarry, when a sound startled me; out of the rocks
+in front rushed a little figure and crying 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' fell
+at the soldier's feet. It was Wilhelmina.</p>
+
+<p>I ran forward and took her from the young men; she lay in my arms as if
+dead. The poor child was sadly changed; always slender and swaying, she
+now looked thin and shrunken, her skin had a strange, dark pallor, and
+her lips were drawn in as if from pain. I could see her eyes through the
+large-orbed thin lids, and the brown shadows beneath extended down into
+the cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>'Was ist's?' said Gustav, looking bewildered. 'Is she sick?'</p>
+
+<p>I answered 'Yes,' but nothing more. I could see that he had no suspicion
+of the truth, believing as he did that the 'good fellow' of a baker
+would do very well for this 'good little thing' who was 'too quiet' for
+him. The memory of Miss Martin sealed my lips. But if it had not been
+for that pretty, flashy picture, would I not have spoken!</p>
+
+<p>'You must go; you will miss the train,' I said after a few minutes. 'I
+will see to Mina.'</p>
+
+<p>But Gustav lingered. Perhaps he was really troubled to see the little
+sweetheart of his boyhood in such desolate plight; perhaps a touch of
+the old feeling came back; and perhaps also it was nothing of the kind,
+and, as usual, my romantic thoughts<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a> were carrying me away. At any rate,
+whatever it was, he stooped over the fainting girl.</p>
+
+<p>'She looks bad,' he said, 'very bad. I wish&mdash; But she'll get well and
+marry the baker. Good bye, Mina.' And bending his tall form, he kissed
+her colorless cheek, and then hastened away to join the impatient Karl;
+a curve in the road soon hid them from view.</p>
+
+<p>Wilhelmina had stirred at his touch; after a moment her large eyes
+opened slowly; she looked around as if dazed, but all at once memory
+came back and she started up with the same cry, 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' I
+drew her head down on my shoulder to stifle the sound; it was better the
+soldier should not hear it, and its anguish thrilled my own heart also.
+She had not the strength to resist me, and in a few minutes I knew that
+the young men were out of hearing as they strode on towards the station
+and out into the wide world.</p>
+
+<p>The forest was solitary, we were beyond the village; all the afternoon I
+sat under the trees with the stricken girl. Again, as in her joy her
+words were few; again as in her joy her whole being was involved. Her
+little rough hands were cold, a film had gathered over her eyes; she did
+not weep, but moaned to herself, and all her senses seemed blunted. At
+nightfall I took her home, and the leathery mother received her with a
+frown; but the child was beyond caring, and crept away, dumbly, to her
+room.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning she was off to the hills again, nor could I find her
+for several days. Evidently in spite of my sympathy I was no more to her
+than I should have been to a wounded fawn. She was a mixture of the
+wild, shy creature of the woods and the deep-loving woman of the
+tropics; in either case I could be but small comfort. When at last I did
+see her, she was apathetic and dull; her feelings, her senses, and her
+intelligence seemed to have gone within, as if preying upon her heart.
+She scarcely listened to my proposal to take her with me; for in my pity
+I had suggested it, in spite of its difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' she said, mechanically, 'I'se better here'; and fell into silence
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>A month later a friend went down to spend a few days in the valley, and
+upon her return described to us the weddings of the whilom soldiers. 'It
+was really a pretty sight,' she said,<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> 'the quaint peasant dresses and
+the flowers. Afterwards, the band went round the village playing their
+odd tunes, and all had a holiday. There were two civilians married also;
+I mean two young men who had not been to the war. It seems that two of
+the soldiers turned their backs upon the Community and their allotted
+brides, and marched away; but the Zoar maidens are not romantic, I
+fancy, for these two deserted ones were betrothed again, and married,
+all in the short space of four weeks.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was not one Wilhelmina, the gardener's daughter, a short, dark girl?' I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'And she married Jacob the baker?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>The next year, weary of the cold lake-winds, we left the icy shore and
+went down to the valley to meet the coming spring, finding her already
+there, decked with vines and flowers. A new waitress brought us our
+coffee.</p>
+
+<p>'How is Wilhelmina?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'Eh,&mdash;Wilhelmina? O, she not here now; she gone to the Next Country,'
+answered the girl in a matter-of-fact way. 'She die last October, and
+Jacob he have anoder wife now.'</p>
+
+<p>In the late afternoon I asked a little girl to show me Wilhelmina's
+grave in the quiet God's Acre on the hill. Innovation was creeping in,
+even here; the later graves had mounds raised over them, and one had a
+little head-board with an inscription in ink.</p>
+
+<p>Wilhelmina lay apart, and some one, probably the old gardener, who had
+loved her in his silent way, had planted a rose-bush at the head of the
+mound. I dismissed my guide and sat there in the sunset, thinking of
+many things, but chiefly of this: 'Why should this great wealth of love
+have been allowed to waste itself? Why is it that the greatest of power,
+unquestionably, of this mortal life should so often seem a useless
+gift?'</p>
+
+<p>No answer came from the sunset clouds, and as twilight sank down on the
+earth I rose to go. 'I fully believe,' I said, as though repeating a
+creed, 'that this poor, loving heart, whose earthly body lies under this
+mound, is happy in its own loving<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a> way. It has not been changed, but the
+happiness it longed for has come. How we know not; but the God who made
+Wilhelmina understands her. He has given unto her not rest, not peace,
+but an active, living joy.'</p>
+
+<p>I walked away through the wild meadow, under whose turf, unmarked by
+stone or mound, lay the first pioneers of the Community and out into the
+forest road, untravelled save when the dead passed over it to their last
+earthly home. The evening was still and breathless, and the shadows lay
+thick on the grass as I looked back. But I could still distinguish the
+little mound with the rose-bush at its head, and, not without tears, I
+said, 'Farewell, poor Wilhelmina; farewell.'<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="ST_CLAIR_FLATS" id="ST_CLAIR_FLATS"></a>ST. CLAIR FLATS</h2>
+
+<p class="nind">I<small>N</small> September, 1855, I first saw the St. Clair Flats. Owing to Raymond's
+determination, we stopped there.</p>
+
+<p>'Why go on?' he asked. 'Why cross another long, rough lake, when here is
+all we want?'</p>
+
+<p>'But no one ever stops here,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'So much the better; we shall have it all to ourselves.'</p>
+
+<p>'But we must at least have a roof over our heads.'</p>
+
+<p>'I presume we can find one.'</p>
+
+<p>The captain of the steamer, however, knew of no roof save that covering
+a little lighthouse set on spiles, which the boat would pass within the
+half hour; we decided to get off there, and throw ourselves upon the
+charity of the lighthouse-man. In the meantime, we sat on the bow with
+Captain Kidd, our four-legged companion, who had often accompanied us on
+hunt-expeditions, but never so far westward. It had been rough on Lake
+Erie,&mdash;very rough. We, who had sailed the ocean with composure, found
+ourselves most inhumanly tossed on the short chopping waves of this
+fresh water sea; we, who alone of all the cabin-list had eaten our four
+courses every day on the ocean-steamer, found ourselves here reduced to
+the depressing diet of a herring and pilot-bread. Captain Kidd, too, had
+suffered dumbly; even now he could not find comfort, but tried every
+plank in the deck, one after the other, circling round and round after
+his tail dog-fashion, before lying down, and no sooner down than up
+again, for another choice of planks, another circling, and another
+failure. We were sailing across a small lake whose smooth waters were
+like clear green oil; as we drew near the outlet, the low, green shores
+curved inward and came together, and the steamer entered a narrow, green
+river.<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Here we are,' said Raymond. 'Now we can soon land.'</p>
+
+<p>'But there isn't any land,' I answered.</p>
+
+<p>'What is that, then?' asked my near-sighted companion, pointing toward
+what seemed a shore.</p>
+
+<p>'Reeds.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what do they run back to?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'But there must be solid ground beyond?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing but reeds, flags, lily-pads, grass, and water, as far as I can
+see.'</p>
+
+<p>'A marsh?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, a marsh.'</p>
+
+<p>The word 'marsh' does not bring up a beautiful picture to the mind, and
+yet the reality was as beautiful as anything I have ever seen,&mdash;an
+enchanted land, whose memory haunts me as an idea unwritten, a melody
+unsung, a picture unpainted, haunts the artist, and will not away. On
+each side and in front, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the low
+green land which was yet no land, intersected by hundreds of channels,
+narrow and broad, whose waters were green as their shores. In and out,
+now running into each other for a moment, now setting off each for
+himself again, these many channels flowed along with a rippling current;
+zigzag as they were, they never seemed to loiter, but, as if knowing
+just where they were going and what they had to do, they found time to
+take their own pleasant roundabout way, visiting the secluded households
+of their friends the flags, who, poor souls, must always stay at home.
+These currents were as clear as crystal, and green as the water-grasses
+that fringed their miniature shores. The bristling reeds, like companies
+of free-lances, rode boldly out here and there into the deeps, trying to
+conquer more territory for the grasses, but the currents were hard to
+conquer; they dismounted the free-lances, and flowed over their
+submerged heads; they beat them down with assaulting ripples; they broke
+their backs so effectually that the bravest had no spirit left, but
+trailed along, limp and bedraggled. And, if by chance the lances
+succeeded in stretching their forces across from one little shore to
+another, then the unconquered currents forced their way between the
+closely serried ranks of the enemy, and flowed on as gayly as ever,
+leaving the grasses sitting hopeless<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> on the bank; for they needed solid
+ground for their delicate feet, these graceful ladies in green.</p>
+
+<p>You might call it a marsh; but there was no mud, no dark slimy water, no
+stagnant scum; there were no rank yellow lilies, no gormandizing frogs,
+no swinish mud-turtles. The clear waters of the channels ran over golden
+sands, and hurtled among the stiff reeds so swiftly that only in a bay,
+or where protected by a crescent point, could the fair white lilies
+float in the quiet their serene beauty requires. The flags, who
+brandished their swords proudly, were martinets down to their very
+heels, keeping themselves as clean under the water as above, and
+harboring not a speck of mud on their bright green uniforms. For
+inhabitants, there were small fish roving about here and there in the
+clear tide, keeping an eye out for the herons, who, watery as to legs,
+but venerable and wise of aspect, stood on promontories musing,
+apparently, on the secrets of the ages.</p>
+
+<p>The steamer's route was a constant curve; through the larger channels of
+the archipelago she wound, as if following the clew of a labyrinth. By
+turns she headed toward all the points of the compass, finding a channel
+where, to our uninitiated eyes, there was no channel, doubling upon her
+own track, going broadside foremost, floundering and backing, like a
+whale caught in a shallow. Here, landlocked, she would choose what
+seemed the narrowest channel of all, and dash recklessly through, with
+the reeds almost brushing her sides; there she crept gingerly along a
+broad expanse of water, her paddle-wheels scarcely revolving, in the
+excess of her caution. Saplings, with their heads of foliage on, and
+branches adorned with fluttering rags, served as finger-posts to show
+the way through the watery defiles, and there were many other
+hieroglyphics legible only to the pilot. 'This time, surely, we shall
+run ashore,' we thought again and again, as the steamer glided, head-on,
+toward an islet; but at the last there was always a quick turn into some
+unseen strait opening like a secret passage in a castle-wall, and we
+found ourselves in a new lakelet, heading in the opposite direction.
+Once we met another steamer, and the two great hulls floated slowly past
+each other, with engines motionless, so near that the passengers could
+have shaken hands with each other had they been so disposed. Not that
+they were so disposed, however; far from it. They gathered on their
+respective<a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a> decks and gazed at each other gravely; not a smile was seen,
+not a word spoken, not the shadow of a salutation given. It was not
+pride, it was not suspicion; it was the universal listlessness of the
+travelling American bereft of his business, Othello with his occupation
+gone. What can such a man do on a steamer? Generally, nothing. Certainly
+he would never think of any such light-hearted nonsense as a smile or
+passing bow.</p>
+
+<p>But the ships were, <i>par excellence</i>, the bewitched craft, the Flying
+Dutchmen of the Flats. A brig, with lofty, sky-scraping sails, bound
+south, came into view of our steamer, bound north, and passed, we
+hugging the shore to give her room: five minutes afterward the
+sky-scraping sails we had left behind veered around in front of us
+again; another five minutes, and there they were far distant on the
+right; another, and there they were again close by us on the left. For
+half an hour those sails circled around us, and yet all the time we were
+pushing steadily forward; this seemed witching work indeed. Again, the
+numerous schooners thought nothing of sailing over-land; we saw them on
+all sides gliding before the wind, or beating up against it over the
+windows as easily as over the water; sailing on grass was a mere trifle
+to these spirit-barks. All this we saw, as I said before, apparently.
+But in that adverb is hidden the magic of the St. Clair Flats.</p>
+
+<p>'It is beautiful,&mdash;beautiful,' I said, looking off over the vivid green
+expanse.</p>
+
+<p>'Beautiful?' echoed the captain, who had himself taken charge of the
+steering when the steamer entered the labyrinth,&mdash;'I don't see anything
+beautiful in it!&mdash;Port your helm up there; port!'</p>
+
+<p>'Port it is, sir,' came back from the pilot-house above.</p>
+
+<p>'These Flats give us more trouble than any other spot on the lakes;
+vessels are all the time getting aground and blocking up the way, which
+is narrow enough at best. There's some talk of Uncle Sam's cutting a
+canal right through,&mdash;a straight canal; but he's so slow, Uncle Sam is,
+and I'm afraid I'll be off the waters before the job is done.'</p>
+
+<p>'A straight canal!' I repeated, thinking with dismay of an ugly
+utilitarian ditch invading this beautiful winding waste of green.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you can see for yourself what a saving it would be,'<a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a> replied the
+captain. 'We could run right through in no time, day or night; whereas,
+now, we have to turn and twist and watch every inch of the whole
+everlasting marsh.' Such was the captain's opinion. But we, albeit
+neither romantic nor artistic, were captivated with his 'everlasting
+marsh,' and eager to penetrate far within its green fastnesses.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose there are other families living about here, besides the
+family at the lighthouse?' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'Never heard of any; they'd have to live on a raft if they did.'</p>
+
+<p>'But there must be some solid ground.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't believe it; it's nothing but one great sponge for miles.&mdash;Steady
+up there; steady!'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' said Raymond, 'so be it. If there is only the lighthouse,
+at the lighthouse we'll get off, and take our chances.'</p>
+
+<p>'You're surveyors, I suppose?' said the captain.</p>
+
+<p>Surveyors are the pioneers of the lake-country, understood by the people
+to be a set of harmless monomaniacs, given to building little
+observatories along-shore, where there is nothing to observe; mild
+madmen, whose vagaries and instruments are equally singular. As
+surveyors, therefore, the captain saw nothing surprising in our
+determination to get off at the lighthouse; if we had proposed going
+ashore on a plank in the middle of Lake Huron, he would have made no
+objection.</p>
+
+<p>At length the lighthouse came into view, a little fortress perched on
+spiles, with a ladder for entrance; as usual in small houses, much time
+seemed devoted to washing, for a large crane, swung to and fro by a
+rope, extended out over the water, covered with fluttering garments hung
+out to dry. The steamer lay to, our row-boat was launched, our traps
+handed out, Captain Kidd took his place in the bow, and we pushed off
+into the shallows; then the great paddle-wheels revolved again, and the
+steamer sailed away, leaving us astern, rocking on her waves, and
+watched listlessly by the passengers until a turn hid us from their
+view. In the mean time numerous flaxen-haired children had appeared at
+the little windows of the lighthouse,&mdash;too many of them, indeed, for our
+hopes of comfort.</p>
+
+<p>'Ten,' said Raymond, counting heads.</p>
+
+<p>The ten, moved by curiosity as we approached, hung out of the windows so
+far that they held on merely by their ankles.</p>
+
+<p>'We cannot possibly save them all,' I remarked, looking up at the
+dangling gazers.<a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a></p>
+
+<p>'O, they're amphibious,' said Raymond; 'web-footed, I presume.'</p>
+
+<p>We rowed up under the fortress, and demanded parley with the keeper in
+the following language:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'Is your father here?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; but ma is,' answered the chorus.&mdash;'Ma! ma!'</p>
+
+<p>Ma appeared, a portly female, who held converse with us from the top of
+the ladder. The sum and substance of the dialogue was that she had not a
+corner to give us, and recommended us to find Liakim, and have him show
+us the way to Waiting Samuel's.</p>
+
+<p>'Waiting Samuel's?' we repeated.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he's a kind of crazy man living away over there in the Flats. But
+there's no harm in him, and his wife is a tidy housekeeper. You be
+surveyors, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>We accepted the imputation in order to avoid a broadside of questions,
+and asked the whereabouts of Liakim.</p>
+
+<p>'O, he's round the point, somewhere there, fishing!'</p>
+
+<p>We rowed on and found him, a little, round-shouldered man, in an old
+flat-bottomed boat, who had not taken a fish, and looked as though he
+never would. We explained our errand.</p>
+
+<p>'Did Rosabel Lee tell ye to come to me?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>'The woman in the lighthouse told us,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'That's Rosabel Lee, that's my wife; I'm Liakim Lee,' said the little
+man, gathering together his forlorn old rods and tackle, and pulling up
+his anchor.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"In the kingdom down by the sea</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Lived the beautiful Annabel Lee,"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="nind">I quoted, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p>
+
+<p>'And what very remarkable feet had she!' added Raymond, improvising
+under the inspiration of certain shoes, scow-like in shape, gigantic in
+length and breadth, which had made themselves visible at the top round
+of the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>At length the shabby old boat got under way, and we followed in its
+path, turning off to the right through a network of channels, now
+pulling ourselves along by the reeds, now paddling over a raft of
+lily-pads, now poling through a winding labyrinth, and now rowing with
+broad sweeps across the little lake. The sun was sinking, and the
+western sky grew<a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a> bright at his coming; there was not a cloud to make
+mountain-peaks on the horizon, nothing but the level earth below meeting
+the curved sky above, so evenly and clearly that it seemed as though we
+could go out there and touch it with our hands. Soon we lost sight of
+the little lighthouse; then one by one the distant sails sank down and
+disappeared, and we were left alone on the grassy sea, rowing toward the
+sunset.</p>
+
+<p>'We must have come a mile or two, and there is no sign of a house,' I
+called out to our guide.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I don't pretend to know how far it is, exactly,' replied Liakim;
+'we don't know how far anything is here in the Flats, we don't.'</p>
+
+<p>'But are you sure you know the way?'</p>
+
+<p>'O my, yes! We've got most to the boy. There it is!'</p>
+
+<p>The 'boy' was a buoy, a fragment of plank painted white, part of the
+cabin-work of some wrecked steamer.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, then,' said Liakim, pausing, 'you jest go straight on in this here
+channel till you come to the ninth run from this boy, on the right; take
+that, and it will lead you right up to Waiting Samuel's door.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aren't you coming with us?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no. In the first place, Rosabel Lee will be waiting supper for
+me, and she don't like to wait; and, besides, Samuel can't abide to see
+none of us round his part of the Flats.'</p>
+
+<p>'But&mdash;' I began.</p>
+
+<p>'Let him go,' interposed Raymond; 'we can find the house without
+trouble.' And he tossed a silver dollar to the little man, who was
+already turning his boat.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you,' said Liakim. 'Be sure you take the ninth run and no
+other,&mdash;the ninth run from this boy. If you make any mistake, you'll
+find yourselves miles away.'</p>
+
+<p>With this cheerful statement, he began to row back. I did not altogether
+fancy being left on the watery waste without a guide; the name, too, of
+our mythic host did not bring up a certainty of supper and beds.
+'Waiting Samuel,' I repeated, doubtfully. 'What is he waiting for?' I
+called back over my shoulder; for Raymond was rowing.</p>
+
+<p>'The judgment-day!' answered Liakim, in a shrill key. The boats were now
+far apart; another turn, and we were alone.</p>
+
+<p>We glided on, counting the runs on the right: some were<a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a> wide, promising
+rivers; others wee little rivulets; the eighth was far away; and, when
+we had passed it, we could hardly decide whether we had reached the
+ninth or not, so small was the opening, so choked with weeds, showing
+scarcely a gleam of water beyond when we stood up to inspect it.</p>
+
+<p>'It is certainly the ninth, and I vote that we try it. It will do as
+well as another, and I for one, am in no hurry to arrive anywhere,' said
+Raymond, pushing the boat in among the reeds.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you want to lose yourself in this wilderness?' I asked, making a
+flag of my handkerchief to mark the spot where we had left the main
+stream.</p>
+
+<p>'I think we are lost already,' was the calm reply. I began to fear we
+were.</p>
+
+<p>For some distance the 'run,' as Liakim called it, continued choked with
+aquatic vegetation, which acted like so many devil-fish catching our
+oars; at length it widened and gradually gave us a clear channel, albeit
+so winding and erratic that the glow of the sunset, our only beacon,
+seemed to be executing a waltz all round the horizon. At length we saw a
+dark spot on the left, and distinguished the outline of a low house.
+'There it is,' I said, plying my oars with renewed strength. But the run
+turned short off in the opposite direction, and the house disappeared.
+After some time it rose again, this time on our right, but once more the
+run turned its back and shot off on a tangent. The sun had gone, and the
+rapid twilight of September was falling around us; the air, however, was
+singularly clear, and, as there was absolutely nothing to make a shadow,
+the darkness came on evenly over the level green. I was growing anxious,
+when a third time the house appeared, but the wilful run passed by it,
+although so near that we could distinguish its open windows and door,
+'Why not get out and wade across?' I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>'According to Liakim, it is the duty of this run to take us to the very
+door of Waiting Samuel's mansion, and it shall take us,' said Raymond,
+rowing on. It did.</p>
+
+<p>Doubling upon itself in the most unexpected manner, it brought us back
+to a little island, where the tall grass had given way to a
+vegetable-garden. We landed, secured our boat, and walked up the pathway
+toward the house. In the dusk it seemed to be a low, square structure,
+built of planks covered with plaster; the roof was flat, the windows
+unusually<a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a> broad, the door stood open,&mdash;but no one appeared. We knocked.
+A voice from within called out, 'Who are you, and what do you want with
+Waiting Samuel?'</p>
+
+<p>'Pilgrims, asking for food and shelter,' replied Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know the ways of righteousness?'</p>
+
+<p>'We can learn them.'</p>
+
+<p>'We can learn them,' I echoed.</p>
+
+<p>'Will you conform to the rules of this household without murmuring?'</p>
+
+<p>'We will.'</p>
+
+<p>'Enter then and peace be with you!' said the voice drawing nearer. We
+stepped cautiously through the dark passage into a room, whose open
+windows let in sufficient twilight to show us a shadowy figure. 'Seat
+yourselves,' it said. We found a bench, and sat down.</p>
+
+<p>'What seek ye here?' continued the shadow.</p>
+
+<p>'Rest!' replied Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'Hunting and fishing!' I added.</p>
+
+<p>'Ye will find more than rest,' said the voice, ignoring me altogether (I
+am often ignored in this way),&mdash;'more than rest, if ye stay long enough,
+and learn of the hidden treasures. Are you willing to seek for them?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly!' said Raymond. 'Where shall we dig?'</p>
+
+<p>'I speak not of earthly digging, young man. Will you give me the charge
+of your souls?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, if you will also take charge of our bodies.'</p>
+
+<p>'Supper, for instance,' I said, again coming to the front; 'and beds.'</p>
+
+<p>The shadow groaned; then it called out wearily, 'Roxana!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Samuel,' replied an answering voice, and a second shadow became
+dimly visible on the threshold. 'The woman will attend to your earthly
+concerns,' said Waiting Samuel.&mdash;'Roxana, take them hence.' The second
+shadow came forward, and, without a word, took our hands and led us
+along the dark passage like two children, warning us now of a step, now
+of a turn, then of two steps, and finally opening a door and ushering us
+into a fire-lighted room. Peat was burning upon the wide hearth, and a
+singing kettle hung above it on a crane; the red glow shone on a rough
+table, chairs cushioned in bright calico, a loud ticking clock, a few
+gayly flowered plates and cups on a shelf, shining tins against the
+plastered wall, and a cat dozing<a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a> on a bit of carpet in one corner. The
+cheery domestic scene, coming after the wide, dusky Flats, the silence,
+the darkness, and the mystical words of the shadowy Samuel, seemed so
+real and pleasant that my heart grew light within me.</p>
+
+<p>'What a bright fire!' I said. 'This is your domain, I suppose,
+Mrs.&mdash;Mrs.&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not Mrs.; I am called Roxana,' replied the woman, busying herself
+at the hearth.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, you are then the sister of Waiting Samuel, I presume?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I am his wife, fast enough; we were married by the minister twenty
+years ago. But that was before Samuel had seen any visions.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does he see visions?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, almost every day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you see them, also?'</p>
+
+<p>'O no; I'm not like Samuel. He has great gifts, Samuel has! The visions
+told us to come here; we used to live away down in Maine.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed! That was a long journey!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! And we didn't come straight either. We'd get to one place and
+stop, and I'd think we were going to stay, and just get things
+comfortable, when Samuel would see another vision, and we'd have to
+start on. We wandered in that way two or three years, but at last we got
+here, and something in the Flats seemed to suit the spirits, and they
+let us stay.'</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, through the half-open door, came a voice.</p>
+
+<p>'An evil beast is in this house. Let him depart.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean me?' said Raymond, who had made himself comfortable in a
+rocking-chair.</p>
+
+<p>'Nay; I refer to the four-legged beast,' continued the voice. 'Come
+forth, Apollyon!'</p>
+
+<p>Poor Captain Kidd seemed to feel that he was the person in question, for
+he hastened under the table with drooping tail and mortified aspect.</p>
+
+<p>'Roxana, send forth the beast,' said the voice.</p>
+
+<p>The woman put down her dishes and went toward the table; but I
+interposed.</p>
+
+<p>'If he must go, I will take him,' I said, rising.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he must go,' replied Roxana, holding open the door. So I ordered
+out the unwilling Captain, and led him into the passageway.<a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Out of the house, out of the house,' said Waiting Samuel. 'His feet may
+not rest upon this sacred ground. I must take him hence in the boat.'</p>
+
+<p>'But where?'</p>
+
+<p>'Across the channel there is an islet large enough for him; he shall
+have food and shelter, but here he cannot abide,' said the man, leading
+the way down to the boat.</p>
+
+<p>The Captain was therefore ferried across, a tent was made for him out of
+some old mats, food was provided, and, lest he should swim back, he was
+tethered by a long rope, which allowed him to prowl around his domain
+and take his choice of three runs for drinking-water. With all these
+advantages, the ungrateful animal persisted in howling dismally as we
+rowed away. It was company he wanted, and not a 'dear little isle of his
+own'; but then, he was not by nature poetical.</p>
+
+<p>'You do not like dogs?' I said, as we reached our strand again.</p>
+
+<p>'St. Paul wrote, 'Beware of dogs,' replied Samuel.</p>
+
+<p>'But did he mean&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I argue not with unbelievers; his meaning is clear to me, let that
+suffice,' said my strange host, turning away and leaving me to find my
+way back alone. A delicious repast was awaiting me. Years have gone by,
+the world and all its delicacies have been unrolled before me, but the
+memory of the meals I ate in that little kitchen in the Flats haunts me
+still. That night it was only fish, potatoes, biscuit, butter, stewed
+fruit, and coffee; but the fish was fresh, and done to the turn of a
+perfect broil, not burn; the potatoes were fried to a rare crisp, yet
+tender perfection, not chippy brittleness; the biscuits were light,
+flaked creamily, and brown on the bottom; the butter freshly churned,
+without salt; the fruit, great pears, with their cores extracted,
+standing whole on their dish, ready to melt, but not melted; and the
+coffee clear and strong, with yellow cream and the old-fashioned,
+unadulterated loaf-sugar. We ate. That does not express it; we devoured.
+Roxana waited on us, and warmed up into something like excitement under
+our praises.</p>
+
+<p>'I <i>do</i> like good cooking,' she confessed. 'It's about all I have left
+of my old life. I go over to the mainland for supplies, and in the
+winter I try all kinds of new things to pass away the time. But Samuel
+is a poor eater, he is; and so<a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a> there isn't much comfort in it. I'm
+mighty glad you've come, and I hope you'll stay as long as you find it
+pleasant.' This we promised to do, as we finished the potatoes and
+attacked the great jellied pears. 'There's one thing, though,' continued
+Roxana; 'you'll have to come to our service on the roof at sunrise.'</p>
+
+<p>'What service?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'The invocation. Dawn is a holy time, Samuel says, and we always wait
+for it; 'before the morning watch,' you know,&mdash;it says so in the Bible.
+Why, my name means 'the dawn,' Samuel says; that's the reason he gave it
+to me. My real name, down in Maine, was Maria,&mdash;Maria Ann.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I may not wake in time,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'Samuel will call you.'</p>
+
+<p>'And if, in spite of that, I should sleep over?'</p>
+
+<p>'You would not do that; it would vex him,' replied Roxana calmly.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you believe in these visions, madam?' asked Raymond, as we left the
+table, and seated ourselves in front of the dying fire.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' said Roxana; emphasis was unnecessary, of course she believed.</p>
+
+<p>'Almost every day there is a spiritual presence, but it does not always
+speak. They come and hold long conversations in the winter, when there
+is nothing else to do; that I think is very kind of them, for in the
+summer Samuel can fish and his time is more occupied. There were
+fisherman in the Bible, you know; it is a holy calling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does Samuel ever go over to the mainland?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, he never leaves the Flats. I do all the business; take over the
+fish, and buy the supplies. I bought all our cattle,' said Roxana, with
+pride. 'I poled them away over here on a raft, one by one, when they
+were little things.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where do you pasture them?'</p>
+
+<p>'Here on the island; there are only a few acres, to be sure; but I can
+cut boat-loads of the best feed within a stone's throw. If we only had a
+little more solid ground! But this island is almost the only solid piece
+in the Flats.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your butter is certainly delicious.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I do my best. It is sold to the steamers and vessels as fast as I
+make it.'<a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a></p>
+
+<p>'You keep yourself busy, I see.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, I like to work; I could'nt get on without it.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Samuel?'</p>
+
+<p>'He is not like me,' replied Roxana. 'He has great gifts, Samuel has. I
+often think how strange it is that I should be the wife of such a holy
+man! He is very kind to me, too; he tells me about the visions, and all
+the other things.'</p>
+
+<p>'What things?' said Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'The spirits, and the sacred influence of the sun; the fiery triangle,
+and the thousand years of joy. The great day is coming, you know; Samuel
+is waiting for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace, and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety,'
+chanted a voice in the hall; the tone was deep and not without melody,
+and the words singularly impressive in that still, remote place.</p>
+
+<p>'Go,' said Roxana, instantly pushing aside her half-washed dishes.
+'Samuel will take you to your room.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you leave your work unfinished?' I said, with some curiosity,
+noticing that she had folded her hands without even hanging up her
+towels.</p>
+
+<p>'We do nothing after the evening chant,' she said. 'Pray go; he is
+waiting.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can we have candles?'</p>
+
+<p>'Waiting Samuel allows no false lights in his house; as imitations of
+the glorious sun, they are abominable to him. Go, I beg.'</p>
+
+<p>She opened the door, and we went into the passage; it was entirely dark,
+but the man led us across to our room, showed us the position of our
+beds by sense of feeling, and left us without a word. After he had gone,
+we struck matches, one by one, and, with the aid of their uncertain
+light, managed to get into our respective mounds in safety; they were
+shake-downs on the floor, made of fragrant hay instead of straw, covered
+with beautifully clean white sheets and patchwork coverlids, and
+provided with large, luxurious pillows. O pillow! Has any one sung thy
+praises? When tired or sick, when discouraged or sad, what gives so much
+comfort as a pillow? Not your curled hair brickbats; not your stiff,
+fluted, rasping covers, or limp cotton cases; but a good, generous, soft
+pillow, deftly cased in smooth, cool, untrimmed linen! There's a friend
+for<a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a> you, a friend who changes not, a friend who soothes all your
+troubles with a soft caress, a mesmeric touch of balmy forgetfulness.</p>
+
+<p>I slept a dreamless sleep. Then I heard a voice borne toward me as if
+coming from far over a sea, the waves bringing it nearer and nearer.</p>
+
+<p>'Awake!' it cried; 'awake! The night is far spent; the day is at hand.
+Awake!'</p>
+
+<p>I wondered vaguely over this voice as to what manner of voice it might
+be, but it came again, and again, and finally I awoke to find it at my
+side. The gray light of dawn came through the open windows, and Raymond
+was already up, engaged with a tub of water and crash towels. Again the
+chant sounded in my ears.</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, very well,' I said, testily. 'But if you sing before
+breakfast you'll cry before night, Waiting Samuel.'</p>
+
+<p>Our host had disappeared, however, without hearing my flippant speech,
+and slowly I rose from my fragrant couch; the room was empty save for
+our two mounds, two tubs of water, and a number of towels hanging on
+nails. 'Not overcrowded with furniture,' I remarked.</p>
+
+<p>'From Maine to Florida, from Massachusetts to Missouri, have I
+travelled, and never before found water enough,' said Raymond. 'If
+waiting for the judgment day raises such liberal ideas of tubs and
+towels, I would that all the hotel-keepers in the land could be convened
+here to take a lesson.'</p>
+
+<p>Our green hunting-clothes were soon donned, and we went out into the
+hall; a flight of broad steps led up to the roof; Roxana appeared at the
+top and beckoned us thither. We ascended, and found ourselves on the
+flat roof. Samuel stood with his face toward the east and his arms
+outstretched, watching the horizon; behind was Roxana, with her hands
+clasped on her breast and her head bowed: thus they waited. The eastern
+sky was bright with golden light; rays shot upward toward the zenith,
+where the rose-lights of dawn were retreating down to the west, which
+still lay in the shadow of night; there was not a sound; the Flats
+stretched out dusky and still. Two or three minutes passed, and then a
+dazzling rim appeared above the horizon, and the first gleam of sunshine
+was shed over the level earth; simultaneously the two began a chant,<a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a>
+simple as a Gregorian, but rendered in correct full tones. The words,
+apparently, had been collected from the Bible:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"The heavens declare the glory of God&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy cometh in the morning!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">In them is laid out the path of the sun&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy cometh in the morning!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">As a bride groom goeth he forth;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">As a strong man runneth his race,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">The outgoings of the morning</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Praise thee, O Lord!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Like a pelican in the wilderness,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">Like a sparrow upon the house top,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">I wait for the Lord.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0.25em;">It is good that we hope and wait,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wait&mdash;wait.</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The chant over, the two stood a moment silently, as if in contemplation,
+and then descended, passing us without a word or sign, with their hands
+clasped before them as though forming part of an unseen procession.
+Raymond and I were left alone upon the house-top.</p>
+
+<p>'After all, it is not such a bad opening for a day; and there is the
+pelican of the wilderness to emphasize it,' I said, as a heron flew up
+from the water, and, slowly flapping his great wings, sailed across to
+another channel. As the sun rose higher, the birds began to sing; first
+a single note here and there, then a little trilling solo, and finally
+an outpouring of melody on all sides,&mdash;land-birds and water-birds, birds
+that lived in the Flats, and birds that had flown thither for
+breakfast,&mdash;the whole waste was awake and rejoicing in the sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>'What a wild place it is!' said Raymond. 'How boundless it looks! One
+hill in the distance, one dark line of forest, even one tree, would
+break its charm. I have seen the ocean, I have seen the prairies, I have
+seen the great desert, but this is like a mixture of the three. It is an
+ocean full of land,&mdash;a prairie full of water,&mdash;a desert full of
+verdure.'</p>
+
+<p>'Whatever it is, we shall find in it fishing and aquatic hunting to our
+hearts' content,' I answered.</p>
+
+<p>And we did. After a breakfast delicious as the supper, we took our boat
+and a lunch-basket, and set out. 'But how shall we ever find our way
+back?' I said, pausing as I recalled the<a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a> network of runs, and the
+will-o'-the-wisp aspect of the house, the previous evening.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no other way but to take a large ball of cord with you, fasten
+one end on shore, and let it run out over the stern of the boat,' said
+Roxana. 'Let it run out loosely, and it will float on the water. When
+you want to come back you can turn around and wind it in as you come.
+<i>I</i> can read the Flats like a book, but they're very blinding to most
+people; and you might keep going round in a circle. You will do better
+not to go far, anyway. I'll wind the bugle on the roof an hour before
+sunset; you can start back when you hear it; for it's awkward getting
+supper after dark.' With this musical promise we took the clew of twine
+which Roxana rigged for us in the stern of our boat, and started away,
+first releasing Captain Kidd, who was pacing his islet in sullen
+majesty, like another Napoleon on St. Helena. We took a new channel and
+passed behind the house, where the imported cattle were feeding in their
+little pasture; but the winding stream soon bore us away, the house sank
+out of sight, and we were left alone.</p>
+
+<p>We had fine sport that morning among the ducks,&mdash;wood, teal, and
+canvas-back,&mdash;shooting from behind our screens woven of rushes; later in
+the day we took to fishing. The sun shone down, but there was a cool
+September breeze, and the freshness of the verdure was like early
+spring. At noon we took our lunch and a <i>siesta</i> among the water-lilies.
+When we awoke we found that a bittern had taken up his position near by,
+and was surveying us gravely:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'The moping bittern, motionless and stiff,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">That on a stone so silently and stilly</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">Stands, an apparent sentinel, as if</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">To guard the water-lily,'"</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="nind">quoted Raymond. The solemn bird, in his dark uniform, seemed quite
+undisturbed by our presence; yellow-throats and swamp-sparrows also came
+in numbers to have a look at us; and the fish swam up to the surface and
+eyed us curiously. Lying at ease in the boat, we in our turn looked down
+into the water. There is a singular fascination in looking down into a
+clear stream as the boat floats above; the mosses and twining
+water-plants seem to have arbors and grottoes in their recesses, where
+delicate marine creatures might live, naiads and mermaids<a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a> of miniature
+size; at least we are always looking for them. There is a fancy, too,
+that one may find something,&mdash;a ring dropped from fair fingers idly
+trailing in the water; a book which the fishes have read thoroughly; a
+scarf caught among the lilies; a spoon with unknown initials; a drenched
+ribbon, or an embroidered handkerchief. None of these things did we
+find, but we did discover an old brass breastpin, whose probable glass
+stone was gone. It was a paltry trinket at best, but I fished it out
+with superstitious care,&mdash;a treasure-trove of the Flats. '"Drowned,"' I
+said, pathetically, '"drowned in her white robes&mdash;"'</p>
+
+<p>'And brass breastpin,' added Raymond, who objected to sentiment, true or
+false.</p>
+
+<p>'You Philistine! Is nothing sacred to you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not brass jewelry, certainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Take some lilies and consider them,' I said, plucking several of the
+queenly blossoms floating along-side.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Cleopatra art thou, regal blossom,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Floating in thy galley down the Nile,&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">All my soul does homage to thy splendor,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All my heart grows warmer in thy smile;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Yet thou smilest for thine own grand pleasure,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Caring not for all the world beside,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">As in insolence of perfect beauty,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sailest thou in silence down the tide.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">"Loving, humble river all pursue thee,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wafted are their kisses at thy feet;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Fiery sun himself cannot subdue thee,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Calm thou smilest through his raging heat;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Naught to thee the earth's great crowd of blossoms,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Naught to thee the rose-queen on her throne;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .25em;">Haughty empress of the summer waters,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Livest thou, and diest, all alone."</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+<p>This from Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'Where did you find that?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'It is my own.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course! I might have known it. There is a certain rawness of style
+and versification which&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'That's right,' interrupted Raymond; 'I know just what you are going to
+say. The whole matter of opinion is a game of 'follow-my-leader'; not
+one of you dares admire anything<a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a> unless the critics say so. If I had
+told you the verses were by somebody instead of a nobody, you would have
+found wonderful beauties in them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Exactly. My motto is, 'Never read anything unless it is by a somebody.'
+For, don't you see, that a nobody, if he is worth anything, will grow
+into a somebody, and, if he isn't worth anything you will have saved
+your time!'</p>
+
+<p>'But it is not merely a question of growing,' said Raymond; 'it is a
+question of critics.'</p>
+
+<p>'No; there you are mistaken. All the critics in the world can neither
+make nor crush a true poet.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is poetry?' said Raymond, gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>At this comprehensive question, the bittern gave a hollow croak, and
+flew away with his long legs trailing behind him. Probably he was not of
+an æsthetic turn of mind, and dreaded lest I should give a ramified
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>Through the afternoon we fished when the fancy struck us, but most of
+the time we floated idly, enjoying the wild freedom of the watery waste.
+We watched the infinite varieties of the grasses, feathery,
+lance-leaved, tufted, drooping, banner-like, the deer's tongue, the
+wild-celery, and the so-called wild-rice, besides many unknown beauties
+delicately fringed, as difficult to catch and hold as thistle-down.
+There were plants journeying to and fro on the water like nomadic tribes
+of the desert; there were fleets of green leaves floating down the
+current; and now and then we saw a wonderful flower with scarlet bells
+but could never approach near enough to touch it.</p>
+
+<p>At length, the distant sound of the bugle came to us on the breeze, and
+I slowly wound in the clew, directing Raymond as he pushed the boat
+along, backing water with the oars. The sound seemed to come from every
+direction. There was nothing for it to echo against, but, in place of
+the echo, we heard a long, dying cadence, which sounded on over the
+Flats fainter and fainter in a sweet, slender note, until a new tone
+broke forth. The music floated around us, now on one side, now on the
+other; if it had been our only guide, we should have been completely
+bewildered. But I wound the cord steadily; and at last suddenly, there
+before us, appeared the house with Roxana on the roof, her figure
+outlined against the sky. Seeing us, she played a final salute, and then
+descended, carrying the imprisoned music with her.<a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a></p>
+
+<p>That night we had our supper at sunset. Waiting Samuel had his meals by
+himself in the front room. 'So that in case the spirits come, I shall
+not be there to hinder them,' explained Roxana. 'I am not holy, like
+Samuel; they will not speak before me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you have your meals apart in the winter, also?' asked Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is not very sociable,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'Samuel never was sociable,' replied Roxana. 'Only common folks are
+sociable; but he is different. He has great gifts, Samuel has.'</p>
+
+<p>The meal over, we went up on the roof to smoke our cigars in the open
+air; when the sun had disappeared and his glory had darkened into
+twilight, our host joined us. He was a tall man, wasted and gaunt, with
+piercing dark eyes and dark hair, tinged with gray; hanging down upon
+his shoulders. (Why is it that long hair on the outside is almost always
+the sign of something wrong in the inside of a man's head?) He wore a
+black robe like a priest's cassock, and on his head a black skull-cap
+like the <i>Faust</i> of the operatic stage.</p>
+
+<p>'Why were the Flats called St. Clair?' I said; for there is something
+fascinating to me in the unknown history of the West. 'There isn't any,'
+do you say? you I mean, who are strong in the Punic wars! you, too, who
+are so well up in Grecian mythology. But there is history, only we don't
+know it. The story of Lake Huron in the time of the Pharaohs, the story
+of the Mississippi during the reign of Belshazzar, would be worth
+hearing. But it is lost? All we can do is to gather together the details
+of our era,&mdash;the era when Columbus came to this New World, which was,
+nevertheless, as old as the world he left behind.</p>
+
+<p>'It was in 1679,' began Waiting Samuel, 'that La Salle sailed up the
+Detroit River in his little vessel of sixty tons burden, called the
+Griffin. He was accompanied by thirty-four men, mostly fur-traders; but
+there were among them two holy monks, and Father Louis Hennepin, a friar
+of the Franciscan order. They passed up the river and entered the little
+lake just south of us, crossing it and these Flats on the 12th of
+August, which is St. Clair's day. Struck with the gentle beauty<a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a> of the
+scene, they named the waters after their saint, and at sunset sang a <i>Te
+Deum</i> in her honor.'</p>
+
+<p>'And who was Saint Clair?'</p>
+
+<p>'Saint Clair, virgin and abbess, born in Italy, in 1193, made superior
+of a convent by the great Francis, and canonized for her distinguished
+virtues,' said Samuel, as though reading from an encyclopædia.</p>
+
+<p>'Are you a Roman Catholic?' asked Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'I am everything; all sincere faith is sacred to me,' replied the man.
+'It is but a question of names.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell us of your religion,' said Raymond, thoughtfully; for in religions
+Raymond was something of a polyglot.</p>
+
+<p>'You would hear of my faith? Well, so be it. Your question is the work
+of spirit influence. Listen, then. The great Creator has sowed immensity
+with innumerable systems of suns. In one of these systems a spirit
+forgot that he was a limited, subordinate being, and misused his
+freedom; how, we know not. He fell, and with him all his kind. A new
+race was then created for the vacant world, and, according to the fixed
+purpose of the Creator, each was left free to act for himself; he loves
+not mere machines. The fallen spirit, envying the new creature called
+man, tempted him to sin. What was his sin? Simply the giving up of his
+birthright, the divine soul-sparkle, for an earthly pleasure. The triune
+divine deep, the mysterious fiery triangle, which, to our finite minds,
+best represents the Deity, now withdrew his personal presence; the
+elements, their balance broken, stormed upon man; his body, which was
+once ethereal, moving by mere volition, now grew heavy; and it was also
+appointed unto him to die. The race thus darkened, crippled, and
+degenerate, sank almost to the level of brutes, the mind-fire alone
+remaining of all their spiritual gifts. They lived on blindly, and as
+blindly died. The sun, however, was left to them, a type of what they
+had lost.</p>
+
+<p>'At length, in the fulness of time, the world-day of four thousand
+years, which was appointed by the council in heaven for the regiving of
+the divine and forfeited soul-sparkle, as on the fourth day of creation
+the great sun was given, there came to earth the earth's compassionate
+Saviour, who took upon himself our degenerate body, and revivified it
+with the divine soul-sparkle, who overcame all our temptations, and
+finally allowed the tinder of our sins to perish in his own painful
+death upon<a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a> the cross. Through him our paradise body was restored, it
+waits for us on the other side of the grave. He showed us what it was
+like on Mount Tabor, with it he passed through closed doors, walked upon
+the water, and ruled the elements; so will it be with us. Paradise will
+come again; this world will, for a thousand years, see its first estate;
+it will be again the Garden of Eden. America is the great
+escaping-place; here will the change begin. As it is written, 'Those who
+escape to my utmost borders.' As the time draws near, the spirits who
+watch above are permitted to speak to those souls who listen. Of these
+listening, waiting souls am I; therefore have I withdrawn myself. The
+sun himself speaks to me, the greatest spirit of all; each morning I
+watch for his coming; each morning I ask, 'Is it to-day?' Thus do I
+wait.'</p>
+
+<p>'And how long have you been waiting?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'I know not; time is nothing to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is the great day near at hand?' said Raymond.</p>
+
+<p>'Almost at its dawning; the last days are passing.'</p>
+
+<p>'How do you know this?'</p>
+
+<p>'The spirits tell me. Abide here, and perhaps they will speak to you
+also,' replied Waiting Samuel.</p>
+
+<p>We made no answer. Twilight had darkened into night, and the Flats had
+sunk into silence below us. After some moments I turned to speak to our
+host; but, noiselessly as one of his own spirits, he had departed.</p>
+
+<p>'A strange mixture of Jacob B&oelig;hmen, chiliastic dreams, Christianity,
+sun-worship, and modern spiritualism,' I said. 'Much learning hath made
+the Maine farmer mad.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he mad?' said Raymond. 'Sometimes I think we are all mad.'</p>
+
+<p>'We should certainly become so if we spent our time in speculations upon
+subjects clearly beyond our reach. The whole race of philosophers from
+Plato down are all the time going round in a circle. As long as we are
+in the world, I for one propose to keep my feet on solid ground;
+especially as we have no wings. 'Abide here, and perhaps the spirits
+will speak to you,' did he say? I think very likely they will, and to
+such good purpose that you won't have any mind left.'</p>
+
+<p>'After all, why should not spirits speak to us?' said Raymond, in a
+musing tone.<a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a></p>
+
+<p>As he uttered these words the mocking laugh of a loon came across the
+dark waste.</p>
+
+<p>'The very loons are laughing at you,' I said, rising. 'Come down; there
+is a chill in the air, composed in equal parts of the Flats, the night,
+and Waiting Samuel. Come down, man; come down to the warm kitchen and
+common-sense.'</p>
+
+<p>We found Roxana alone by the fire, whose glow was refreshingly real and
+warm; it was like the touch of a flesh-and-blood hand, after vague
+dreamings of spirit-companions, cold and intangible at best, with the
+added suspicion that, after all, they are but creations of our own
+fancy, and even their spirit-nature fictitious. Prime, the graceful
+<i>raconteur</i> who goes a-fishing, says, 'firelight is as much of a
+polisher in-doors as moonlight outside.' It is; but with a different
+result. The moonlight polishes everything into romance, the firelight
+into comfort. We brought up two remarkably easy old chairs in front of
+the hearth and sat down, Raymond still adrift with his wandering
+thoughts, I, as usual, making talk out of the present. Roxana sat
+opposite, knitting in hand, the cat purring at her feet. She was a
+slender woman, with faded light hair, insignificant features, small dull
+blue eyes, and a general aspect which, with every desire to state at
+its best, I can only call commonplace. Her gown was limp, her hands
+roughened with work, and there was no collar around her yellow throat. O
+magic rim of white, great is thy power! With thee, man is civilized;
+without thee, he becomes at once a savage.</p>
+
+<p>'I am out of pork,' remarked Roxana, casually; 'I must go over to the
+mainland to-morrow and get some.'</p>
+
+<p>If it had been anything but pork! In truth, the word did not chime with
+the mystic conversation of Waiting Samuel. Yes; there was no doubt about
+it. Roxana's mind was sadly commonplace.</p>
+
+<p>'See what I have found,' I said, after a while, taking out the old
+breastpin. 'The stone is gone; but who knows? It might have been a
+diamond dropped by some French duchess, exiled, and fleeing for life
+across these far Western waters; or perhaps that German Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other, who, about one hundred years ago,
+was dead and buried in Russia, and travelling in America at the same
+time, a sort of a female wandering Jew, who has been done up in stories
+ever since.'<a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a></p>
+
+<p>(The other day, in Bret Harte's 'Melons,' I saw the following: 'The
+singular conflicting conditions of John Brown's body and soul were, at
+that time, beginning to attract the attention of American youth.' That
+is good, isn't it? Well, at the time I visited the Flats, the singular
+conflicting conditions of the Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other had, for a long time, haunted me.)</p>
+
+<p>Roxana's small eyes were near-sighted; she peered at the empty setting,
+but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>'It is water-logged,' I continued, holding it up in the firelight, 'and
+it hath a brassy odor; nevertheless, I feel convinced that it belonged
+to the princess.'</p>
+
+<p>Roxana leaned forward and took the trinket; I lifted up my arms and gave
+a mighty stretch, one of those enjoyable lengthenings-out which belong
+only to the healthy fatigue of country life. When I drew myself in
+again, I was surprised to see Roxana's features working, and her rough
+hands trembling, as she held the battered setting.</p>
+
+<p>'It was mine,' she said; 'my dear old cameo breastpin that Abby gave me
+when I was married. I saved it and saved it, and wouldn't sell it, no
+matter how low we got, for someway it seemed to tie me to home and
+baby's grave. I used to wear it when I had baby&mdash;I had neck-ribbons
+then; we had things like other folks, and on Sundays we went to the old
+meeting-house on the green. Baby is buried there&mdash;O baby, baby!' and the
+voice broke into sobs.</p>
+
+<p>'You lost a child?' I said, pitying the sorrow which was, which must be,
+so lonely, so unshared.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. O baby! baby!' cried the woman, in a wailing tone. 'It was a
+little boy, gentlemen, and it had curly hair, and could just talk a word
+or two; its name was Ethan, after father, but we all called it Robin.
+Father was mighty proud of Robin, and mother, too. It died, gentlemen,
+my baby died, and I buried it in the old churchyard near the thorn-tree.
+But still I thought to stay there always along with mother and the
+girls; I never supposed anything else, until Samuel began to see
+visions. Then, everything was different, and everybody against us; for,
+you see, I would marry Samuel, and when he left off working and began to
+talk to the spirits, the folks all said, 'I told yer so, Maria Ann!'
+Samuel wasn't of Maine stock exactly: his father was a sailor, and 't
+was suspected that<a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a> his mother was some kind of an East-Injia woman, but
+no one knew. His father died and left the boy on the town, so he lived
+round from house to house until he got old enough to hire out. Then he
+came to our farm, and there he stayed. He had wonderful eyes, Samuel
+had, and he had a way with him&mdash;well, the long and short of it was, that
+I got to thinking about him, and couldn't think of anything else. The
+folks didn't like it at all, for, you see, there was Adam Rand, who had
+a farm of his own over the hill; but I never could bear Adam Rand. The
+worst of it was, though, that Samuel never so much as looked at me,
+hardly. Well, it got to be the second year, and Susan, my younger
+sister, married Adam Rand. Adam, he thought he'd break up my nonsense,
+that's what they called it, and so he got a good place for Samuel away
+down in Connecticut, and Samuel said he'd go, for he was always
+restless, Samuel was. When I heard it, I was ready to lie down and die.
+I ran out into the pasture and threw myself down by the fence like a
+crazy woman. Samuel happened to come by along the lane, and saw me; he
+was always kind to all the dumb creatures, and stopped to see what was
+the matter, just as he would have stopped to help a calf. It all came
+out then, and he was awful sorry for me. He sat down on the top bar of
+the fence and looked at me, and I sat on the ground a-crying with my
+hair down, and my face all red and swollen.</p>
+
+<p>'I never thought to marry, Maria Ann,' says he.</p>
+
+<p>'O, please do, Samuel,' says I, 'I'm a real good housekeeper, I am, and
+we can have a little land of our own, and everything nice&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'But I wanted to go away. My father was a sailor,' he began, a-looking
+off toward the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>'O, I can't stand it,' says I, beginning to cry again. Well after that
+he 'greed to stay at home and marry me, and the folks they had to give
+in to it when they saw how I felt. We were married on Thanksgiving day,
+and I wore a pink delaine, purple neck-ribbon, and this very breastpin
+that sister Abby gave me,&mdash;it cost four dollars, and came 'way from
+Boston. Mother kissed me, and said she hoped I'd be happy.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I shall, mother,' says I, 'Samuel has great gifts; he isn't
+like common folks.'</p>
+
+<p>'But common folks is a deal comfortabler,' says mother. The folks never
+understood Samuel.<a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Well, we had a chirk little house and bit of land, and baby came, and
+was so cunning and pretty. The visions had begun to appear then, and
+Samuel said he must go.</p>
+
+<p>'Where?' says I.</p>
+
+<p>'Anywhere the spirits lead me,' says he.</p>
+
+<p>'But baby couldn't travel, and so it hung along; Samuel left off work,
+and everything ran down to loose ends; I did the best I could, but it
+wasn't much. Then baby died, and I buried him under the thorn-tree, and
+the visions came thicker and thicker; Samuel told me as how this time he
+must go. The folks wanted me to stay behind without him; but they never
+understood me nor him. I could no more leave him than I could fly; I was
+just wrapped up in him. So we went away; I cried dreadfully when it came
+to leaving the folks and Robin's little grave, but I had so much to do
+after we got started, that there wasn't time for anything but work. We
+thought to settle in ever so many places, but after a while there would
+always come a vision, and I'd have to sell out and start on. The little
+money we had was soon gone, and then I went out for days' work, and
+picked up any work I could get. But many's the time we were cold, and
+many's the time we were hungry, gentlemen. The visions kept coming, and
+by and by I got to like 'em too. Samuel he told me all they said when I
+came home nights, and it was nice to hear all about the thousand years
+of joy, when there'd be no more trouble, and when Robin would come back
+to us again. Only I told Samuel that I hoped the world wouldn't alter
+much, because I wanted to go back to Maine for a few days, and see all
+the old places. Father and mother are dead, I suppose,' said Roxana,
+looking up at us with a pathetic expression in her small dull eyes.
+Beautiful eyes are doubly beautiful in sorrow; but there is something
+peculiarly pathetic in small dull eyes looking up at you, struggling to
+express the grief that lies within, like a prisoner behind the bars of
+his small dull window.</p>
+
+<p>'And how did you lose your breastpin?' I said, coming back to the
+original subject.</p>
+
+<p>'Samuel found I had it, and threw it away soon after we came to the
+Flats; he said it was vanity.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you been here long?'</p>
+
+<p>'O yes, years. I hope we shall stay here always now,&mdash;at least, I mean
+until the thousand years of joy begin,&mdash;for it's<a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a> quiet, and Samuel's
+more easy here than in any other place. I've got used to the lonely
+feeling, and don't mind it much now. There's no one near us for miles,
+Rosabel Lee and Liakim; they don't come here, for Samuel can't abide
+'em, but sometimes I stop there on my way over from the mainland, and
+have a little chat about the children. Rosabel Lee has got lovely
+children, she has! They don't stay there in the winter, though; the
+winters <i>are</i> long, I don't deny it.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you do then?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I knit and cook, and Samuel reads to me, and has a great many
+visions.'</p>
+
+<p>'He has books, then!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, all kinds; he's a great reader, and he has boxes of books about
+the spirits, and such things.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, that makest me dwell in safety,' chanted
+the voice in the hall; and our evening was over.</p>
+
+<p>At dawn we attended the service on the roof; then, after breakfast, we
+released Captain Kidd, and started out for another day's sport. We had
+not rowed far when Roxana passed us, poling her flat-boat rapidly along;
+she had a load of fish and butter, and was bound for the mainland
+village. 'Bring us back a Detroit paper,' I said. She nodded and passed
+on, stolid and homely in the morning light. Yes, I was obliged to
+confess to myself that she <i>was</i> commonplace.</p>
+
+<p>A glorious day we had on the moors in the rushing September wind.
+Everything rustled and waved and danced, and the grass undulated in long
+billows as far as the eye could see. The wind enjoyed himself like mad;
+he had no forests to oppose him, no heavy water to roll up,&mdash;nothing but
+merry, swaying grasses. It was the west wind,&mdash;'of all the winds, the
+best wind.' The east wind was given us for our sins; I have long
+suspected that the east wind was the angel that drove Adam out of
+Paradise. We did nothing that day,&mdash;nothing but enjoy the rushing
+breeze. We felt like Bedouins of the desert, with our boat for a steed.
+'He came flying upon the wings of the wind,' is the grandest image of
+the Hebrew poet.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon we heard the bugle and returned, following our
+clew as before. Roxana had brought a late paper, and, opening it, I saw
+the account of an accident,&mdash;a yacht run<a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a> down on the Sound and five
+drowned; five, all near and dear to us. Hastily and sadly we gathered
+our possessions together; the hunting, the fishing, were nothing now;
+all we thought of was to get away, to go home to the sorrowing ones
+around the new-made graves. Roxana went with us in her boat to guide us
+back to the little lighthouse. Waiting Samuel bade us no farewell, but
+as we rowed away we saw him standing on the house-top gazing after us.
+We bowed; he waved his hand; and then turned away to look at the sunset.
+What were our little affairs to a man who held converse with the
+spirits!</p>
+
+<p>We rowed in silence. How long, how weary seemed the way! The grasses,
+the lilies, the silver channels,&mdash;we no longer even saw them. At length
+the forward boat stopped. 'There's the lighthouse yonder,' said Roxana.
+'I won't go over there to-night. Mayhap you'd rather not talk, and
+Rosabel Lee will be sure to talk to me. Good by.' We shook hands, and I
+laid in the boat a sum of money to help the little household through the
+winter; then we rowed on toward the lighthouse. At the turn I looked
+back; Roxana was sitting motionless in her boat; the dark clouds were
+rolling up behind her; and the Flats looked wild and desolate. 'God help
+her!' I said.</p>
+
+<p>A steamer passed the lighthouse and took us off within the hour.</p>
+
+<p>Years rolled away, and I often thought of the grassy sea, and its
+singularly strange associations, and intended to go there; but the
+intention never grew into reality. In 1870, however, I was travelling
+westward, and, finding myself at Detroit, a sudden impulse took me up to
+the Flats. The steamer sailed up the beautiful river and crossed the
+little lake, both unchanged. But, alas! the canal predicted by the
+captain fifteen years before had been cut, and, in all its unmitigated
+ugliness, stretched straight through the enchanted land. I got off at
+the new and prosaic brick lighthouse, half expecting to see Liakim and
+his Rosabel Lee; but they were not there, and no one knew anything about
+them. And Waiting Samuel? No one knew anything about him either. I took
+a skiff, and, at the risk of losing myself, I rowed away into the
+wilderness, spending the day among the silvery channels, which were as
+beautiful as ever. There were fewer birds; I saw no grave herons, no
+sombre bitterns, and the fish had grown shy. But the water-lilies were
+beautiful as of old, and the grasses as delicate and<a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a> luxuriant. I had
+scarcely a hope of finding the old house on the island, but late in the
+afternoon, by a mere chance, I rowed up unexpectedly to its little
+landing-place. The walls stood firm and the roof unbroken; I landed and
+walked up the overgrown path. Opening the door, I found the few old
+chairs and tables in their places, weather-beaten and decayed, the
+storms had forced a way within, and the floor was insecure; but the gay
+crockery was on its shelf, the old tins against the wall, and all looked
+so natural that I almost feared to find the mortal remains of the
+husband and wife as I went from room to room. They were not there,
+however, and the place looked as if it had been uninhabited for years. I
+lingered in the doorway. What had become of them? Were they dead? Or had
+a new vision sent them farther toward the setting sun? I never knew,
+although I made many inquiries. If dead, they were probably lying
+somewhere under the shining waters; if alive, they must have 'folded
+their tents, like the Arabs, and silently stolen away.'</p>
+
+<p>I rowed back in the glow of the evening across the grassy sea. 'It is
+beautiful, beautiful,' I thought, 'but it is passing away. Already
+commerce has invaded its borders; a few more years and its loveliness
+will be but a legend of the past. The bittern has vanished; the loon has
+fled away. Waiting Samuel was the prophet of the waste; he has gone, and
+the barriers are broken down. No artist has painted, no poet has sung
+your wild, vanishing charm; but in one heart, at least, you have a
+place, O lovely land of St. Clair!'<a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_LADY_OF_LITTLE_FISHING" id="THE_LADY_OF_LITTLE_FISHING"></a>THE LADY OF LITTLE FISHING.</h2>
+
+<p class="nind">I<small>T</small> was an island in Lake Superior.</p>
+
+<p>I beached my canoe there about four o'clock in the afternoon, for the
+wind was against me and a high sea running. The late summer of 1850, and
+I was coasting along the south shore of the great lake, hunting,
+fishing, and camping on the beach, under the delusion that in that way I
+was living 'close to the great heart of nature,'&mdash;whatever that may
+mean. Lord Bacon got up the phrase; I suppose he knew. Pulling the boat
+high and dry on the sand with the comfortable reflection that here were
+no tides to disturb her with their goings-out and comings-in, I strolled
+through the woods on a tour of exploration, expecting to find bluebells,
+Indian pipes, juniper rings, perhaps a few agates along-shore, possibly
+a bird or two for company. I found a town.</p>
+
+<p>It was deserted; but none the less a town, with three streets,
+residences, a meeting-house, gardens, a little park, and an attempt at a
+fountain. Ruins are rare in the New World. I took off my hat. 'Hail,
+homes of the past!' I said. (I cultivated the habit of thinking aloud
+when I was living close to the great heart of nature.) 'A human voice
+resounds through your arches' (there were no arches,&mdash;logs won't arch;
+but never mind) 'once more, a human hand touches your venerable walls, a
+human foot presses your deserted hearth-stones.' I then selected the
+best half of the meeting-house for a camp, and kindled a glorious
+bonfire in the park. 'Now that you are illuminated with joy, O Ruin,' I
+remarked, 'I will go down to the beach and bring up my supplies. It is
+long since I have had a roof over my head; I promise you to stay until
+your last residence is well burned; then I will make a final cup of
+coffee with the<a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a> meeting-house itself, and depart in peace, leaving your
+poor old bones buried in decent ashes.'</p>
+
+<p>The ruin made no objection, and I took up my abode there, the roof of
+the meeting-house was still water-tight (which is an advantage when the
+great heart of nature grows wet). I kindled a fire on the sacerdotal
+hearth, cooked my supper, ate it in leisurely comfort, and then
+stretched myself on a blanket to enjoy an evening pipe of peace,
+listening meanwhile to the sounding of the wind through the great
+pine-trees. There was no door to my sanctuary, but I had the cosey far
+end; the island was uninhabited, there was not a boat in sight at
+sunset, nothing could disturb me unless it might be a ghost. Presently a
+ghost came in.</p>
+
+<p>It did not wear the traditional gray tarlatan armor of Hamlet's father,
+the only ghost with whom I am well acquainted; this spectre was clad in
+substantial deer-skin garments, and carried a gun and loaded game-bag.
+It came forward to my hearth, hung up its gun, opened its game-bag, took
+out some birds, and inspected them gravely.</p>
+
+<p>'Fat?' I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>'They'll do,' replied the spectre, and forthwith set to work preparing
+them for the coals. I smoked on in silence. The spectre seemed to be a
+skilled cook, and after deftly broiling its supper, it offered me a
+share; I accepted. It swallowed a huge mouthful and crunched with its
+teeth; the spell was broken, and I knew it for a man of flesh and blood.</p>
+
+<p>He gave his name as Reuben, and proved himself an excellent camping
+companion; in fact, he shot all the game, caught all the fish, made all
+the fires, and cooked all the food for us both. I proposed to him to
+stay and help me burn up the ruin, with the condition that when the last
+timber of the meeting-house was consumed, we should shake hands and
+depart, one to the east, one to the west, without a backward glance. 'In
+that way we shall not infringe upon each other's personality,' I said.</p>
+
+<p>'Agreed,' replied Reuben.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man of between fifty and sixty years, while I was on the sunny
+side of thirty; he was reserved, I was always generously affable; he was
+an excellent cook, while I&mdash;well, I wasn't; he was taciturn, and so, in
+payment for the work he did, I entertained him with conversation, or
+rather monologue,<a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a> in my most brilliant style. It took only two weeks to
+burn up the town, burned we never so slowly; at last it came to the
+meeting house, which now stood by itself in the vacant clearing. It was
+a cool September day; we cooked breakfast with the roof, dinner with the
+sides, supper with the odds and ends, and then applied a torch to the
+framework. Our last camp-fire was a glorious one. We lay stretched on
+our blankets, smoking and watching the glow. 'I wonder, now, who built
+the old shanty,' I said in a musing tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' replied Reuben, slowly, 'if you really want to know, I will tell
+you. I did.'</p>
+
+<p>'You!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes.'</p>
+
+<p>'You didn't do it alone?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; there were about forty of us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Here?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; here at Little Fishing;'</p>
+
+<p>'Little Fishing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; Little Fishing Island. That is the name of the place.'</p>
+
+<p>'How long ago was this?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thirty years.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hunting and trapping, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; for the Northwest and Hudson Bay Companies.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wasn't a meeting house an unusual accompaniment?'</p>
+
+<p>'Most unusual.'</p>
+
+<p>'Accounted for in this case by&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'A woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' I said in a tone of relish; 'then of course there is a story?'</p>
+
+<p>'There is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Out with it, comrade. I scarcely expected to find the woman and her
+story up here; but since the irrepressible creature would come, out with
+her by all means. She shall grace our last pipe together, the last
+timber of our meeting-house, our last night on Little Fishing. The dawn
+will see us far from each other, to meet no more this side heaven. Speak
+then, O comrade mine! I am in one of my rare listening moods!'</p>
+
+<p>I stretched myself at ease and waited. Reuben was a long time beginning
+but I was too indolent to urge him. At length he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'They were a rough set here at Little Fishing, all the worse<a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a> for being
+all white men; most of the other camps were full of half-breeds and
+Indians. The island had been a station away back in the early days of
+the Hudson Bay Company; it was a station for the Northwest Company while
+that lasted; then it went back to the Hudson, and stayed there until the
+company moved its forces farther to the north. It was not at any time a
+regular post; only a camp for the hunters. The post was farther down the
+lake. O, but those were wild days! You think you know the wilderness,
+boy; but you know nothing, absolutely nothing. It makes me laugh to see
+the airs of you city gentlemen with your fine guns, improved
+fishing-tackle, elaborate paraphernalia, as though you were going to wed
+the whole forest, floating up and down the lake for a month or two in
+the summer! You should have seen the hunters of Little Fishing going out
+gayly when the mercury was down twenty degrees below zero, for a week in
+the woods. You should have seen the trappers wading through the hard
+snow, breast high, in the gray dawn, visiting the traps and hauling home
+the prey. There were all kinds of men here, Scotch, French, English, and
+American; all classes, the high and the low, the educated and the
+ignorant; all sorts, the lazy and the hard-working. One thing only they
+all had in common,&mdash;badness. Some had fled to the wilderness to escape
+the law, others to escape order; some had chosen the wild life because
+of its wildness, others had drifted into it from sheer lethargy. This
+far northern border did not attract the plodding emigrant, the
+respectable settler. Little Fishing held none of that trash; only a
+reckless set of fellows who carried their lives in their hands, and
+tossed them up, if need be without a second thought.'</p>
+
+<p>'And other people's lives without a third,' I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; if they deserved it. But nobody whined; there wasn't any nonsense
+here. The men went hunting and trapping, got the furs ready for the
+bateaux, ate when they were hungry, drank when they were thirsty, slept
+when they were sleepy, played cards when they felt like it, and got
+angry and knocked each other down whenever they chose. As I said before,
+there wasn't any nonsense at Little Fishing,&mdash;until <i>she</i> came.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! the she!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, the Lady,&mdash;our Lady, as we called her. Thirty-one years ago; how
+long it seems!'<a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a></p>
+
+<p>'And well it may,' I said. 'Why, comrade, I wasn't born then!'</p>
+
+<p>This stupendous fact seemed to strike me more than my companion; he went
+on with his story as though I had not spoken.</p>
+
+<p>'One October evening, four of the boys had got into a row over the
+cards; the rest of us had come out of our wigwams to see the fun, and
+were sitting around on the stumps, chaffing them, and laughing; the
+camp-fire was burning in front, lighting up the woods with a red glow
+for a short distance, and making the rest doubly black all around. There
+we were, as I said before, quite easy and comfortable, when suddenly
+there appeared among us, as though she had dropped from heaven, a woman!</p>
+
+<p>'She was tall and slender, the firelight shone full on her pale face and
+dove-colored dress, her golden hair was folded back under a little white
+cap, and a white kerchief lay over her shoulders; she looked spotless. I
+stared; I could scarcely believe my eyes; none of us could. There was
+not a white woman west of the Sault Ste. Marie. The four fellows at the
+table sat as if transfixed; one had his partner by the throat, the other
+two were disputing over a point in the game. The lily lady glided up to
+their table, gathered the cards in her white hands, slowly, steadily,
+without pause or trepidation before their astonished eyes, and then,
+coming back, she threw the cards into the centre of the glowing fire.
+'Ye shall not play away your souls,' she said in a clear, sweet voice.
+'Is not the game sin? And its reward death?' And then, immediately, she
+gave us a sermon, the like of which was never heard before; no argument,
+no doctrine, just simple, pure entreaty. 'For the love of God,' she
+ended, stretching out her hands toward our silent, gazing group,&mdash;'for
+the love of God, my brothers, try to do better.'</p>
+
+<p>'We did try; but it was not for the love of God. Neither did any of us
+feel like brothers.</p>
+
+<p>'She did not give any name; we called her simply our Lady, and she
+accepted the title. A bundle carefully packed in birch-bark was found on
+the beach. 'Is this yours?' asked black Andy.</p>
+
+<p>'It is,' replied the Lady; and removing his hat, the black-haired giant
+carried the package reverently inside her lodge. For we had given her
+our best wigwam, and fenced it off with<a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a> pine saplings so that it looked
+like a miniature fortress. The Lady did not suggest this stockade; it
+was our own idea, and with one accord we worked at it like beavers, and
+hung up a gate with a ponderous bolt inside.</p>
+
+<p>'Mais, ze can nevare farsen eet wiz her leetle fingares,' said Frenchy,
+a sallow little wretch with a turn for handicraft; so he contrived a
+small spring which shot the bolt into place with a touch. The Lady lived
+in her fortress; three times a day the men carried food to her door,
+and, after tapping gently, withdrew again, stumbling over each other in
+their haste. The Flying Dutchman, a stolid Holland-born sailor, was our
+best cook, and the pans and kettles were generally left to him; but now
+all wanted to try their skill, and the results were extraordinary.</p>
+
+<p>'She's never touched that pudding, now' said Nightingale Jack,
+discontentedly, as his concoction of berries and paste came back from
+the fortress door.</p>
+
+<p>'She will starve soon, I think,' remarked the Doctor, calmly; 'to my
+certain knowledge she has not had an eatable meal for four days.' And he
+lighted a fresh pipe. This was an aside, and the men pretended not to
+hear it; but the pans were relinquished to the Dutchman from that time
+forth.</p>
+
+<p>'The Lady wore always her dove-colored robe, and little white cap,
+through whose muslin we could see the glimmer of her golden hair. She
+came and went among us like a spirit; she knew no fear; she turned our
+life inside out, nor shrank from its vileness. It seemed as though she
+was not of earth, so utterly impersonal was her interest in us, so
+heavenly her pity. She took up our sins, one by one, as an angel might;
+she pleaded with us for our own lost souls, she spared us not, she held
+not back one grain of denunciation, one iota of future punishment.
+Sometimes, for days, we would not see her; then, at twilight, she would
+glide out among us, and, standing in the light of the camp-fire, she
+would preach to us as though inspired. We listened to her; I do not mean
+that we were one whit better at heart, but still we listened to her,
+always. It was a wonderful sight, that lily face under the pine-trees,
+that spotless woman standing alone in the glare of the fire, while
+around her lay forty evil-minded, lawless men, not one of whom but would
+have killed his neighbor for so much as a disrespectful thought of her.<a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a></p>
+
+<p>'So strange was her coming, so almost supernatural her appearance in
+this far forest, that we never wondered over its cause, but simply
+accepted it as a sort of miracle; your thoroughly irreligious men are
+always superstitious. Not one of us would have asked a question, and we
+should never have known her story had she not herself told it to us; not
+immediately, not as though it was of any importance, but quietly,
+briefly, and candidly as a child. She came, she said, from Scotland,
+with a band of God's people. She had always been in one house, a
+religious institution of some kind, sewing for the poor when her
+strength allowed it, but generally ill, and suffering much from pain in
+her head; often kept under the influence of soothing medicines for days
+together. She had no father or mother, she was only one of this band;
+and when they decided to send out missionaries to America, she begged to
+go, although but a burden; the sea voyage restored her health; she grew,
+she said, in strength and in grace, and her heart was as the heart of a
+lion. Word came to her from on high that she should come up into the
+northern lake-country and preach the gospel there; the band were going
+to the verdant prairies. She left them in the night, taking nothing but
+her clothing; a friendly vessel carried her north; she had preached the
+gospel everywhere. At the Sault the priests had driven her out, but
+nothing fearing, she went on into the wilderness, and so, coming part of
+the way in canoes, part of the way along-shore, she had reached our far
+island. Marvellous kindness had she met with, she said; the Indians, the
+half-breeds, the hunters, and the trappers had all received her, and
+helped her on her way from camp to camp. They had listened to her words
+also. At Portage they had begged her to stay through the winter, and
+offered to build her a little church for Sunday services. Our men looked
+at each other. Portage was the worst camp on the lake, notorious for its
+fights; it was a mining settlement.</p>
+
+<p>'But I told them I must journey on toward the west,' continued our Lady.
+'I am called to visit every camp on this shore before winter sets in; I
+must soon leave you also.'</p>
+
+<p>'The men looked at each other again; the Doctor was spokesman. 'But, my
+Lady,' he said 'the next post is Fort William, two hundred and
+thirty-five miles away on the north shore.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is almost November; the snow will soon be six and ten<a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a> feet deep.
+The Lady could never travel through it,&mdash;could she now?' said Black
+Andy, who had begun eagerly, but in his embarrassment at the sound of
+his own voice, now turned to Frenchy and kicked him covertly into
+answering.</p>
+
+<p>'Nevare!' replied the Frenchman; he had intended to place his hand upon
+his heart to give emphasis to his word, but the Lady turned her calm
+eyes that way, and his grimy paw fell, its gallantry wilted.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought there was one more camp,&mdash;at Burntwood River,' said our Lady
+in a musing tone. The men looked at each other a third time; there was a
+camp there, and they all knew it. But the Doctor was equal to the
+emergency.</p>
+
+<p>'That camp, my Lady,' he said gravely,&mdash;'that camp no longer exists!
+Then he whispered hurriedly to the rest of us, 'It will be an easy job
+to clean it out, boys. We'll send over a party to-night; it's only
+thirty-five miles.'</p>
+
+<p>'We recognized superior genius; the Doctor was our oldest and deepest
+sinner. But what struck us most was his anxiety to make good his lie.
+Had it then come to this,&mdash;that the Doctor told the truth?</p>
+
+<p>'The next day we all went to work to build our Lady a church; in a week
+it was completed. There goes its last cross-beam now into the fire; it
+was a solid piece of work, wasn't it? It has stood this climate thirty
+years. I remember the first Sunday service: we all washed, and dressed
+ourselves in the best we had; we scarcely knew each other we were so
+fine. The Lady was pleased with the church, but yet she had not said she
+would stay all winter; we were still anxious. How she preached to us
+that day! We had made a screen of young spruces set in boxes, and her
+figure stood out against the dark green background like a thing of
+light. Her silvery voice rang through the log-temple, her face seemed to
+us like a star. She had no color in her cheeks at any time; her dress,
+too, was colorless. Although gentle, there was an iron inflexibility
+about her slight, erect form. We felt, as we saw her standing there,
+that if need be she would walk up to the cannon's mouth, with a smile.
+She took a little book from her pocket and read to us a hymn,&mdash;'O come,
+all ye faithful,' the old 'Adeste Fideles.' Some of us knew it; she
+sang, and gradually, shamefacedly, voices joined in. It was a sight to
+see Nightingale Jack solemnly singing away about 'choirs of angels';
+but<a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a> it was a treat to hear him, too,&mdash;what a voice he had! Then our
+Lady prayed, kneeling down on the little platform in front of the
+evergreens, clasping her hands, and lifting her eyes to heaven. We did
+not know what to do at first, but the Doctor gave us a severe look and
+bent his head, and we all followed his lead.</p>
+
+<p>'When service was over and the door opened, we found that it had been
+snowing; we could not see out through the windows because white cloth
+was nailed over them in place of glass.</p>
+
+<p>'"Now, my Lady, you will have to stay with us," said the Doctor. We all
+gathered around with eager faces.</p>
+
+<p>'"Do you really believe that it will be for the good of your souls?"
+asked the sweet voice.</p>
+
+<p>'The Doctor believed&mdash;for us all.</p>
+
+<p>'"Do you really hope?"</p>
+
+<p>'The Doctor hoped.</p>
+
+<p>'"Will you try to do your best?"</p>
+
+<p>'The Doctor was sure he would.</p>
+
+<p>'"I will," answered the Flying Dutchman, earnestly. "I moost not fry de
+meat any more; I moost broil!"</p>
+
+<p>'For we had begged him for months to broil, and he had obstinately
+refused; broil represented the good, and fry the evil, to his mind; he
+came out for the good according to his light; but none the less did we
+fall upon him behind the Lady's back, and cuff him into silence.</p>
+
+<p>'She stayed with us all winter. You don't know what the winters are up
+here; steady, bitter cold for seven months, thermometer always below,
+the snow dry as dust, the air like a knife. We built a compact chimney
+for our Lady, and we cut cords of wood into small, light sticks, easy
+for her to lift, and stacked them in her shed; we lined her lodge with
+skins, and we made oil from bear's fat and rigged up a kind of lamp for
+her. We tried to make candles, I remember, but they would not run
+straight; they came out humpbacked and sidling, and burned themselves to
+wick in no time. Then we took to improving the town. We had lived in all
+kinds of huts and lean-to shanties; now nothing would do but regular
+log-houses. If it had been summer, I don't know what we might not have
+run to in the way of piazzas and fancy steps; but with the snow five
+feet deep, all we could accomplish was a plain, square log-house,<a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a> and
+even that took our whole force. The only way to keep the peace was to
+have all the houses exactly alike; we laid out the three streets, and
+built the houses, all facing the meeting-house, just as you found them.'</p>
+
+<p>'And where was the Lady's lodge?' I asked, for I recalled no stockaded
+fortress, large or small.</p>
+
+<p>My companion hesitated a moment. Then he said abruptly, 'it was torn
+down.'</p>
+
+<p>'Torn down!' I repeated. 'Why, what&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Reuben waved his hand with a gesture that silenced me, and went on with
+his story. It came to me then for the first time, that he was pursuing
+the current of his own thoughts rather than entertaining me. I turned to
+look at him with a new interest. I had talked to him for two weeks, in
+rather a patronizing way; could it be that affairs were now, at this
+moment, reversed?</p>
+
+<p>'It took us almost all winter to build those houses,' pursued Reuben.
+'At one time we neglected the hunting and trapping to such a degree,
+that the Doctor called a meeting and expressed his opinion. Ours was a
+voluntary camp, in a measure, but still we had formally agreed to get a
+certain amount of skins ready for the bateaux by early spring; this
+agreement was about the only real bond of union between us. Those whose
+houses were not completed scowled at the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>'"Do you suppose I'm going to live like an Injun when the other fellows
+has regular houses?" inquired Black Andy, with a menacing air.</p>
+
+<p>'"By no means," replied the Doctor, blandly, "My plan is this: build at
+night."</p>
+
+<p>'"At night?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes; by the light of pine fires."</p>
+
+<p>'We did. After that, we faithfully went out hunting and trapping as long
+as daylight lasted, and then, after supper, we built up huge fires of
+pine logs, and went to work on the next house. It was a strange picture;
+the forest deep in snow, black with night, the red glow of the great
+fires, and our moving figures working on as complacently as though
+daylight, balmy air, and the best of tools were ours.</p>
+
+<p>'The Lady liked our industry. She said our new houses showed that the
+"new cleanliness of our inner man required a<a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a> cleaner tabernacle for the
+outer." I don't know about our inner man, but our outer was certainly
+much cleaner.</p>
+
+<p>'One day the Flying Dutchman made one of his unfortunate remarks. "De
+boys t'inks you'll like dem better in nize houses," he announced when,
+happening to pass the fortress, he found the Lady standing at her gate
+gazing at the work of the preceding night. Several of the men were near
+enough to hear him, but too far off to kick him into silence as usual;
+but they glared at him instead. The Lady looked at the speaker with her
+dreamy, far-off eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'"De boys t'inks you like dem," began the Dutchman again, thinking she
+did not comprehend; but at that instant he caught the combined glare of
+the six eyes, and stopped abruptly, not all knowing what was wrong, but
+sure there was something.</p>
+
+<p>'"Like them," repeated the Lady, dreamily; "yea I do like them. Nay,
+more, I love them. Their souls are as dear to me as the souls of
+brothers."</p>
+
+<p>'Say, Frenchy, have you got a sister?' said Nightingale Jack,
+confidentially, that evening.</p>
+
+<p>'Mais oui,' said Frenchy.</p>
+
+<p>'You think all creation of her, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'We fight like four cats and one dog; <i>she</i> is the cats,' said the
+Frenchman concisely.</p>
+
+<p>'You don't say so!' replied Jack. 'Now, I never had a sister,&mdash;but I
+thought perhaps&mdash;' He paused, and the sentence remained unfinished.</p>
+
+<p>'The Nightingale and I were housemates. We sat late over our fire not
+long after that; I gave a gigantic yawn. 'This lifting logs half the
+night is enough to kill one,' I said, getting out my jug. Sing
+something, Jack. It's a long time since I've heard anything but hymns.'</p>
+
+<p>'Jack always went off as easily as a music-box: you only had to wind him
+up; the jug was the key. I soon had him in full blast. He was giving out</p>
+
+<p class="c">'The minute gun at sea,&mdash;the minute gun at sea,'</p>
+
+<p class="nind">with all the pathos of his tenor voice, when the door burst open and the
+whole population rushed in upon us.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean by shouting thes way, in the middle of the night?'<a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Shut up your howling, Jack.'</p>
+
+<p>'How do you suppose any one can sleep?'</p>
+
+<p>'It's a disgrace to the camp!'</p>
+
+<p>'Now then, gentlemen,' I replied, for my blood was up (whiskey,
+perhaps), 'is this my house, or isn't it? If I want music, I'll have it.
+Time was when you were not so particular.'</p>
+
+<p>'It was the first word of rebellion. The men looked at each other, then
+at me.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll go and ask her if she objects,' I continued, boldly.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no. You shall not.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let him go,' said the Doctor, who stood smoking his pipe on the
+outskirts of the crowd. 'It is just as well to have that point settled
+now. The Minute Gun at Sea is a good moral song in its way,&mdash;a sort of
+marine missionary affair.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I started, the others followed; we all knew that the Lady watched
+late; we often saw the glimmer of her lamp far on toward morning. It was
+burning now. The gate was fastened, I knocked; no answer. I knocked
+again, and yet a third time; still silence. The men stood off at a
+little distance and waited. 'She shall answer,' I said angrily, and
+going around to the side where the stockade came nearer to the wall of
+the lodge, I knocked loudly on the close-set saplings. For answer I
+thought I heard a low moan; I listened, it came again. My anger
+vanished, and with a mighty bound I swung myself up to the top of the
+stockade, sprung down inside, ran around, and tried the door. It was
+fastened; I burst it open and entered. There, by the light of the
+hanging lamp, I saw the Lady on the floor, apparently dead. I raised her
+in my arms; her heart was beating faintly, but she was unconscious. I
+had seen many fainting fits; this was something different; the limbs
+were rigid. I laid her on the low couch, loosened her dress, bathed her
+head and face in cold water, and wrenched up one of the warm
+hearth-stones to apply to her feet. I did not hesitate; I saw that it
+was a dangerous case, something like a trance or an 'ectasis.' Somebody
+must attend to her, and there were only men to choose from. Then why not
+I?</p>
+
+<p>'I heard the others talking outside; they could not understand the
+delay; but I never heeded, and kept on my work. To tell the truth, I had
+studied medicine, and felt a genuine enthusiasm over a rare case. Once
+my patient opened her eyes and looked at me, then she lapsed away again
+into unconsciousness<a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a> in spite of all my efforts. At last the men
+outside came in, angry and suspicious; they had broken down the gate.
+There we all stood, the whole forty of us, around the deathlike form of
+our Lady.</p>
+
+<p>'What a night it was! To give her air, the men camped outside in the
+snow with a line of pickets in whispering distance from each other from
+the bed to their anxious group. Two were detailed to help me,&mdash;the
+Doctor (whose title was a sarcastic D. D.) and Jimmy, a gentle little
+man, excellent at bandaging broken limbs. Every vial in the camp was
+brought in,&mdash;astonishing lotions, drops, and balms; each man produced
+something; they did their best, poor fellows, and wore out the night
+with their anxiety. At dawn our Lady revived suddenly, thanked us all,
+and assured us that she felt quite well again; the trance was over. 'It
+was my old enemy,' she said, 'the old illness of Scotland, which I hoped
+had left me for ever. But I am thankful that it is no worse; I have come
+out of it with a clear brain. Sing a hymn of thankfulness for me, dear
+friends, before you go.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, we sang on Sunday in the church; but then she led us, and we had a
+kind of an idea that after all she did not hear us. But now, who was to
+lead us? We stood awkwardly around the bed, and shuffled our hats in our
+uneasy fingers. The Doctor fixed his eyes upon the Nightingale; Jack saw
+it and cowered. 'Begin,' said the Doctor in a soft voice; but gripping
+him in the back at the same time with an ominous clutch.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know the words,' faltered the unhappy Nightingale.</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"'Now thank we all our God,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: .5em;">With hearts and hands and voices,'</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="nind">began the Doctor, and repeated Luther's hymn with perfect accuracy from
+beginning to end. 'What will happen next? The Doctor knows hymns!' we
+thought in profound astonishment. But the Nightingale had begun, and
+gradually our singers joined in; I doubt whether the grand old choral
+was ever sung by such a company before or since. There was never any
+further question, by the way, about that minute gun at sea; it stayed at
+sea as far as we were concerned.</p>
+
+<p><a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a>'Spring came, the faltering spring of Lake Superior. I won't go into my
+own story, but such as it was, the spring brought it back to me with new
+force. I wanted to go,&mdash;and yet I didn't. 'Where,' do you ask? To see
+her, of course,&mdash;a woman, the most beautiful,&mdash;well, never mind all
+that. To be brief, I loved her; she scorned me; I thought I had learned
+to hate her&mdash;but&mdash;I wasn't sure about it now. I kept myself aloof from
+the others and gave up my heart to the old sweet, bitter memories; I did
+not even go to church on Sundays. But all the rest went; our Lady's
+influence was as great as ever. I could hear them singing; they sang
+better now that they could have the door open; the pent-up feeling used
+to stifle them. The time for the bateaux drew near, and I noticed that
+several of the men were hard at work packing the furs in bales, a job
+usually left to the <i>voyageurs</i> who came with the boats. 'What's that
+for?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>'You don't suppose we're going to have those bateaux rascals camping on
+Little Fishing, do you?' said black Andy, scornfully. 'Where are your
+wits, Reub?'</p>
+
+<p>'And they packed every skin, rafted them all over to the mainland, and
+waited there patiently for days, until the train of slow boats came
+along and took off the bales; then they came back in triumph. 'Now we're
+secure for another six months,' they said, and began to lay out a park,
+and gardens for every house. The Lady was fond of flowers; the whole
+town burst into blossom. The Lady liked green grass; all the clearing
+was soon tufted over like a lawn. The men tried the ice-cold lake every
+day, waiting anxiously for the time when they could bathe. There was no
+end to their cleanliness; Black Andy had grown almost white again, and
+Frenchy's hair shone like oiled silk.</p>
+
+<p>'The Lady stayed on, and all went well. But, gradually, there came a
+discovery. The Lady was changing,&mdash;had changed! Gradually, slowly, but
+none the less distinctly to the eyes that knew her every eyelash. A
+little more hair was visible over the white brow; there was a faint
+color in the cheeks, a quicker step; the clear eyes were sometimes
+downcast now, the steady voice softer, the words at times faltering. In
+the early summer the white cap vanished, and she stood among us crowned
+only with her golden hair; one day she was seen through her open door
+sewing on a white robe! The men noted all these things silently; they
+were even a little troubled as at something they<a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a> did not understand,
+something beyond their reach. Was she planning to leave them?</p>
+
+<p>'It's my belief she's getting ready to ascend right up into heaven,'
+said Salem.</p>
+
+<p>'Salem was a little 'wanting,' as it is called, and the men knew it;
+still, his words made an impression. They watched the Lady with an awe
+which was almost superstitious; they were troubled, and knew not why.
+But the Lady bloomed on. I did not pay much attention to all this; but I
+could not help hearing it. My heart was moody, full of its own sorrows;
+I secluded myself more and more. Gradually I took to going off into the
+mainland forests for days on solitary hunting expeditions. The camp went
+on its way rejoicing; the men succeeded, after a world of trouble, in
+making a fountain which actually played, and they glorified themselves
+exceedingly. The life grew quite pastoral. There was talk of importing a
+cow from the East, and a messenger was sent to the Sault for certain
+choice supplies against the coming winter. But, in the late summers the
+whisper went round again that the Lady had changed, this time for the
+worse. She looked ill, she drooped from day to day; the new life that
+had come to her vanished, but her former life was not restored. She grew
+silent and sad, she strayed away by herself through the woods, she
+scarcely noticed the men who followed her with anxious eyes. Time
+passed, and brought with it an undercurrent of trouble, suspicion, and
+anger. Everything went on as before; not one habit, not one custom was
+altered; both sides seemed to shrink from the first change, however
+slight. The daily life of the camp was outwardly the same, but brooding
+trouble filled every heart. There was no open discussion, men talked
+apart in twos and threes; a gloom rested over everything, but no one
+said, 'What is the matter?'</p>
+
+<p>'There was a man among us,&mdash;I have not said much of the individual
+characters of our party, but this man was one of the least esteemed, or
+rather liked; there was not much esteem of any kind at Little Fishing.
+Little was known about him; although the youngest man in the camp, he
+was a mooning, brooding creature, with brown hair and eyes and a
+melancholy face. He wasn't hearty and whole-souled, and yet he wasn't an
+out-and-out rascal; he wasn't a leader, and yet he wasn't follower
+either. He wouldn't be; he was like a third horse,<a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a> always. There was no
+goodness about him; don't go to fancying that that was the reason the
+men did not like him, he was as bad as they were, every inch! He never
+shirked his work, and they couldn't get a handle on him anywhere; but he
+was just&mdash;unpopular. The why and the wherefore are of no consequence
+now. Well, do you know what was the suspicion that hovered over the
+camp? It was this: our Lady loved that man!</p>
+
+<p>'It took three months for all to see it, and yet never a word was
+spoken. All saw, all heard; but they might have been blind and deaf for
+any sign they gave. And the Lady drooped more and more.</p>
+
+<p>'September came, the fifteenth; the Lady lay on her couch, pale and
+thin; the door was open and a bell stood beside her, but there was no
+line of pickets whispering tidings of her state to an anxious group
+outside. The turf in the three streets had grown yellow for want of
+water, the flowers in the little gardens had drooped and died, the
+fountain was choked with weeds, and the interiors of the houses were all
+untidy. It was Sunday, and near the hour for service; but the men
+lounged about, dingy and unwashed.</p>
+
+<p>'"A'n't you going to church?" said Salem, stopping at the door of one of
+the houses; he was dressed in his best, with a flower in his
+button-hole.</p>
+
+<p>'"See him now! See the fool," said Black Andy. 'He's going to church, he
+is! And where's the minister, Salem? Answer me that!'</p>
+
+<p>'Why,&mdash;in the church, I suppose,' replied Salem, vacantly.</p>
+
+<p>'"No, she a'n't; not she! She's at home, a-weeping, and a-wailing, and
+a-ger-nashing her teeth," replied Andy with bitter scorn.</p>
+
+<p>'"What for?" said Salem.</p>
+
+<p>'"What for? Why, that's the joke! Hear him, boys; he wants to know what
+for!"</p>
+
+<p>'The loungers laughed,&mdash;a loud, reckless laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'"Well, I'm going anyway," said Salem, looking wonderingly from one to
+the other; he passed on and entered the church.</p>
+
+<p>'"I say, boys, let's have a high old time," cried Andy savagely. "Let's
+go back to the old way and have a jolly Sunday. Let's have out the jugs
+and the cards and be free again!"<a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a></p>
+
+<p>'The men hesitated; ten months and more of law and order held them back.</p>
+
+<p>'"What are you afraid of?" said Andy. "Not of a canting hypocrite, I
+hope. She's fooled us long enough, I say. Come on!" He brought out a
+table and stools, and produced the long-unused cards and a jug of
+whiskey. 'Strike up, Jack,' he cried; give us old Fiery-Eyes.'</p>
+
+<p>'The Nightingale hesitated. Fiery-Eyes was a rollicking drinking song;
+but Andy put the glass to his lips and his scruples vanished in the
+tempting aroma. He began at the top of his voice, partners were chosen,
+and, trembling with excitement and impatience, like prisoners
+unexpectedly set free, the men gathered around, and made their bets.</p>
+
+<p>'"What born fools we've been," said Black Andy, laying down a card.</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes," replied the Flying Dutchman, "porn fools!" And he followed suit.</p>
+
+<p>'But a thin white hand came down on the bits of colored pasteboard. It
+was our Lady. With her hair disordered, and the spots of fever in her
+cheeks, she stood among us again: but not as of old. Angry eyes
+confronted her, and Andy wrenched the cards from her grasp. "No, my
+Lady," he said, sternly; "never again!"</p>
+
+<p>'The Lady, gazed from one face to the next, and so all around the
+circle; all were dark and sullen. Then she bowed her head upon her hands
+and wept aloud.</p>
+
+<p>'There was a sudden shrinking away on all sides, the players rose, the
+cards were dropped. But the Lady glided away, weeping as she went; she
+entered the church door and the men could see her taking her accustomed
+place on the platform. One by one they followed; Black Andy lingered
+till the last, but he came. The service began, and went on falteringly,
+without spirit, with palpable fears of a total breaking down which never
+quite came; the Nightingale sang almost alone, and made sad work with
+the words; Salem joined in confidently, but did not improve the sense of
+the hymn. The Lady was silent. But when the time for the sermon came she
+rose and her voice burst forth.</p>
+
+<p>'"Men, brothers, what have I done? A change has come over the town, a
+change has come over your hearts. You shun me! What have I done?"<a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a></p>
+
+<p>'There was a grim silence; then the Doctor rose in his place and
+answered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'"Only this, madam. You have shown yourself to be a woman."</p>
+
+<p>'"And what did you think me?"</p>
+
+<p>'"A saint."</p>
+
+<p>'"God forbid!" said the Lady, earnestly. "I never thought myself one."</p>
+
+<p>'"I know that well. But you were a saint to us; hence your influence. It
+is gone."</p>
+
+<p>'"Is it all gone?" asked the Lady, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes. Do not deceive yourself; we have never been one whit better save
+through our love for you. We held you as something high above ourselves;
+we were content to worship you."</p>
+
+<p>'"O no, not me!" said the Lady, shuddering.</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes, you, you alone! But&mdash;our idol came down among us and showed
+herself to be but common flesh and blood! What wonder that we stand
+aghast? What wonder that our hearts are bitter? What wonder (worse than
+all!) that when the awe has quite vanished, there is strife for the
+beautiful image fallen from its niche?"</p>
+
+<p>'The Doctor ceased, and turned away. The Lady stretched out her hands
+towards the others; her face was deadly pale, and there was a bewildered
+expression in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'"O, ye for whom I have prayed, for whom I have struggled to obtain a
+blessing,&mdash;ye whom I have loved so,&mdash;do ye desert me thus?" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>'"You have deserted us," answered a voice.</p>
+
+<p>'"I have not."</p>
+
+<p>'"You have," cried Black Andy, pushing to the front. 'You love that
+Mitchell! Deny it if you dare!'</p>
+
+<p>'There was an irrepressible murmur, then a sudden hush. The angry
+suspicion, the numbing certainty had found voice at last; the secret was
+out. All eyes, which had at first closed with the shock, were now fixed
+upon the solitary woman before them; they burned like coals.</p>
+
+<p>'"Do I?" murmured the Lady, with a strange questioning look that turned
+from face to face,&mdash;"do I?&mdash;Great God! I do." She sank upon her knees
+and buried her face in her trembling hands. "The truth has come to me at
+last,&mdash;I do!"<a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a></p>
+
+<p>'Her voice was a mere whisper, but every ear heard it, and every eye saw
+the crimson rise to the forehead and redden the white throat.</p>
+
+<p>'For a moment there was silence, broken only by the hard breathing of
+the men. Then the Doctor spoke.</p>
+
+<p>'"Go out and bring him in," he cried. "Bring in this Mitchell! It seems
+he has other things to do,&mdash;the blockhead!"</p>
+
+<p>'Two of the men hurried out.</p>
+
+<p>'"He shall not have her," shouted Black Andy. "My knife shall see to
+that!" And he pressed close to the platform. A great tumult arose, men
+talked angrily and clinched their fists, voices rose and fell together.
+"He shall not have her,&mdash;Mitchell! Mitchell!"</p>
+
+<p>'"The truth is, each one of you wants her himself," said the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>'There was a sudden silence, but every man eyed his neighbor jealously.
+Black Andy stood in front, knife in hand, and kept guard. The Lady had
+not moved; she was kneeling with her face buried in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>'"I wish to speak to her," said the Doctor, advancing.</p>
+
+<p>'"You shall not," cried Andy, fiercely interposing.</p>
+
+<p>'"You fool! I love her this moment ten thousand times more than you do.
+But do you suppose I would so much as touch a woman who loved another
+man?"</p>
+
+<p>'The knife dropped; the Doctor passed on and took his place on the
+platform by the Lady's side. The tumult began again, for Mitchell was
+seen coming in the door between his two keepers.</p>
+
+<p>'"Mitchell! Mitchell!" rang angrily through the church.</p>
+
+<p>'"Look, woman!" said the Doctor, bending over the kneeling figure at his
+side. She raised her head and saw the wolfish faces below.</p>
+
+<p>'"They have had ten months of your religion," he said.</p>
+
+<p>'It was his revenge. Bitter, indeed; but he loved her.</p>
+
+<p>'In the mean time the man Mitchell was hauled and pushed and tossed
+forward to the platform by rough hands that longed to throttle him on
+the way. At last, angry himself, but full of wonder, he confronted them,
+this crowd of comrades suddenly turned madmen! "What does this mean?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>'"Mean! mean!" shouted the men; "a likely story! He asks what this
+means!" And they laughed boisterously.<a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a></p>
+
+<p>'The Doctor advanced. 'You see this woman,' he said.</p>
+
+<p>'"I see our Lady."</p>
+
+<p>'"Our Lady no longer; only a woman like any other,&mdash;weak and fickle.
+Take her,&mdash;but begone."</p>
+
+<p>'"Take her!" repeated Mitchell, bewildered.&mdash;"take our Lady! And where?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Fool! Liar! Blockhead!" shouted the crowd below.</p>
+
+<p>'"The truth is simply this, Mitchell," continued the Doctor, quietly.
+"We herewith give you up our Lady,&mdash;ours no longer; for she has just
+confessed, openly confessed, that she loves you."</p>
+
+<p>'Mitchell started back. "Loves me!"</p>
+
+<p>'"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>'Black Andy felt the blade of his knife. "He'll never have her alive,"
+he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>'"But," said Mitchell, bluntly confronting the Doctor, "I don't want
+her."</p>
+
+<p>'"You don't want her?"</p>
+
+<p>'"I don't love her."</p>
+
+<p>'"You don't love her?"</p>
+
+<p>'"Not in the least," he replied, growing angry, perhaps at himself.
+"What is she to me? Nothing. A very good missionary, no doubt; but <i>I</i>
+don't fancy woman-preachers. You may remember that <i>I</i> never gave in to
+her influence; <i>I</i> was never under her thumb. <i>I</i> was the only man in
+Little Fishing who cared nothing for her!"</p>
+
+<p>'And that is the secret of <i>her</i> liking,' murmured the Doctor. 'O woman!
+woman! the same the world over!'</p>
+
+<p>'In the mean time the crowd had stood stupefied.</p>
+
+<p>'"He does not love her!" they said to each other; "he does not want
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>'Andy's black eyes gleamed with joy; he swung himself up on to the
+platform. Mitchell stood there with face dark and disturbed, but he did
+not flinch. Whatever his faults, he was no hypocrite. 'I must leave this
+to-night,' he said to himself, and turned to go. But quick as a flash
+our Lady sprang from her knees and threw herself at his feet. 'You are
+going,' she cried. 'I heard what you said,&mdash;you do not love me! But take
+me with you! Let me be your servant&mdash;your slave&mdash;anything&mdash;anything, so
+that I am not parted from you, my lord and master, my only, only love!'<a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a></p>
+
+<p>'She clasped his ankles with her thin, white hands, and laid her face on
+his dusty shoes.</p>
+
+<p>'The whole audience stood dumb before this manifestation of a great
+love. Enraged, bitter, jealous as was each heart, there was not a man
+but would at that moment have sacrificed his own love that she might be
+blessed. Even Mitchell, in one of those rare spirit-flashes when the
+soul is shown bare in the lightning, asked himself, 'Can I not love her?
+But the soul answered, 'No.' He stooped, unclasped the clinging hands,
+and turned resolutely away.'</p>
+
+<p>'"You are a fool," said the Doctor. 'No other woman will ever love you
+as she does.'</p>
+
+<p>'"I know it," replied Mitchell.</p>
+
+<p>'He stepped down from the platform and crossed the church, the silent
+crowd making a way for him as he passed along; he went out in the
+sunshine, through the village, down towards the beach,&mdash;they saw him no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>'The Lady had fainted. The men bore her back to the lodge and tended her
+with gentle care one week,&mdash;two weeks,&mdash;three weeks. Then she died.</p>
+
+<p>'They were all around her; she smiled upon them all, and called them all
+by name, bidding them farewell. 'Forgive me,' she whispered to the
+Doctor. The Nightingale sang a hymn, sang as he had never sung before.
+Black Andy knelt at her feet. For some minutes she lay scarcely
+breathing; then suddenly she opened her fading eyes. 'Friends,' she
+murmured, 'I am well punished. I thought myself holy,&mdash;I held myself
+above my kind,&mdash;but God has shown me I am the weakest of them all.'</p>
+
+<p>'The next moment she was gone.</p>
+
+<p>'The men buried her with tender hands. Then in a kind of blind fury
+against Fate, they tore down her empty lodge and destroyed its every
+fragment; in their grim determination they even smoothed over the ground
+and planted shrubs and bushes, so that the very location might be lost.
+But they did not stay to see the change. In a month the camp broke up of
+itself, the town was abandoned, and the island deserted for good and
+all; I doubt whether any of the men ever came back or even stopped when
+passing by. Probably I am the only one. Thirty years ago,&mdash;thirty years
+ago!'</p>
+
+<p>'That Mitchell was a great fool,' I said, after a long pause.<a name="page_094" id="page_094"></a> 'The
+Doctor was worth twenty of him; for that matter, so was Black Andy. I
+only hope the fellow was well punished for his stupidity.'</p>
+
+<p>'He was.'</p>
+
+<p>'O, you kept track of him, did you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. He went back into the world, and the woman he loved repulsed him a
+second time, and with even more scorn than before.'</p>
+
+<p>'Served him right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps so; but after all, what could he do? Love is not made to order.
+He loved one, not the other; that was his crime. Yet,&mdash;so strange a
+creature is man,&mdash;he came back after thirty years, just to see our
+Lady's grave.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! Are you&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I am Mitchell,&mdash;Reuben Mitchell.'<a name="page_095" id="page_095"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="MACARIUS_THE_MONK" id="MACARIUS_THE_MONK"></a>MACARIUS THE MONK.<br /><br />
+<small>BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.</small></h2>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="poetry">
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">In the old days, while yet the church was young,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And men believed that praise of God was sung</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">In curbing self as well as singing psalms,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">There lived a monk, Macarius by name,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">A holy man, to whom the faithful came</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">With hungry hearts to hear the wonderous Word.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">In sight of gushing springs and sheltering palms,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He lived upon the desert: from the marsh</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He drank the brackish water, and his food</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Was dates and roots,&mdash;and all his rule was harsh,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">For pampered flesh in those days warred with good,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">From those who came in scores a few there were</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Who feared the devil more than fast and prayer,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And these remained and took the hermit's vow.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">A dozen saints there grew to be; and now</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Macarius, happy, lived in larger care.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He taught his brethren all the lore he knew,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And as they learned, his pious rigors grew.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">His whole intent was on the spirit's goal:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He taught them silence&mdash;words disturb the soul;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He warned of joys, and bade them pray for sorrow,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And be prepared to-day for death to-morrow;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">To know that human life alone was given</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">To test the souls of those who merit heaven;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He bade the twelve in all things be as brothers,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And die to self, to live and work for others.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"For so," he said, "we save our love and labors,<a name="page_096" id="page_096"></a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And each one gives his own and takes his neighbor's."</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Thus long he taught, and while they silent heard,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He prayed for fruitful soil to hold the word.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">One day, beside the marsh they labored long,&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">For worldly work makes sweeter sacred song,&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And when the cruel sun made hot the sand,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And Afric's gnats the sweltering face and hand</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Tormenting stung, a passing traveller stood</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And watched the workers by the reeking flood.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Macarius, nigh, with heat and toil was faint;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The traveller saw, and to the suffering saint</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">A bunch of luscious grapes in pity threw.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Most sweet and fresh and fair they were to view,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">A generous cluster, bursting-rich with wine.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Macarius longed to taste. "The fruit is mine,"</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He said, and sighed; "but I, who daily teach,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Feel now the bond to practice as I preach."</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He gave the cluster to the nearest one,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And with his heavy toil went patient on.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">As one athirst will greet a flowing brim,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The tempting fruit made moist the mouth of him</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Who took the gift; but in the yearning eye</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Rose brighter light: to one whose lip was dry</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">He gave the grapes, and bent him to his spade.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And he who took, unknown to any other,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The sweet refreshment handed to a brother.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">And so, from each to each, till round was made</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">The circuit wholly&mdash;when the grapes at last,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">Untouched and tempting, to Macarius passed.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"Now God be thanked!" he cried, and ceased to toil;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">"The seed was good, but better was the soil.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">My brothers, join with me to bless the day."</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">But, ere they knelt, he threw the grapes away.</span></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
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diff --git a/38998.txt b/38998.txt
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+++ b/38998.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Solomon
+
+Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson
+
+Release Date: February 27, 2012 [EBook #38998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and
+the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+BY
+
+CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.
+
+
+ODESSA, ONTARIO: JAMES NEISH & SONS, PUBLISHERS.
+
+
+
+
+SOLOMON.
+
+
+Midway in the eastern part of Ohio lies the coal country; round-topped
+hills there begin to show themselves in the level plain, trending back
+from Lake Erie; afterwards rising higher and higher, they stretch away
+into Pennsylvania and are dignified by the name of Alleghany Mountains.
+But no names have they in their Ohio birthplace, and little do the
+people care for them, save as storehouses for fuel. The roads lie along
+the slow-moving streams, and the farmers ride slowly over them in their
+broad-wheeled wagons, now and then passing dark holes in the bank from
+whence come little carts into the sunshine, and men, like _silhouettes_,
+walking behind them, with glow-worm lamps fastened in their hat-bands.
+Neither farmers nor miners glance up towards the hilltops; no doubt they
+consider them useless mounds, and, were it not for the coal, they would
+envy their neighbors of the grain-country whose broad, level fields
+stretch unbroken through Central Ohio; as, however, the canal-boats go
+away full, and long lines of coal-cars go away full, and every man's
+coal-shed is full, and money comes back from the great iron-mills of
+Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and Cleveland, the coal country, though unknown
+in a picturesque point of view, continues to grow rich and prosperous.
+
+Yet picturesque it is, and no part more so than the valley where stands
+the village of the quaint German Community on the banks of the
+slow-moving Tuscarawas River. One October day we left the lake behind us
+and journeyed inland, following the water-courses and looking forward
+for the first glimpse of rising ground; blue are the waters of Erie on a
+summer day, red and golden are its autumn sunsets, but so level, so
+deadly level are its shores that, at times, there comes a longing for
+the sight of distant hills. Hence our journey. Night found us still in
+the 'Western Reserve.' Ohio has some queer names of her own for portions
+of her territory, the 'Fire Lands,' the 'Donation Grant,' the 'Salt
+Section,' the 'Refugee's Tract,' and the 'Western Reserve' are names
+well known, although not found on the maps. Two days more and we came
+into the coal country; near by were the 'Moravian Lands,' and at the end
+of the last day's ride we crossed a yellow bridge over a stream called
+the 'One-Leg Creek.'
+
+'I have tried in vain to discover the origin of this name,' I said, as
+we leaned out of the carriage to watch the red leaves float down the
+slow tide.
+
+'Create one, then. A one-legged soldier, a farmer's pretty daughter, an
+elopement in a flat-bottomed boat, and a home upon this stream which
+yields its stores of catfish for their support,' suggested Erminia.
+
+'The original legend would be better than that if we could only find it,
+for real life is always better than fiction,' I answered.
+
+'In real life we are all masked; but in fiction the author shows the
+faces as they are, Dora.'
+
+'I do not believe we are all masked, Erminia. I can read my friends like
+a printed page.'
+
+'O, the wonderful faith of youth!' said Erminia, retiring upon her
+seniority.
+
+Presently the little church on the hill came into view through a vista
+in the trees. We passed the mill and its flowing race, the blacksmith's
+shop, the great grass meadow, and drew up in front of the quaint hotel
+where the trustees allowed the world's people, if uninquisitive and
+decorous, to remain in the Community for short periods of time, on the
+payment of three dollars per week for each person. This village was our
+favorite retreat, our little hiding-place in the hill-country; at that
+time it was almost as isolated as a solitary island, for the Community
+owned thousands of outlying acres and held no intercourse with the
+surrounding townships. Content with their own, unmindful of the rest of
+the world, these Germans grew steadily richer and richer, solving
+quietly the problem of co-operative labor, while the French and
+Americans worked at it in vain with newspapers, orators, and even cannon
+to aid them. The members of the Community were no ascetic anchorites;
+each tiled roof covered a home with a thrifty mother and train of grave
+little children, the girls in short-waisted gowns, kerchiefs, and
+frilled caps, and the boys in tailed coats, long-flapped vests, and
+trousers, as soon as they were able to toddle. We liked them all, we
+liked the life; we liked the mountain-high beds, the coarse snowy linen,
+and the remarkable counterpanes; we liked the cream stewed chicken, the
+Kaese-lab, and fresh butter, but, best of all, the hot bretzels for
+breakfast. And let not the hasty city imagination turn to the hard,
+salty, saw-dust cake in the shape of a broken-down figure eight which is
+served with lager-beer in saloons and gardens. The Community bretzel was
+of a delicate flaky white in the inside, shading away into a
+golden-brown crust of crisp involutions, light as a feather, and flanked
+by little pats of fresh, unsalted butter, and a deep-blue cup wherein
+the coffee was hot, the cream yellow, and the sugar broken lumps from
+the old-fashioned loaf, now alas! obsolete.
+
+We stayed among the simple people and played at shepherdesses and
+pastorellas; we adopted the hours of the birds, we went to church on
+Sunday and sang German chorals as old as Luther. We even played at work
+to the extent of helping gather apples, eating the best, and riding home
+on top of the loaded four-horse wains. But one day we heard of a new
+diversion, a sulphur-spring over the hills about two miles from the
+hotel on land belonging to the Community; and, obeying the fascination
+which earth's native medicines exercise over all earth's children, we
+immediately started in search of the nauseous spring. The road wound
+over the hill, past one of the apple-orchards, where the girls were
+gathering the red fruit, and then down a little declivity where the
+track branched off to the Community coal-mine; then a solitary stretch
+through the thick woods, a long hill with a curve, and at the foot a
+little dell with a patch of meadow, a brook, and a log-house with
+overhanging root, a forlorn house unpainted and desolate. There was not
+even the blue door which enlivened many of the Community dwellings.
+'This looks like the huts of the Black Forest,' said Erminia. 'Who would
+have supposed that we should find such an antique in Ohio!'
+
+'I am confident it was built by the M. B.'s,' I replied. 'They tramped,
+you know, extensively through the State, burying axes and leaving every
+now and then a mastodon behind them.'
+
+'Well, if the Mound-Builders selected this site they showed good taste,'
+said Erminia, refusing, in her afternoon indolence, the argumentum
+nonsensicum with which we were accustomed to enliven our conversation.
+It was, indeed, a lovely spot,--the little meadow, smooth and bright as
+green velvet, the brook chattering over the pebbles, and the hills, gay
+in red and yellow foliage, rising abruptly on all sides. After some
+labor we swung open the great gate and entered the yard, crossed the
+brook on a mossy plank, and followed the path through the grass towards
+the lonely house. An old shepherd-dog lay at the door of a dilapidated
+shed, like a block-house, which had once been a stable; he did not bark,
+but, rising slowly, came along beside us,--a large, gaunt animal that
+looked at us with such melancholy eyes that Erminia stooped to pat him.
+Ermine had a weakness for dogs; she herself owned a wild beast of the
+dog kind that went by the name of the 'Emperor Trajan'; and, accompanied
+by this dignitary, she was accustomed to stroll up the avenues of C----,
+lost in maiden meditations.
+
+We drew near the house and stepped up on the sunken piazza, but no signs
+of life appeared. The little loophole windows were pasted over with
+paper, and the plank door had no latch or handle. I knocked, but no one
+came. 'Apparently it is a haunted house, and that dog is the spectre,' I
+said, stepping back.
+
+'Knock three times,' suggested Ermine; 'that is what they always do in
+ghost-stories.'
+
+'Try it yourself. My knuckles are not cast-iron.'
+
+Ermine picked up a stone and began tapping on the door. 'Open sesame,'
+she said, and it opened.
+
+Instantly the dog slunk away to his block-house and a woman confronted
+us, her dull face lighting up as her eyes ran rapidly over our attire
+from head to foot. 'Is there a sulphur-spring here?' I asked. 'We would
+like to try the water.'
+
+'Yes, it's here fast enough in the back hall. Come in, ladies; I'm right
+proud to see you. From the city, I suppose?'
+
+'From C----,' I answered; 'we are spending a few days in the Community.'
+
+Our hostess led the way through the little hall, and throwing open a
+back door pulled up a trap in the floor, and there we saw the
+spring,--a shallow well set in stones, with a jar of butter cooling in
+its white water. She brought a cup, and we drank. 'Delicious,' said
+Ermine. 'The true, spoiled-egg flavor! Four cups is the minimum
+allowance, Dora.'
+
+'I reckon it is good for the insides,' said the woman, standing with arms
+akimbo and staring at us. She was a singular creature, with large black
+eyes, Roman nose, and a mass of black hair tightly knotted on the top of
+her head, but pinched and gaunt; her yellow forehead was wrinkled with a
+fixed frown, and her thin lips drawn down in permanent discontent. Her
+dress was a shapeless linsey-woolsey gown, and home-made list slippers
+covered her long, lank feet 'Be that the fashion?' she asked, pointing
+to my short, closely fitting walking-dress.
+
+'Yes,' I answered; 'do you like it.'
+
+'Well, it does for you, sis, because you're so little and peaked-like,
+but it wouldn't do for me. The other lady, now, don't wear nothing like
+that; is she even with the style, too?'
+
+'There is such a thing as being above the style, madam,' replied Ermine,
+bending to dip up glass number two.
+
+'Our figgers is a good deal alike,' pursued the woman; 'I reckon that
+fashion ud suit me best.'
+
+Willowy Erminia glanced at the stick-like hostess. 'You do me honor,'
+she said, suavely. 'I shall consider myself fortunate, madam, if you
+will allow me to send you patterns from C----. What are we if not well
+dressed?'
+
+'You have a fine dog,' I began hastily, fearing lest the great, black
+eyes should penetrate the sarcasm; 'what is his name?'
+
+'A stupid beast! He's none of mine; belongs to my man.'
+
+'Your husband?'
+
+'Yes, my man. He works in the coal-mine over the hill.'
+
+'You have no children?'
+
+'Not a brat. Glad of it, too.'
+
+'You must be lonely,' I said, glancing around the desolate house. To my
+surprise suddenly the woman burst into a flood of tears, and sinking
+down on the floor she rocked from side to side, sobbing, and covering
+her face with her bony hands.
+
+'What can be the matter with her?' I said in alarm; and, in my
+agitation, I dipped up some sulphur-water and held it to her lips.
+
+'Take away the nasty smelling stuff,--I hate it!' she cried, pushing the
+cup angrily from her.
+
+Ermine looked on in silence for a moment or two, then she took off her
+neck-tie, a bright-colored Roman scarf, and threw it across the trap
+into the woman's lap. 'Do me the favor to accept that trifle, madame,'
+she said, in her soft voice.
+
+The woman's sobs ceased as she saw the ribbon; she fingered it with one
+hand in silent admiration, wiped her wet face with the skirt of her
+gown, and then suddenly disappeared into an adjoining room, closing the
+door behind her.
+
+'Do you think she is crazy?' I whispered.
+
+'O no; merely pensive.'
+
+'Nonsense, Ermine! But why did you give her that ribbon?'
+
+'To develop her aesthetic taste,' replied my cousin, finishing her last
+glass, and beginning to draw on her delicate gloves.
+
+Immediately I began gulping down my neglected dose; but so vile was the
+odor that some time was required for the operation, and in the midst of
+my struggles our hostess re-appeared. She had thrown on an old dress of
+plaid delaine, a faded red ribbon was tied over her head, and around her
+sinewed throat reposed the Roman scarf pinned with a glass brooch.
+
+'Really, madam, you honor us,' said Ermine, gravely.
+
+'Thankee, marm. It's so long since I've had on anything but that old
+bag, and so long since I've seen anything but them Dutch girls over to
+the Community, with their wooden shapes and wooden shoes, that it sorter
+come over me all 't onct what a miserable life I've had. You see, I
+ain't what I looked like; now I've dressed up a bit I feel more like
+telling you that I come of good Ohio stock, without a drop of Dutch
+blood. My father, he kep' store in Sandy, and I had everything I wanted
+until I must needs get crazy over Painting Sol at the Community. Father,
+he wouldn't hear to it, and so I ran away; Sol, he turned out good for
+nothing to work, and so here I am, yer see, in spite of all his pictures
+making me out the Queen of Sheby.'
+
+'Is your husband an artist?' I asked.
+
+'No, miss. He's a coal-miner, he is. But he used to like to paint me all
+sorts of ways. Wait, I'll show yer.' Going up the rough stairs that led
+into the attic, the woman came back after a moment with a number of
+sheets of drawing-paper which she hung up along the walls with pins for
+our inspection. They were all portraits of the same face, with brick-red
+cheeks, enormous black eyes, and a profusion of shining black hair
+hanging down over plump white shoulders; the costumes were various, but
+the faces were the same. I gazed in silence, seeing no likeness to
+anything earthly. Erminia took out her glasses and scanned the pictures
+slowly.
+
+'Yourself, madam, I perceive' she said, much to my surprise.
+
+'Yes, 'm, that's me,' replied our hostess, complacently. 'I never was
+like those yellow-haired girls over to the Community. Sol allers said my
+face was real rental.'
+
+'Rental?' I repeated, inquiringly.
+
+'Oriental, of course,' said Ermine. 'Mr.--Mr. Solomon is quite right.
+May I ask the names of these characters, madam?'
+
+'Queen of Sheby, Judy, Ruth, Esthy, Po-co-hon-tus, Goddess-aliberty,
+Sunset, and eight Octobers, them with the grapes. Sunset's the one with
+the red paint behind it like clouds.'
+
+'Truly a remarkable collection,' said Ermine. 'Does Mr. Solomon devote
+much time to his art?'
+
+'No, not now. He couldn't make a cent out of it, so he's took to digging
+coal. He painted all them when we was first married, and he went a
+journey all the way to Cincinnati to sell 'em. First he was going to buy
+me a silk dress and some ear-rings, and, after that, a farm. But pretty
+soon home he come on a canal-boat, without a shilling, and a bringing
+all the pictures back with him! Well, then he tried most everything, but
+he never could keep to any one trade, for he'd just as lief quit work in
+the middle of the forenoon and go to painting; no boss 'll stand that,
+you know. We kep' a going down, and I had to sell the few things my
+father give me when he found I was married whether or no,--my chany, my
+feather-beds, and my nice clothes, piece by piece. I held on to the big
+looking' glass for four years, but at last it had to go, and then I just
+gave up and put on a linsey-woolsey gown. When a girl's spirit's once
+broke, she don't care for nothing, you know; so, when the Community
+offered to take Sol back as coal-digger, I just said, "Go," and we
+come.' Here she tried to smear the tears away with her bony hands, and
+gave a low groan.
+
+'Groaning probably relieves you,' observed Ermine.
+
+'Yes, 'm. It's kinder company like, when I'm all alone. But you see it's
+hard on the prettiest girl in Sandy to have to live in this lone lorn
+place. Why, ladies, you mightn't believe it, but I had open-work
+stockings, and feathers in my winter bunnets before I was married!' And
+the tears broke forth afresh.
+
+'Accept my handkerchief,' said Ermine; 'it will serve your purpose
+better than fingers.'
+
+The woman took the dainty cambric and surveyed it curiously, held at
+arm's length. 'Reg'lar thistle-down, now, ain't it?' she said; 'and
+smells like a locust-tree blossom.'
+
+'Mr Solomon, then, belonged to the Community?' I asked, trying to gather
+up the threads of the story.
+
+'No he didn't either; he's no Dutchman, I reckon, he's a Lake County
+man, born near Painesville, he is.'
+
+'I thought you spoke as though he had been in the Community.'
+
+'So he had; he didn't belong, but he worked for 'em since he was a boy,
+did middling well, in spite of the painting, until one day, when he come
+over to Sandy on a load of wood and seen me standing at the door. That
+was the end of him,' continued the woman, with an air of girlish pride;
+'he couldn't work no more for thinking of me.'
+
+'_Ou la vanite va-t-elle se nicher?_' murmured Ermine, rising. 'Come,
+Dora, it is time to return.'
+
+As I hastily finished my last cup of sulphur water, our hostess followed
+Ermine towards the door. 'Will you have your handkercher back, marm?'
+she said, holding it out reluctantly.
+
+'It was a free gift, madam,' replied my cousin; 'I wish you a good
+afternoon.'
+
+'Say, will yer be coming again to-morrow?' asked the woman as I took my
+departure.
+
+'Very likely; good by.'
+
+The door closed, and then, but not till then, the melancholy dog joined
+us and stalked behind until we had crossed the meadow and reached the
+gate. We passed out and turned up the hill; but looking back we saw the
+outline of the woman's head at the upper window, and the dog's head at
+the bars, both watching us out of sight.
+
+In the evening there came a cold wind down from the north, and the
+parlor, with its primitive ventilators, square openings in the side of
+the house, grew chilly. So a great fire of soft coal was built in the
+broad Franklin stove, and before its blaze we made good cheer, nor
+needed the one candle which flickered on the table behind us. Cider
+fresh from the mill, carded ginger-bread, and new cheese crowned the
+scene, and during the evening came a band of singers, the young people
+of the Community, and sang for us the song of the Lorelei, accompanied
+by home-made violins and flageolets. At length we were left alone, the
+candle had burned out, the house door was barred, and the peaceful
+Community was asleep; still we two sat together with our feet upon the
+hearth, looking down into the glowing coals.
+
+    'Ich weisz nicht was soll es bedeuten
+     Dasz ich so traurig bin,'
+
+I said, repeating the opening lines of the Lorelei; 'I feel absolutely
+blue to-night.'
+
+'The memory of the sulphur-woman,' suggested Ermine.
+
+'Sulphur-woman! What a name!'
+
+'Entirely appropriate, in my opinion.'
+
+'Poor thing! How she longed with a great longing for the finery of her
+youth in Sandy.'
+
+'I suppose from those barbarous pictures that she was originally in the
+flesh,' mused Ermine; 'at present she is but a bony outline.'
+
+'Such as she is, however, she has had her romance,' I answered. 'She is
+quite sure that there was one to love her; then let come what may, she
+has had her day.'
+
+'Misquoting Tennyson on such a subject!' said Ermine, with disdain.
+
+'A man's a man for all that and a woman's a woman too,' I retorted. 'You
+are blind, cousin, blinded with pride. That woman has had her tragedy,
+as real and bitter as any that can come to us.'
+
+'What have you to say for the poor man, then!' exclaimed Ermine, rousing
+to the contest. 'If there is a tragedy at the sulphur-house, it belongs
+to the sulphur-man, not to the sulphur-woman.'
+
+'He is not a sulphur-man, he is a coal-man; keep to your bearings,
+Ermine.'
+
+'I tell you,' pursued my cousin, earnestly, 'that I pitied that unknown
+man with inward tears all the while I sat by that trap door. Depend upon
+it, he had his dream, his ideal; and this country girl with her great
+eyes and wealth of hair represented the beautiful to his hungry soul. He
+gave his whole life and hope into her hands, and woke to find his
+goddess a common wooden image.'
+
+'Waste sympathy upon a coal-miner!' I said, imitating my cousin's former
+tone.
+
+'If any one is blind, it is you,' she answered, with gleaming eyes.
+'That man's whole history stood revealed in the selfish complainings of
+that creature. He had been in the Community from boyhood, therefore of
+course he had no chance to learn life, to see its art-treasures. He has
+been shipwrecked, poor soul; hopelessly shipwrecked.'
+
+'She too, Ermine.'
+
+'She!'
+
+'Yes. If he loved pictures, she loved her chany and her feather-beds,
+not to speak of the big looking-glass. No doubt she had other lovers,
+and might have lived in a red brick farmhouse with ten unopened front
+windows and a blistered front door. The wives of men of genius are
+always to be pitied; they do not soar into the crowd of feminine
+admirers who circle round the husband, and they are therefore called
+'grubs,' 'worms of the earth,' 'drudges,' and other sweet titles.'
+
+'Nonsense,' said Ermine, tumbling the arched coals into chaos with the
+poker; 'it's after midnight, let us go up stairs.' I knew very well that
+my beautiful cousin enjoyed the society of several poets, painters,
+musicians, and others of that ilk, without concerning herself about
+their stay-at-home wives.
+
+The next day the winds were out in battle array, howling over the
+Strasburg hill, raging up and down the river, and whirling the colored
+leaves wildly along the lovely road to the One-Leg Creek. Evidently
+there could be no rambling in the painted woods that day, so we went
+over to old Fritz's shop, played on his home-made piano, inspected the
+woolly horse who turned his crank patiently in an underground den, and
+set in motion all the curious little images which the carpenter's deft
+fingers had wrought. Fritz belonged to the Community, and knew nothing
+of the outside world; he had a taste for mechanism, which showed itself
+in many labor-saving devices, and with it all he was the roundest,
+kindest little man, with bright eyes like a canary-bird.
+
+'Do you know Solomon the coal-miner?' asked Ermine, in her correct,
+well-learned German.
+
+'Sol Bangs? Yes, I know him,' replied Fritz in his Wuertemburg dialect.
+
+'What kind of a man is he?'
+
+'Good for nothing,' replied Fritz, placidly.
+
+'Why?'
+
+'Wrong here'; tapping his forehead.
+
+'Do you know his wife?' I asked.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'What kind of a woman is she?'
+
+'Too much tongue. Women must not talk much.'
+
+'Old Fritz touched us both there,' I said, as we ran back laughing to
+the hotel through the blustering wind. 'In his opinion, I suppose, we
+have the popular verdict of the township upon our two _proteges_, the
+sulphur-woman and her husband.'
+
+The next day opened calm, hazy, and warm, the perfection of Indian
+summer; the breezy hill was outlined in purple, and the trees glowed in
+rich colors. In the afternoon we started for the sulphur-spring without
+shawls or wraps, for the heat was almost oppressive; we loitered on the
+way through the still woods, gathering the tinted leaves, and wondering
+why no poet has yet arisen to celebrate in fit words the glories of the
+American autumn. At last we reached the turn whence the lonely house
+came into view, and at the bars we saw the dog awaiting us.
+
+'Evidently the sulphur-woman does not like that melancholy animal,' I
+said, as we applied our united strength to the gate.
+
+'Did you ever know a woman of limited mind who liked a large dog?'
+replied Ermine. 'Occasionally such a woman will fancy a small cur; but
+to appreciate a large, noble dog requires a large, noble mind.'
+
+'Nonsense with your dogs and minds,' I said, laughing, 'Wonderful! There
+is a curtain.'
+
+It was true. The paper had been removed from one of the windows, and in
+its place hung some white drapery, probably part of a sheet rigged as a
+curtain.
+
+Before we reached the piazza the door opened, and our hostess appeared.
+'Glad to see yer, ladies,' she said. 'Walk right in this way to the
+keeping room.'
+
+The dog went away to his block-house, and we followed the woman into a
+room on the right of the hall; there were three rooms, beside the attic
+above. An Old-World German stove of brick-work occupied a large portion
+of the space, and over it hung a few tins, and a clock whose pendulum
+swung outside; a table, a settle, and some stools completed the
+furniture; but on the plastered walls were two rude brackets, one
+holding a cup and saucer of figured china, and the other surmounted by a
+large bunch of autumn leaves, so beautiful in themselves and so
+exquisitely arranged that we crossed the room to admire them.
+
+'Sol fixed 'em, he did,' said the sulphur-woman; 'he seen me setting
+things to rights, and he would do it. I told him they was trash, but he
+made me promise to leave 'em alone in case you should call again.'
+
+'Madam Bangs, they would adorn a palace,' said Ermine, severely.
+
+'The cup is pretty too,' I observed, seeing the woman's eyes turn that
+way.
+
+'It's the last of my chany' she answered, with pathos in her
+voice,--'the very last piece.'
+
+As we took our places on the settle we noticed the brave attire of our
+hostess. The delaine was there; but how altered! Flounces it had,
+skimped, but still flounces, and at the top was a collar of crochet
+cotton reaching nearly to the shoulders; the hair, too, was braided in
+imitation of Ermine's sunny coronet, and the Roman scarf did duty as a
+belt around the large flat waist.
+
+'You see she tries to improve,' I whispered, as Mrs. Bangs went into the
+hall to get some sulphur-water for us.
+
+'Vanity,' answered Ermine.
+
+We drank our dose slowly, and our hostess talked on and on. Even I, her
+champion, began to weary of her complainings. 'How dark it is!' said
+Ermine at last, rising and drawing aside the curtain. 'See, Dora, a
+storm is close upon us.'
+
+We hurried to the door, but one look at the black cloud was enough to
+convince us that we could not reach the Community hotel before it would
+break, and somewhat drearily we returned to the keeping-room, which grew
+darker and darker, until our hostess was obliged to light a candle.
+'Reckon you'll have to stay all night; I'd like to have you ladies,' she
+said. 'The Community ain't got nothing covered to send after you, except
+the old king's coach, and I misdoubt they won't let that out in such a
+storm, steps and all. When it begins to rain in this valley, it do rain,
+I can tell you; and from the way it's begun, 't won't stop 'fore
+morning. You just let me send the Roarer over to the mine, he'll tell
+Sol; Sol can tell the Community folks, so they'll know where you be.'
+
+I looked somewhat aghast at this proposal, but Ermine listened to the
+rain upon the roof a moment, and then quietly accepted; she remembered
+the long hills of tenacious red clay and her kid boots were dear to her.
+
+'The Roarer, I presume, is some faithful kobold who bears your message
+to and from the mine,' she said, making herself as comfortable as the
+wooden settle would allow.
+
+The sulphur-woman stared. 'Roarer's Sol's old dog,' she answered,
+opening the door; perhaps one of you will write a bit of a note for him
+to carry in his basket,--Roarer, Roarer!'
+
+The melancholy dog came slowly in, and stood still while she tied a
+small covered basket around his neck.
+
+Ermine took a leaf from her tablets and wrote a line or two with the
+gold pencil attached to her watch-chain.
+
+'Well now, you do have everything handy, I do declare,' said the woman,
+admiringly.
+
+I glanced at the paper.
+
+     'MR. SOLOMON BANGS: My cousin Theodora Wentworth and myself have
+     accepted the hospitality of your house for the night. Will you be
+     so good as to send tidings of our safety to the Community, and
+     oblige,
+
+     ERMINIA STUART.'
+
+The Roarer started obediently out into the rain-storm with his little
+basket; he did not run, but walked slowly, as if the storm was nothing
+compared to his settled melancholy.
+
+'What a note to send to a coal-miner!' I said, during a momentary
+absence of our hostess.
+
+'Never fear; it will be appreciated,' replied Ermine.
+
+'What is this king's carriage of which you spoke?' I asked, during the
+next hour's conversation.
+
+'O, when they first come over from Germany, they had a sort of a king;
+he knew more than the rest, and he lived in that big brick house with
+dormel-winders and a cuperler, that stands next the garden. The carriage
+was hisn, and it had steps to let down, and curtains and all; they
+don't use it much now he's dead. They're a queer set anyhow! The women
+look like meal-sacks. After Sol seen me, he couldn't abide to look at
+'em.'
+
+Soon after six we heard the great gate creak.
+
+'That's Sol,' said the woman,' and now of course Roarer'll come in and
+track all over my floor.' The hall door opened and a shadow passed into
+the opposite room, two shadows,--a man and a dog.
+
+'He's going to wash himself now,' continued the wife; 'he's always
+washing himself, just like a horse.'
+
+'New fact in natural history, Dora love,' observed Ermine.
+
+After some moments the miner appeared,--a tall, stooping figure with
+high forehead, large blue eyes, and long thin yellow hair; there was a
+singularly lifeless expression in his face, and a far-off look in his
+eyes. He gazed about the room in an absent way, as though he scarcely
+saw us. Behind him stalked the Roarer, wagging his tail slowly from side
+to side.
+
+'Now, then, dont yer see the ladies, Sol? Where's yer manners?' said his
+wife, sharply.
+
+'Ah,--yes,--good evening,' he said, vaguely. Then his wandering eyes
+fell upon Ermine's beautiful face, and fixed themselves there with
+strange intentness.
+
+'You received my note, Mr. Bangs?' said my cousin in her soft voice.
+
+'Yes, surely. You are Erminia,' replied the man, still standing in the
+centre of the room with fixed eyes. The Roarer laid himself down behind
+his master, and his tail still wagging, sounded upon the floor with a
+regular tap.
+
+'Now then, Sol, since you've come home, perhaps you'll entertain the
+ladies while I get supper,' quoth Mrs. Bangs; and forthwith began a
+clatter of pans.
+
+The man passed his long hand abstractedly over his forehead. 'Eh,' he
+said with long-drawn utterance,--'eh-h? Yes, my rose of Sharon,
+certainly, certainly.'
+
+'Then why don't you do it!' said the woman, lighting the fire in the
+brick stove.
+
+'And what will the ladies please to do?' he answered, his eyes going
+back to Ermine.
+
+'We will look over your pictures, sir,' said my cousin, rising; 'they
+are in the upper room, I believe.'
+
+A great flush rose in the painter's thin cheeks. 'Will you,' he said
+eagerly,--'will you? Come!'
+
+'It's a broken-down old hole, ladies; Sol will never let me sweep it
+out. Reckon you'll be more comfortable here,' said Mrs. Bangs, with her
+arms in the flour.
+
+'No, no, my lily of the valley. The ladies will come with me; they will
+not scorn the poor room.'
+
+'A studio is always interesting,' said Ermine, sweeping up the rough
+stairs behind Solomon's candle. The dog followed us, and laid himself
+down on an old mat, as though well accustomed to the place. 'Eh-h, boy,
+you came bravely through the storm with the lady's note.' said his
+master, beginning to light candle after candle. 'See him laugh!'
+
+'Can a dog laugh?'
+
+'Certainly; look at him now. What is that but a grin of happy
+contentment? Don't the Bible say, "grin like a dog"?'
+
+'You seem much attached to the Roarer.'
+
+'Tuscarora, lady, Tuscarora. Yes, I love him well. He has been with me
+through all, he has watched the making of all my pictures; he always
+lies there when I paint.'
+
+By this time a dozen candles were burning on shelves and brackets, and
+we could see all parts of the attic studio. It was but a poor place,
+unfloored in the corners where the roof slanted down, and having no
+ceiling but the dark beams and thatch; hung upon the walls were the
+pictures we had seen, and many others, all crude and high colored, and
+all representing the same face,--the sulphur-woman in her youth, the
+poor artist's only ideal. He showed us these one by one, handling them
+tenderly, and telling us, in his quaint language, all they symbolized.
+'This is Ruth, and denoteth the power of hope,' he said. 'Behold Judith,
+the queen of revenge. And this dear one is Rachel, for whom Jacob served
+seven years, and they seemed unto him but a day, so well he loved her.'
+The light shone on his pale face, and we noticed the far-off look in his
+eyes, and the long, tapering fingers coming out from the hard-worked
+broad palm. To me it was a melancholy scene, the poor artist with his
+daubs and the dreary attic.
+
+But Ermine seemed eagerly interested; she looked at the staring
+pictures, listened to the explanations, and at last she said gently,
+'Let me show you something of perspective, and the part that shadows
+play in a pictured face. Have you any crayons?'
+
+No; the man had only his coarse paints and lumps of charcoal; taking a
+piece of the coal in her delicate hand, my cousin began to work upon a
+sheet of drawing-paper attached to the rough easel. Solomon watched her
+intently, as she explained and demonstrated some of the rules of
+drawing, the lights and shades, and the manner of representing the
+different features and curves. All his pictures were full faces, flat
+and unshaded; Ermine showed him the power of the profile and the
+three-quarter view. I grew weary of watching them, and pressing my face
+against the little window gazed out into the night; steadily the rain
+came down and the hills shut us in like a well. I thought of our home in
+C----, and its bright lights, warmth, company, and life. Why should we
+come masquerading out among the Ohio hills at this late season? And then
+I remembered that it was because Ermine would come; she liked such
+expeditions, and from childhood I had always followed her lead. '_Dux
+nascitur_, etc., etc.' Turning away from the gloomy night, I looked
+towards the easel again; Solomon's cheeks were deeply flushed, and his
+eyes shone like stars. The lesson went on, the merely mechanical hand
+explaining its art to the ignorant fingers of genius. Ermine had taken
+lessons all her life, but she had never produced an original picture,
+only copies.
+
+At last the lesson was interrupted by a voice from below, 'Sol, Sol,
+supper's ready!' No one stirred until, feeling some sympathy for the
+amount of work which my ears told me had been going on below, I woke up
+the two enthusiasts and took them away from the easel down stairs into
+the keeping-room, where a loaded table and a scarlet hostess bore
+witness to the truth of my surmise. Strange things we ate that night,
+dishes unheard of in towns, but not unpalatable. Ermine had the one
+china cup for her corn-coffee; her grand air always secured her such
+favors. Tuscarora was there and ate of the best, now and then laying his
+shaggy head on the table, and, as his master said, 'smiling at us';
+evidently the evening was his gala time. It was nearly nine when the
+feast was ended, and I immediately proposed retiring to bed, for, having
+but little art enthusiasm, I dreaded a vigil in that dreary attic.
+Solomon looked disappointed, but I ruthlessly carried off Ermine to the
+opposite room, which we afterwards suspected was the apartment of our
+hosts, freshened and set in order in our honor. The sound of the rain on
+the piazza roof lulled us soon to sleep, in spite of the strange
+surroundings; but more than once I woke and wondered where I was,
+suddenly remembering the lonely house in its lonely valley with a shiver
+of discomfort. The next morning we woke at our usual hour, but some time
+after the miner's departure; breakfast was awaiting us in the
+keeping-room, and our hostess said that an ox-team from the Community
+would come for us before nine. She seemed sorry to part with us, and
+refused any remuneration for our stay; but none the less did we promise
+ourselves to send some dresses and even ornaments from C----, to feed
+that poor, starving love of finery. As we rode away in the ox-cart, the
+Roarer looked wistfully after us through the bars; but his melancholy
+mood was upon him again, and he had not the heart even to wag his tail.
+
+As we were sitting in the hotel parlor, in front of our soft-coal fire
+in the evening of the following day, and discussing whether or no we
+should return to the city within the week, the old landlord entered
+without his broad-brimmed hat,--an unusual attention, since he was a
+trustee and a man of note in the Community, and removed his hat for no
+one or nothing; we even suspected that he slept in it.
+
+'You know Zolomon Barngs,' he said, slowly.
+
+'Yes,' we answered.
+
+'Well, he's dead. Kilt in de mine.' And putting on the hat, removed, we
+now saw, in respect for death, he left the room suddenly as he had
+entered it. As it happened, we had been discussing the couple, I, as
+usual, contending for the wife, and Ermine, as usual, advocating the
+cause of the husband.
+
+'Let us go out there immediately to see her, poor woman!' I said,
+rising.
+
+'Yes, poor man, we will go to him!' said Ermine.
+
+'But the man is dead, cousin.'
+
+'Then he shall at least have one kind friendly glance before he is
+carried to his grave,' answered Ermine quietly.
+
+In a short time we set out in the darkness, and dearly did we have to
+pay for the night-ride; no one could understand the motive of our going,
+but money was money, and we could pay for all peculiarities. It was a
+dark night, and the ride seemed endless as the oxen moved slowly on
+through the red-clay mire. At last we reached the turn and saw the
+little lonely house with its upper room brightly lighted.
+
+'He is in the studio,' said Ermine; and so it proved. He was not dead,
+but dying; not maimed but poisoned by the gas of the mine, and rescued
+too late for recovery. They had placed him upon the floor on a couch of
+blankets and the dull-eyed Community doctor stood at his side. 'No good,
+no good,' he said; 'he must die.' And then, hearing of the returning
+cart, he left us, and we could hear the tramp of the oxen over the
+little bridge, on their way back to the village.
+
+The dying man's head lay upon his wife's breast, and her arms supported
+him; she did not speak, but gazed at us with a dumb agony in her large
+eyes. Ermine knelt down and took the lifeless hand streaked with
+coal-dust in both her own. 'Solomon,' she said, in her soft, clear
+voice, 'do you know me?'
+
+The closed eyes opened slowly, and fixed themselves upon her face a
+moment: then they turned towards the window, as if seeking something.
+
+'It's the picter he means,' said the wife. 'He sat up most all last
+night a doing it.'
+
+I lighted all the candles, and Ermine brought forward the easel; upon it
+stood a sketch in charcoal wonderful to behold,--the same face, the face
+of the faded wife, but so noble in its idealized beauty that it might
+have been a portrait of her glorified face in Paradise. It was a
+profile, with the eyes upturned,--a mere outline, but grand in
+conception and expression. I gazed in silent astonishment.
+
+Ermine said, 'Yes, I knew you could do it, Solomon. It is perfect of its
+kind.' The shadow of a smile stole over the pallid face, and then the
+husband's fading gaze turned upward to meet the wild, dark eyes of the
+wife.
+
+'It's you, Dorcas,' he murmured; 'that's how you looked to me, but I
+never could get it right before.' She bent over him, and silently we
+watched the coming of the shadow of death; he spoke only once, 'My rose
+of Sharon--' And then in a moment he was gone, the poor artist was dead.
+
+Wild, wild was the grief of the ungoverned heart left behind; she was
+like a mad-woman, and our united strength was needed to keep her from
+injuring herself in her frenzy. I was frightened, but Ermine's strong
+little hands and lithe arms kept her down until, exhausted, she lay
+motionless near her dead husband. Then we carried her down stairs and I
+watched by the bedside, while my cousin went back to the studio. She was
+absent some time, and then she came back to keep the vigil with me
+through the long, still night. At dawn the woman woke, and her face
+looked aged in the gray light. She was quiet, and took without a word
+the food we had prepared awkwardly enough, in the keeping-room.
+
+'I must go to him, I must go to him.' she murmured, as we led her back.
+
+'Yes,' said Ermine, 'but first let me make you tidy. He loved to see you
+neat.' And with deft, gentle touch she dressed the poor creature,
+arranging the heavy hair so artistically that, for the first time, I saw
+what she might have been, and understood the husband's dream.
+
+'What is that?' I said, as a peculiar sound startled us.
+
+'It's Roarer. He was tied up last night, but I suppose he's gnawed the
+rope,' said the woman. I opened the hall door, and in stalked the great
+dog, smelling his way directly up the stairs.
+
+'O, he must not go!' I exclaimed.
+
+'Yes, let him go, he loved his master,' said Ermine; 'we will go too.'
+So silently we all went up into the chamber of death.
+
+The pictures had been taken down from the walls, but the wonderful
+sketch remained on the easel, which had been moved to the head of the
+couch where Solomon lay. His long, light hair was smooth, his face
+peacefully quiet, and on his breast lay the beautiful bunch of autumn
+leaves which he had arranged in our honor. It was a striking
+picture,--the noble face of the sketch above, and the dead face of the
+artist below. It brought to my mind a design I had once seen, where Fame
+with her laurels came at last to the door of the poor artist and gently
+knocked; but he had died the night before!
+
+The dog lay at his master's feet, nor stirred until Solomon was carried
+out to his grave.
+
+The Community buried the miner in one corner of the lonely little
+meadow. No service had they and no mound was raised to mark the spot,
+for such was their custom; but in the early spring we went down again
+into the valley, and placed a block of granite over the grave. It bore
+the inscription:--
+
+              SOLOMON.
+
+    He will finish his work in heaven.
+
+Strange as it may seem, the wife pined for her artist husband. We found
+her in the Community trying to work, but so aged and bent that we hardly
+knew her. Her large eyes had lost their peevish discontent, and a great
+sadness had taken the place.
+
+'Seems like I couldn't get on without Sol,' she said, sitting with us in
+the hotel parlor after work-hours. 'I kinder miss his voice and all them
+names he used to call me; he got 'em out of the Bible, so they must have
+been good, you know. He always thought everything I did was right, and
+he thought no end of my good looks, too; I suppose I've lost 'em all
+now. He was mighty fond of me; nobody in all the world cares a straw for
+me now. Even Roarer wouldn't stay with me, for all I petted him; he kep'
+a going out to that meader and a lying by Sol, until, one day, we found
+him there dead. He just died of sheer loneliness, I reckon. I sha'n't
+have to stop long I know, because I keep a dreaming of Sol, and he
+always looks at me like he did when I first knew him. He was a beautiful
+boy when I first saw him on that load of wood coming into Sandy. Well,
+ladies, I must go. Thank you kindly for all you've done for me. And say,
+Miss Stuart, when I die you shall have that coal pictur; no one else 'ud
+vally it so much.'
+
+Three months after, while we were at the sea-shore, Ermine received a
+long tin case, directed in a peculiar handwriting; it had been forwarded
+from C----, and contained the sketch and a note from the Community.
+
+     'E. STUART: The woman Dorcas Bangs died this day. She will be put
+     away by the side of her husband, Solomon Bangs. She left the
+     enclosed picture, which we hereby send, and which please
+     acknowledge by return of mail.
+
+     'JACOB BOLL, _Trustee_.'
+
+
+
+I unfolded the wrappings and looked at the sketch; 'It is indeed
+striking,' I said. 'She must have been beautiful once, poor woman!'
+
+'Let us hope that at least she is beautiful now, for her husband's sake
+poor man!' replied Ermine.
+
+Even then we could not give up our preferences.
+
+
+
+
+WILHELMINA.
+
+
+'And so, Mina, you will not marry the baker?'
+
+'No: I waits for Gustav.'
+
+'How long is it since you have seen him?'
+
+'Three year; it was a three-year regi-ment.'
+
+'Then he will soon be home?'
+
+'I not know' answered the girl, with a wistful look in her dark eyes, as
+if asking information from the superior being who sat in the skiff,--a
+being from the outside world where newspapers, the modern Tree of
+Knowledge, were not forbidden.
+
+'Perhaps he will re-enlist, and stay three years longer,' I said.
+
+'Ah, lady,--six year! It breaks the heart,' answered Wilhelmina.
+
+She was the gardener's daughter, a member of the Community of German
+Separatists who live secluded in one of Ohio's rich valleys, separated
+by their own broad acres and orchard-covered hills from the busy world
+outside; down the valley flows the tranquil Tuscarawas on its way to the
+Muskingum, its slow tide rolling through the fertile bottom-lands
+between stone dikes, and utilized to the utmost extent of carefulness by
+the thrifty brothers, now working a saw-mill on the bank, now sending a
+tributary to the flour-mill across the canal, and now branching off in a
+sparkling race across the valley to turn wheels for two or three
+factories, watering the great grass meadow on the way. We were floating
+on this river in a skiff named by myself Der Fliegende Hollaender, much
+to the slow wonder of the Zoarites, who did not understand how a
+Dutchman could, nor why he should, fly. Wilhelmina sat before me, her
+oars trailing in the water. She showed a Nubian head above her white
+kerchief: large-lidded soft brown eyes, heavy braids of dark hair,
+creamy skin with, purple tints in the lips and brown shadows under the
+eyes, and a far off expression which even the steady monotonous toil of
+Community life had not been able to efface. She wore the blue dress and
+white kerchief of the society, the quaint little calico bonnet lying
+beside her; she was a small maiden; her slender form swayed in the
+stiff, short-waisted gown, her feet slipped about in the broad shoes,
+and her hands, roughened and browned with garden-work, were yet narrow
+and graceful. From the first we felt sure she was grafted, and not a
+shoot from the Community stalk. But we could learn nothing of her
+origin; the Zoarites are not communicative; they fill each day with
+twelve good hours of labor, and look neither forward nor back. 'She is a
+daughter,' said the old gardener in answer to our questions. 'Adopted?'
+I suggested; but he vouchsafed no answer. I liked the little daughter's
+dreamy face, but she was pale and undeveloped, like a Southern flower
+growing in Northern soil; the rosy-cheeked, flaxen-haired Rosines,
+Salomes, and Dorotys, with their broad shoulders and ponderous tread,
+thought this brown changeling ugly, and pitied her in their slow,
+good-natured way.
+
+'It breaks the heart,' said Wilhelmina again, softly, as if to herself.
+
+I repented me of my thoughtlessness. 'In any case he can come back for a
+few days,' I hastened to say. 'What regiment was it?'
+
+'The One Hundred and Seventh, lady.'
+
+I had a Cleveland paper in my basket, and taking it out I glanced over
+the war-news column, carelessly, as one who does not expect to find what
+he seeks. But chance was with us and gave this item: 'The One Hundred
+and Seventh Regiment, O. V. I., is expected home next week. The men will
+be paid off at Camp Chase.'
+
+'Ah!' said Wilhelmina, catching her breath with a half-sob under her
+tightly drawn kerchief--'ah, mein Gustav!'
+
+'Yes, you will soon see him,' I answered, bending forward to take the
+rough little hand in mine; for I was a romantic wife, and my heart went
+out to all lovers. But the girl did not notice my words or my touch;
+silently she sat, absorbed in her own emotion, her eyes fixed on the
+hilltops far away, as though she saw the regiment marching home through
+the blue June sky.
+
+I took the oars and rowed up as far as the inland, letting the skiff
+float back with the current. Other boats were out, filled with
+fresh-faced boys in their high-crowned hats, long-waisted, wide-flapped
+vests of calico, and funny little swallow-tailed coats with buttons up
+under the shoulder-blades; they appeared unaccountably long in front,
+and short behind, these young Zoar brethren. On the vine-covered dike
+were groups of mothers and grave little children, and up in the
+hill-orchards were moving figures, young and old; the whole village was
+abroad in the lovely afternoon, according to their Sunday custom, which
+gave the morning to chorals and a long sermon in the little church, and
+the afternoon to nature, even old Christian, the pastor, taking his
+imposing white fur hat and tasselled cane for a walk through the
+Community fields, with the remark, 'Thus is cheered the heart of man,
+and his countenance refreshed.'
+
+As the sun sank in the, warm western sky, homeward came the villagers
+from the river, the orchards, and the meadows, men, women and children,
+a hardy, simple-minded band, whose fathers, for religion's sake, had
+taken the long journey from Wuertemburg across the ocean to this distant
+valley, and made it a garden of rest in the wilderness. We, too, landed,
+and walked up the apple-tree lane towards the hotel.
+
+'The cows come,' said Wilhelmina as we heard a distant, tinkling; 'I
+must go.' But still she lingered. 'Der regi-ment, it come soon, you
+say?' she asked in a low voice, as though she wanted to hear the good
+news again and again.
+
+'They will be paid off next week; they cannot be later than ten days
+from now.'
+
+'Ten day? Ah, mein Gustav,' murmured the little maiden; she turned away
+and tied on her stiff bonnet, furtively wiping off a tear with her prim
+handkerchief folded in a square.
+
+'Why, my child,' I said, following her and stooping to look in her face,
+'what is this?'
+
+'It is nothing; it is for glad,--for very glad,' said Wilhelmina. Away
+she ran as the first solemn cow came into view, heading the long
+procession meandering slowly towards the stalls. They knew nothing of
+haste, these dignified Community cows; from stall to pasture, from
+pasture to stall, in a plethora of comfort, this was their life. The
+silver-haired shepherd came last with his staff and scrip, and the
+nervous shepherd-dog ran hither and thither in the hope of finding some
+cow to bark at, but the comfortable cows moved on in orderly ranks, and
+he was obliged to dart off on a tangent every now and then, and bark at
+nothing, to relieve his feelings. Reaching the paved court-yard each cow
+walked into her own stall, and the milking began. All the girls took
+part in this work, sitting on little stools and singing together as the
+milk frothed up in the tin pails; the pails were emptied into tubs, and
+when the tubs were full the girls bore them on their heads to the dairy,
+where the milk was poured into a huge strainer, a constant procession of
+girls with tubs above and the old milk-mother ladling out as fast as she
+could below. With the beehives near by, it was a realization of the
+Scriptural phrase, 'A land flowing with milk and honey.'
+
+The next morning, after breakfast, I strolled up the still street,
+leaving the Wirthshaus with its pointed roof behind me. On the right
+were some ancient cottages built of crossed timbers filled in with
+plaster; sundials hung on the walls, and each house had its piazza,
+where, when the work of the day was over, the families assembled, often
+singing folk-songs to the music of their home-made flutes and pipes. On
+the left stood the residence of the first pastor, the reverend man who
+had led these sheep to their refuge in the wilds of the New World. It
+was a wide-spreading brick mansion, with a broadside of white-curtained
+windows, an enclosed glass porch, iron railings, and gilded eaves; a
+building so stately among the surrounding cottages, it had gained from
+outsiders the name of the King's Palace, although the good man whose
+grave remains unmarked in the quiet God's Acre, according to the
+Separatist custom, was a father to his people, not a king.
+
+Beyond the palace began the Community garden, a large square in the
+centre of the village filled with flowers and fruit adorned with arbors
+and cedar-trees clipped in the form of birds, and enriched with an
+old-style greenhouse whose sliding glasses were viewed with admiration
+by the visitors of thirty years ago, who sent their choice plants
+thither from far and near to be tended through the long, cold
+lake-country winters. The garden, the cedars, and the greenhouse were
+all antiquated, but to me none the less charming. The spring that gushed
+up in one corner, the old-fashioned flowers in their box-bordered beds,
+larkspur, lady slippers, bachelor's buttons, peonies, aromatic pinks,
+and all varieties of roses, the arbors with red honeysuckle overhead and
+tan bark under foot, were all delightful; and I knew, also, that I
+should find the gardener's daughter at her never-ending task of weeding.
+This time it was the strawberry bed. 'I have come to sit in your
+pleasant garden, Mina,' I said, taking a seat on a shaded bench near the
+bending figure.
+
+'So?' said Wilhelmina in long-drawn interrogation, glancing up shyly
+with a smile. She was a child of the sun, this little maiden, and while
+her blond companions wore always their bonnets or broad-brimmed hats
+over their precise caps, Wilhelmina, as now, constantly discarded these
+coverings and sat in the sun basking like a bird of the tropics. In
+truth, it did not redden her; she was one of those whose coloring comes
+not from without, but within.
+
+'Do you like this work, Mina?'
+
+'O--so. Good as any.'
+
+'Do you like work?'
+
+'Folks must work.' This was, said gravely, as part of the Community
+creed.
+
+'Wouldn't you like to go with me to the city?'
+
+'No; I's better here.'
+
+'But you can see the great world, Mina. You need not work, I will take
+care of you. You shall have pretty dresses; wouldn't you like that?' I
+asked, curious to discover the secret of the Separatist indifference to
+everything outside.
+
+'Nein,' answered the little maiden, tranquilly; 'nein, fraeulein. Ich bin
+zufrieden.'
+
+Those three words were the key. 'I am contented.' So were they taught
+from childhood, and--I was about to say--they knew no better; but, after
+all, is there anything better to know?
+
+We talked on, for Mina understood English, although many of her mates
+could chatter only in their Wuertemberg dialect, whose provincialisms
+confused my carefully learned German; I was grounded in Goethe, well
+read in Schiller, and struggling with Jean Paul, who, fortunately, is
+'der Einzige,' the only; another such would destroy life. At length a
+bell sounded, and forthwith work was laid aside in the fields, the
+workshops, and the houses, while all partook of a light repast, one of
+the five meals with which the long summer day of toil is broken. Flagons
+of beer had the men afield, with bread and cheese; the women took bread
+and apple-butter. But Mina did not care for the thick slice which the
+thrifty house-mother had provided; she had not the steady unfanciful
+appetite of the Community which eats the same food day after day, as the
+cow eats its grass, desiring no change.
+
+'And the gardener really wishes you to marry Jacob?' I said as she sat
+on the grass near me, enjoying the rest.
+
+'Yes, Jacob is good,--always the same.'
+
+'And Gustav?'
+
+'Ah, mein Gustav! Lady, _he_ is young, tall,--so tall as tree; he run,
+he sing, his eyes like veilchen there, his hair like gold. If I see him
+not soon, lady, I die! The year so long,--so long they are. Three year
+without Gustav!' The brown eyes grew dim, and out came the square-folded
+handkerchief, of colored calico for week-days.
+
+'But it will not be long now, Mina.'
+
+'Yes; I hope.'
+
+'He writes to you, I suppose?'
+
+'No. Gustav knows not to write, he not like school. But he speak through
+the other boys, Ernst the verliebte of Rosine, and Peter of Doroty.'
+
+'The Zoar soldiers were all young men?'
+
+'Yes; all verliebte. Some are not; they have gone to the Next Country'
+(died).
+
+'Killed in Battle?'
+
+'Yes; on the berge that looks,--what you call I not know.'
+
+'Lookout Mountain?'
+
+'Yes'
+
+'Were the boys volunteers?' I asked, remembering the Community theory of
+non-resistance.
+
+'O yes; they volunteer, Gustav the first. _They_ not drafted,' said
+Wilhelmina, proudly. For these two words so prominent during the war,
+had penetrated even into this quiet little valley.
+
+'But did the trustees approve?'
+
+'Apperouve?'
+
+'I mean did they like it?'
+
+'Ah! they like it not. They talk, they preach in church, they say 'No.'
+Zoar must give soldiers? So. Then they take money and pay for der
+substitute; but the boys they must not go.'
+
+'But they went in spite of the trustees?'
+
+'Yes; Gustav first. They go in night, they walk in woods, over the hills
+to Brownville, where is der recruiter. The morning come, they gone!'
+
+'They have been away three years, you say? They have seen the world in
+that time,' I remarked half to myself, as I thought of the strange
+mind-opening and knowledge-gaining of those years to youths brought up
+in the strict seclusion of the Community.
+
+'Yes; Gustav have seen the wide world,' answered Wilhelmina with pride.
+
+'But will they be content to step back into the dull routine of Zoar
+life?' I thought; and a doubt came that made me scan more closely the
+face of the girl at my side. To me it was attractive because of its
+possibilities; I was always fancying some excitement that would bring
+the color to the cheeks and full lips, and light up the heavy-lidded
+eyes with soft brilliancy. But would this Gustav see these might-be
+beauties? And how far would the singularly ugly costume offend eyes
+grown accustomed to fanciful finery and gay colors?
+
+'You fully expect to marry Gustav?' I asked.
+
+'We are verlobt,' answered Mina, not without a little air of dignity.
+
+'Yes, I know. But that was long ago.'
+
+'Verlobt once, verlobt always,' said the little maiden, confidently.
+
+'But why, then, does the gardener speak of Jacob, if you are engaged to
+this Gustav?'
+
+'O, fader he like the old, and Jacob is old, thirty year! His wife is
+gone to the Next Country. Jacob is a brother, too; he write his name in
+the book. But Gustav he not do so; he is free.'
+
+'You mean that the baker has signed the articles, and is a member of the
+Community?'
+
+'Yes; but the baker is old, very old; thirty year! Gustav not twenty and
+three yet; he come home, then he sign.'
+
+'And have you signed these articles, Wilhelmina?'
+
+'Yes; all the womens signs.'
+
+'What does the paper say?'
+
+'Da ich Unterzeichneter,'--began the girl.
+
+'I cannot understand that. Tell me in English.'
+
+'Well; you wants to join the Zoar Community of Separatists; you writes
+your name and says, "Give me house, victual, and clothes for my work and
+I join; and I never fernerer Forderung an besagte Gesellschaft machen
+kann, oder will."'
+
+'Will never make further demand upon said society,' I repeated,
+translating slowly.
+
+'Yes; that is it.'
+
+'But who takes charge of all the money?'
+
+'The trustees.'
+
+'Don't they give you any?'
+
+'No; for what? It's no good,' answered Wilhelmina.
+
+I knew that all the necessaries of life were dealt out to the members of
+the Community according to their need, and, as they never went outside
+of their valley, they could scarcely have spent money even if they had
+possessed it. But, nevertheless, it was startling in this nineteenth
+century to come upon a sincere belief in the worthlessness of the
+green-tinted paper we cherish so fondly. 'Gustav will have learned its
+value,' I thought, as Mina, having finished the strawberry-bed, started
+away towards the dairy to assist in the butter-making.
+
+I strolled on up the little hill, past the picturesque bakery, where
+through the open window I caught a glimpse of the 'old, very old Jacob,'
+a serious young man of thirty, drawing out his large loaves of bread
+from the brick oven with a long-handled rake. It was gingerbread-day
+also, and a spicy odor met me at the window; so I put in my head and
+asked for a piece, receiving a card about a foot square, laid on fresh
+grape-leaves.
+
+'But I cannot eat all this,' I said, breaking off a corner.
+
+'O, dat's noding!' answered Jacob, beginning to knead fresh dough in a
+long white trough, the village supply for the next day.
+
+'I have been sitting with Wilhelmina,' I remarked, as I leaned on the
+casement, impelled by a desire to see the effect of the name.
+
+'So?' said Jacob, interrogatively.
+
+'Yes; she is a sweet girl.'
+
+'So?' (doubtfully.)
+
+'Dont you think so, Jacob?'
+
+'Ye-es. So-so. A leetle black,' answered this impassive lover.
+
+'But you wish to marry her?'
+
+'O, ye-es. She young and strong; her fader say she good to work. I have
+children five; I must have some one in the house.'
+
+'O Jacob! Is that the way to talk?' I exclaimed.
+
+'Warum nicht?' replied the baker, pausing in his kneading, and regarding
+me with wide-open, candid eyes.
+
+'Why not, indeed?' I thought, as I turned away from the window. 'He is
+at least honest, and no doubt in his way he would be a kind husband to
+little Mina. But what a way.'
+
+I walked on up the street, passing the pleasant house where all the
+infirm old women of the Community were lodged together, carefully tended
+by appointed nurses. The aged sisters were out on the piazza sunning
+themselves, like so many old cats. They were bent with hard, out-door
+labor for they belonged to the early days when the wild forest covered
+the fields now so rich, and only a few log-cabins stood on the site of
+the tidy cottages and gardens of the present village. Some of them had
+taken the long journey on foot from Philadelphia westward, four hundred
+and fifty miles, in the depths of winter. Well might they rest from
+their labors and sit in the sunshine, poor old souls!
+
+A few days later, my friendly newspaper mentioned the arrival of the
+German regiment at Camp Chase. 'They will probably be paid off in a day
+or two,' I thought, 'and another day may bring them here.' Eager to be
+the first to tell the good news to my little favorite, I hastened to the
+garden, and found her engaged, as usual, in weeding.
+
+'Mina,' I said, 'I have something to tell you. The regiment is at Camp
+Chase; you will see Gustav soon, perhaps this week.'
+
+And there, before my eyes, the transformation I had often fancied took
+place; the color rushed to the brown surface, the cheeks and lips glowed
+in vivid red, and the heavy eyes opened wide and shone like stars, with
+a brilliancy that astonished and even disturbed me. The statue had a
+soul at last; the beauty dormant had awakened. But for the fire of that
+soul would this expected Pygmalion suffice? Would the real prince fill
+his place in the long-cherished dreams of this beauty of the wood?
+
+The girl had risen as I spoke, and now she stood erect, trembling with
+excitement, her hands clasped on her breast, breathing quickly and
+heavily as though an overweight of joy was pressing down on her heart;
+her eyes were fixed upon my face, but she saw me not. Strange was her
+gaze, like the gaze of one walking in sleep. Her sloping shoulders
+seemed to expand and chafe against the stuff gown as though they would
+burst their bonds; the blood glowed in her face and throat, and her lips
+quivered, not as though tears were coming, but from the fulness of
+unuttered speech. Her emotion resembled the intensest fire of fever, and
+yet it seemed natural; like noon in the tropics when the gorgeous
+flowers flame in the white, shadowless heat. Thus stood Wilhelmina,
+looking up into the sky with eyes that challenged the sun.
+
+'Come here, child,' I said; 'come here and sit by me. We will talk about
+it.'
+
+But she neither saw nor heard me. I drew her down on the bench at my
+side; she yielded unconsciously; her slender form throbbed, and pulses
+were beating under my hands wherever I touched her. 'Mina!' I said
+again. But she did not answer. Like an unfolding rose, she revealed her
+hidden, beautiful heart, as though a spirit had breathed upon the bud;
+silenced in the presence of this great love, I ceased speaking, and left
+her to herself. After a time single words fell from her lips, broken
+utterances of happiness. I was as nothing; she was absorbed in the One.
+'Gustav! mein Gustav!' It was like the bird's note, oft repeated, ever
+the same. So isolated, so intense was her joy, that, as often happens,
+my mind took refuge in the opposite extreme of commonplace, and I found
+myself wondering whether she would be able to eat boiled beef and
+cabbage for dinner, or fill the soft-soap barrel for the laundry-women,
+later in the day.
+
+All the morning I sat under the trees with Wilhelmina, who had forgotten
+her life-long tasks as completely as though they had never existed. I
+hated to leave her to the leather-colored wife of the old gardener, and
+lingered until the sharp voice came from the distant house-door,
+calling, 'Veel-hel-meeny,' as the twelve-o'clock bell summoned the
+Community to dinner. But as Mina rose and swept back the heavy braid
+that had fallen from the little ivory stick which confined them, I saw
+that she was armed _cap-a-pie_ in that full happiness from which all
+weapons glance off harmless.
+
+All the rest of the day she was like a thing possessed. I followed her
+to the hill-pasture, whither she had gone to mind the cows, and found
+her coiled up on the grass in the blaze of the afternoon sun, like a
+little salamander. She was lost in day dreams, and the decorous cows had
+a holiday for once in their sober lives, wandering beyond bounds at
+will, and even tasting the dissipations of the marsh, standing unheeded
+in the bog up to their sleek knees. Wilhelmina had not many words to
+give me; her English vocabulary was limited; she had never read a line
+of romance nor a verse of poetry. The nearest approach to either was the
+Community hymn-book, containing the Separatist hymns, of which the
+following lines are a specimen,
+
+    "Ruhe ist das beste Gut
+     Dasz man haben kann,"--
+
+    "Rest is the best good
+     That man can have,"--
+
+and which embody the religious doctrine of the Zoar Brethren, although
+they think, apparently, that the labor of twelve hours each day is
+necessary to its enjoyment. The 'Ruhe,' however, refers more especially
+to their quiet seclusion away from the turmoil of the wicked world
+outside.
+
+The second morning after this it was evident that an unusual excitement
+was abroad in the phlegmatic village. All the daily duties were
+fulfilled as usual at the Wirthshaus: Pauline went up to the bakery with
+her board, and returned with her load of bread and bretzels balanced on
+her head; Jacobina served our coffee with slow precision; and the
+broad-shouldered, young-faced Lydia patted and puffed up our
+mountain-high feather-beds with due care. The men went afield at the
+blast of the horn, the workshops were full and the mills running. But,
+nevertheless, all was not the same; the air seemed full of mystery;
+there were whisperings when two met, furtive signals, and an inward
+excitement glowing in the faces of men, women, and children, hitherto
+placid as their own sheep. 'They have heard the news,' I said, after
+watching the tailor's Gretchen and the blacksmith's Barbara stop to
+exchange a whisper behind the wood-house. Later in the day we learned
+that several letters from the absent soldier-boys had been received that
+morning, announcing their arrival on the evening train. The news had
+flown from one end of the village to the other; and although the
+well-drilled hands were all at work, hearts were stirring with the
+greatest excitement of a lifetime, since there was hardly a house where
+there was not one expected. Each large house often held a number of
+families, stowed away in little sets of chambers, with one dining-room
+in common.
+
+Several times during the day we saw the three trustees conferring apart
+with anxious faces. The war had been a sore trouble to them, owing to
+their conscientious scruples against rendering military service. They
+had hoped to remain non-combatants. But the country was on fire with
+patriotism, and nothing less than a _bona fide_ Separatist in United
+States uniform would quiet the surrounding towns, long jealous of the
+wealth of this foreign community, misunderstanding its tenets, and
+glowing with that zeal against 'sympathizers' which kept star-spangled
+banners flying over every suspected house. 'Hang out the flag!' was
+their cry, and they demanded that Zoar should hang out its soldiers,
+giving them to understand that if not voluntarily hung out, they would
+soon be involuntarily hung up! A draft was ordered, and then the young
+men of the society, who had long chafed against their bonds, broke
+loose, volunteered, and marched away, principles or no principles,
+trustees or no trustees. These bold hearts once gone, the village sank
+into quietude again. Their letters, however, were a source of anxiety,
+coming as they did from the vain outside world; and the old postmaster,
+autocrat though he was, hardly dared to suppress them. But he said,
+shaking his head, that they 'had fallen upon troublous times,' and
+handed each dangerous envelope out with a groan. But the soldiers were
+not skilled penmen; their letters, few and far between, at length
+stopped entirely. Time passed, and the very existence of the runaways
+had become a far-off problem to the wise men of the Community, absorbed
+in their slow calculations and cautious agriculture, when now, suddenly,
+it forced itself upon them face to face, and they were required to solve
+it in the twinkling of an eye. The bold hearts were coming back, full of
+knowledge of the outside world, almost every house would hold one, and
+the bands of law and order would be broken. Before this prospect the
+trustees quailed. Twenty years before they would have forbidden the
+entrance of these unruly sons within their borders; but now they dared
+not, since even into Zoar had penetrated the knowledge that America was
+a free country. The younger generation were not as their fathers were;
+objections had been openly made to the cut of the Sunday coats, and the
+girls had spoken together of ribbons!
+
+The shadows of twilight seemed very long in falling that night, but at
+last there was no further excuse for delaying the evening bell, and home
+came the laborers to their evening meal. There was no moon, a soft mist
+obscured the stars, and the night was darkened with the excess of
+richness which rose from the ripening valley-fields and fat bottom-lands
+along the river. The Community store opposite the Wirthshaus was closed
+early in the evening, the houses of the trustees were dark, and indeed
+the village was almost unlighted, as if to hide its own excitement. The
+entire population was abroad in the night, and one by one the men and
+boys stole away down the station road, a lovely, winding track on the
+hillside, following the river on its way down the valley to the little
+station on the grass-grown railroad, a branch from the main track. As
+ten o'clock came, the women and girls, grown bold with excitement,
+gathered in the open space in front of the Wirthshaus, where the lights
+from the windows illumined their faces. There I saw the broad-shouldered
+Lydia, Rosine, Doroty, and all the rest, in their Sunday clothes,
+flushed, laughing, and chattering; but no Wilhelmina.
+
+'Where can she be?' I said.
+
+If she was there, the larger girls concealed her with their buxom
+breadth; I looked for the slender little maiden in vain.
+
+'Shu!' cried the girls, 'de bugle!'
+
+Far down the station road we heard the bugle and saw the glimmering of
+lights among the trees. On it came, a will-o' the-wisp procession, first
+a detachment of village boys each with a lantern or torch, next the
+returned soldiers winding their bugles,--for, German-like, they all had
+musical instruments,--then an excited crowd of brothers and cousins
+loaded with knapsacks, guns, and military accoutrements of all kinds;
+each man had something, were it only a tin cup, and proudly they
+marched in the footsteps of their glorious relatives, bearing the spoils
+of war. The girls set up a shrill cry of welcome as the procession
+approached, but the ranks continued unbroken until the open space in
+front of the Wirthshaus was reached; then, at a signal, the soldiers
+gave three cheers, the villagers joining in with all their hearts and
+lungs, but wildly and out of time, like the scattering fire of an
+awkward squad. The sound had never been heard in Zoar before. The
+soldiers gave a final 'Tiger-r-r!' and then broke ranks, mingling with
+the excited crowd, exchanging greetings and embraces. All talked at
+once; some wept, some laughed; and through it all silently stood the
+three trustees on the dark porch in front of the store, looking down
+upon their wild flock, their sober faces visible in the glare of the
+torches and lanterns below. The entire population was present; even the
+babies were held up on the outskirts of the crowd, stolid and staring.
+
+'Where can Wilhelmina be?' I said again.
+
+'Here, under the window; I saw her long ago,' replied one of the women.
+
+Leaning against a piazza-pillar, close under my eyes, stood the little
+maiden, pale and still. I could not disguise from myself that she looked
+almost ugly among those florid, laughing girls, for her color was gone,
+and her eyes so fixed that they looked unnaturally large; her somewhat
+heavy Egyptian features stood out in the bright light, but her small
+form was lost among the group of broad, white-kerchiefed shoulders,
+adorned with breast-knots of gay flowers. And had Wilhelmina no flower?
+She, so fond of blossoms? I looked again; yes, a little white rose,
+drooping and pale as herself.
+
+But where was Gustav? The soldiers came and went in the crowd, and all
+spoke to Mina; but where was the One? I caught the landlord's little son
+as he passed, and asked the question.
+
+'Gustav! Dat's him,' he answered, pointing out a tall, rollicking
+soldier who seemed to be embracing the whole population in his gleeful
+welcome. That very soldier had passed Mina a dozen times, flinging a gay
+greeting to her each time; but nothing more.
+
+After half an hour of general rejoicing, the crowd dispersed, each
+household bearing off in triumph the hero that fell to its lot. Then the
+tiled domiciles, where usually all were asleep an hour after twilight,
+blazed forth with unaccustomed light from every little window; within we
+could see the circles, with flagons of beer and various dainties
+manufactured in secret during the day, sitting and talking together in a
+manner which, for Zoar, was a wild revel, since it was nearly eleven
+o'clock! We were not the only outside spectators of this unwonted
+gayety; several times we met the trustees stealing along in the shadow
+from house to house, like anxious spectres in broad-brimmed hats. No
+doubt they said to each other, 'How, how will this end!'
+
+The merry Gustav had gone off by Mina's side, which gave me some
+comfort; but when in our rounds we came to the gardener's house and
+gazed through the open door, the little maiden sat apart, and the
+soldier, in the centre of an admiring circle, was telling stories of the
+war.
+
+I felt a foreboding of sorrow as I gazed out through the little window
+before climbing up into my high bed. Lights still twinkled in some of
+the houses, but a white mist was rising from the river, and the drowsy
+long-drawn chant of the summer night invited me to dreamless sleep.
+
+The next morning I could not resist questioning Jacobina, who also had
+her lover among the soldiers, if all was well.
+
+'O yes. They stay,--all but two. We's married next mont.'
+
+'And the two?'
+
+'Karl and Gustav.'
+
+'And Wilhelmina!' I exclaimed.
+
+'O she let him go,' answered Jacobina, bringing fresh coffee.
+
+'Poor child! How does she bear it?'
+
+'O so. She cannot help. She say noding.'
+
+'But the trustees, will they allow these young men to leave the
+Community?'
+
+'They cannot help,' said Jacobina. 'Gustav and Karl write not in the
+book; they free to go. Wilhelmina marry Jacob; it's joost the same; all
+r-r-ight,' added Jacobina, who prided herself upon her English, caught
+from visitors at the Wirthshaus table.
+
+'Ah! but it is not just the same,' I thought as I walked up to the
+garden to find my little maiden. She was not there; the leathery mother
+said she was out on the hills with the cows.
+
+'So Gustav is going to leave the Community,' I said in German.
+
+'Yes, better so. He is an idle, wild boy. Now Veelhelmeeny can marry the
+baker, a good steady man.'
+
+'But Mina does not like him,' I suggested.
+
+'Das macht nichts,' answered the leathery mother.
+
+Wilhelmina was not in the pasture; I sought for her everywhere, and
+called her name. The poor child had hidden herself, and whether she
+heard me or not she did not respond. All day she kept herself aloof; I
+almost feared she would never return; but in the late twilight a little
+figure slipped through the garden-gate and took refuge in the house
+before I could speak; for I was watching for the child, apparently the
+only one, though a stranger, to care for her sorrow.
+
+'Can I not see her?' I said to the leathery mother, following to the
+door.
+
+'Eh, no; she's foolish; she will not speak a word; she has gone off to
+bed,' was the answer.
+
+For three days I did not see Mina, so early did she flee away to the
+hills and so late return. I followed her to the pasture once or twice,
+but she would not show herself, and I could not discover her hiding
+place. The fourth day I learned that Gustav and Karl were to leave the
+village in the afternoon, probably forever. The other soldiers had
+signed the articles presented by the anxious trustees, and settled down
+into the old routine, going afield with the rest, although still heroes
+of the hour; they were all to be married in August. No doubt the
+hardships of their campaigns among the Tennessee mountains had taught
+them that the rich valley was a home not to be despised; nevertheless,
+it was evident that the flowers of the flock were those who were about
+departing, and that in Gustav and Karl the Community lost its brightest
+spirits. Evident to us; but possibly, the Community cared not for bright
+spirits.
+
+I had made several attempts to speak to Gustav; this morning I at last
+succeeded. I found him polishing his bugle on the garden bench.
+
+'Why are you going away, Gustav?' I asked. 'Zoar is a pleasant little
+village.'
+
+'Too slow for me, miss.'
+
+'The life is easy, however; you will find the world a hard place.'
+
+'I don't mind work, ma'am, but I do like to be free. I feel all cramped
+up here, with these rules and bells; and, besides, I couldn't stand
+those trustees; they never let a fellow alone.'
+
+'And Wilhelmina? If you do go, I hope you will take her with you or come
+for her when you have found work.'
+
+'Oh no, miss. All that was long ago. It's all over now.'
+
+'But you like her, Gustav.'
+
+'O so. She's a good little thing, but too quiet for me.'
+
+'But she likes you,' I said desperately, for I saw no other way to
+loosen this Gordian knot.
+
+'O no, miss. She got used to it, and has thought of it all these years;
+that's all. She'll forget about it and marry the baker.'
+
+'But she does not like the baker.'
+
+'Why not? He's a good fellow enough. She'll like him in time. It's all
+the same. I declare it's too bad to see all these girls going on in the
+same old way, in their ugly gowns and big shoes! Why, ma'am, I could'nt,
+take Mina outside, even if I wanted to; she's too old to learn new ways,
+and everybody would laugh at her. She could'nt get along a day.
+Besides,' said the young soldier, coloring up to his eyes, 'I don't mind
+telling you that--that there's some one else. Look here, ma'am.'
+
+And he put into my hand a card photograph representing a pretty girl,
+over dressed, and adorned with curls and gilt jewelery. 'That's Miss
+Martin,' said Gustav with pride; 'Miss Emmeline Martin, of Cincinnati.
+I'm going to marry Miss Martin.'
+
+As I held the pretty, flashy picture in my hand, all my castles fell to
+the ground. My plan for taking Mina home with me, accustoming her
+gradually to other clothes and ways, teaching her enough of the world to
+enable her to hold her place without pain, my hope that my husband might
+find a situation for Gustav in some of the iron-mills near Cleveland, in
+short, all the idyl I had woven, was destroyed. If it had not been for
+this red-cheeked Miss Martin in her gilt beads! 'Why is it that men will
+be such fools?' I thought. Up sprung a memory of the curls and ponderous
+jet necklace I sported at a certain period of my existence, when
+John--I was silenced, gave Gustav his picture, and walked away without a
+word.
+
+At noon the villagers, on their way back to work, paused at the
+Wirthshaus to say good bye; Karl and Gustav were there, and the old
+woolly horse had already gone to the station with their boxes. Among the
+others came Christine, Karl's former affianced, heartwhole and smiling,
+already betrothed to a new lover; but no Wilhelmina. Good wishes and
+farewells were exchanged, and at last the two soldiers started away,
+falling into the marching step and watched with furtive satisfaction by
+the three trustees, who stood together in the shadow of the smithy
+apparently deeply absorbed in a broken-down cask.
+
+It was a lovely afternoon, and I, too, strolled down the station road
+embowered in shade. The two soldiers were not far in advance. I had
+passed the flour-mill on the outskirts of the village and was
+approaching the old quarry, when a sound startled me; out of the rocks
+in front rushed a little figure and crying 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' fell
+at the soldier's feet. It was Wilhelmina.
+
+I ran forward and took her from the young men; she lay in my arms as if
+dead. The poor child was sadly changed; always slender and swaying, she
+now looked thin and shrunken, her skin had a strange, dark pallor, and
+her lips were drawn in as if from pain. I could see her eyes through the
+large-orbed thin lids, and the brown shadows beneath extended down into
+the cheeks.
+
+'Was ist's?' said Gustav, looking bewildered. 'Is she sick?'
+
+I answered 'Yes,' but nothing more. I could see that he had no suspicion
+of the truth, believing as he did that the 'good fellow' of a baker
+would do very well for this 'good little thing' who was 'too quiet' for
+him. The memory of Miss Martin sealed my lips. But if it had not been
+for that pretty, flashy picture, would I not have spoken!
+
+'You must go; you will miss the train,' I said after a few minutes. 'I
+will see to Mina.'
+
+But Gustav lingered. Perhaps he was really troubled to see the little
+sweetheart of his boyhood in such desolate plight; perhaps a touch of
+the old feeling came back; and perhaps also it was nothing of the kind,
+and, as usual, my romantic thoughts were carrying me away. At any rate,
+whatever it was, he stooped over the fainting girl.
+
+'She looks bad,' he said, 'very bad. I wish-- But she'll get well and
+marry the baker. Good bye, Mina.' And bending his tall form, he kissed
+her colorless cheek, and then hastened away to join the impatient Karl;
+a curve in the road soon hid them from view.
+
+Wilhelmina had stirred at his touch; after a moment her large eyes
+opened slowly; she looked around as if dazed, but all at once memory
+came back and she started up with the same cry, 'Gustav, mein Gustav!' I
+drew her head down on my shoulder to stifle the sound; it was better the
+soldier should not hear it, and its anguish thrilled my own heart also.
+She had not the strength to resist me, and in a few minutes I knew that
+the young men were out of hearing as they strode on towards the station
+and out into the wide world.
+
+The forest was solitary, we were beyond the village; all the afternoon I
+sat under the trees with the stricken girl. Again, as in her joy her
+words were few; again as in her joy her whole being was involved. Her
+little rough hands were cold, a film had gathered over her eyes; she did
+not weep, but moaned to herself, and all her senses seemed blunted. At
+nightfall I took her home, and the leathery mother received her with a
+frown; but the child was beyond caring, and crept away, dumbly, to her
+room.
+
+The next morning she was off to the hills again, nor could I find her
+for several days. Evidently in spite of my sympathy I was no more to her
+than I should have been to a wounded fawn. She was a mixture of the
+wild, shy creature of the woods and the deep-loving woman of the
+tropics; in either case I could be but small comfort. When at last I did
+see her, she was apathetic and dull; her feelings, her senses, and her
+intelligence seemed to have gone within, as if preying upon her heart.
+She scarcely listened to my proposal to take her with me; for in my pity
+I had suggested it, in spite of its difficulties.
+
+'No,' she said, mechanically, 'I'se better here'; and fell into silence
+again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A month later a friend went down to spend a few days in the valley, and
+upon her return described to us the weddings of the whilom soldiers. 'It
+was really a pretty sight,' she said, 'the quaint peasant dresses and
+the flowers. Afterwards, the band went round the village playing their
+odd tunes, and all had a holiday. There were two civilians married also;
+I mean two young men who had not been to the war. It seems that two of
+the soldiers turned their backs upon the Community and their allotted
+brides, and marched away; but the Zoar maidens are not romantic, I
+fancy, for these two deserted ones were betrothed again, and married,
+all in the short space of four weeks.'
+
+'Was not one Wilhelmina, the gardener's daughter, a short, dark girl?' I
+asked.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'And she married Jacob the baker?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next year, weary of the cold lake-winds, we left the icy shore and
+went down to the valley to meet the coming spring, finding her already
+there, decked with vines and flowers. A new waitress brought us our
+coffee.
+
+'How is Wilhelmina?' I asked.
+
+'Eh,--Wilhelmina? O, she not here now; she gone to the Next Country,'
+answered the girl in a matter-of-fact way. 'She die last October, and
+Jacob he have anoder wife now.'
+
+In the late afternoon I asked a little girl to show me Wilhelmina's
+grave in the quiet God's Acre on the hill. Innovation was creeping in,
+even here; the later graves had mounds raised over them, and one had a
+little head-board with an inscription in ink.
+
+Wilhelmina lay apart, and some one, probably the old gardener, who had
+loved her in his silent way, had planted a rose-bush at the head of the
+mound. I dismissed my guide and sat there in the sunset, thinking of
+many things, but chiefly of this: 'Why should this great wealth of love
+have been allowed to waste itself? Why is it that the greatest of power,
+unquestionably, of this mortal life should so often seem a useless
+gift?'
+
+No answer came from the sunset clouds, and as twilight sank down on the
+earth I rose to go. 'I fully believe,' I said, as though repeating a
+creed, 'that this poor, loving heart, whose earthly body lies under this
+mound, is happy in its own loving way. It has not been changed, but the
+happiness it longed for has come. How we know not; but the God who made
+Wilhelmina understands her. He has given unto her not rest, not peace,
+but an active, living joy.'
+
+I walked away through the wild meadow, under whose turf, unmarked by
+stone or mound, lay the first pioneers of the Community and out into the
+forest road, untravelled save when the dead passed over it to their last
+earthly home. The evening was still and breathless, and the shadows lay
+thick on the grass as I looked back. But I could still distinguish the
+little mound with the rose-bush at its head, and, not without tears, I
+said, 'Farewell, poor Wilhelmina; farewell.'
+
+
+
+
+ST. CLAIR FLATS
+
+
+In September, 1855, I first saw the St. Clair Flats. Owing to Raymond's
+determination, we stopped there.
+
+'Why go on?' he asked. 'Why cross another long, rough lake, when here is
+all we want?'
+
+'But no one ever stops here,' I said.
+
+'So much the better; we shall have it all to ourselves.'
+
+'But we must at least have a roof over our heads.'
+
+'I presume we can find one.'
+
+The captain of the steamer, however, knew of no roof save that covering
+a little lighthouse set on spiles, which the boat would pass within the
+half hour; we decided to get off there, and throw ourselves upon the
+charity of the lighthouse-man. In the meantime, we sat on the bow with
+Captain Kidd, our four-legged companion, who had often accompanied us on
+hunt-expeditions, but never so far westward. It had been rough on Lake
+Erie,--very rough. We, who had sailed the ocean with composure, found
+ourselves most inhumanly tossed on the short chopping waves of this
+fresh water sea; we, who alone of all the cabin-list had eaten our four
+courses every day on the ocean-steamer, found ourselves here reduced to
+the depressing diet of a herring and pilot-bread. Captain Kidd, too, had
+suffered dumbly; even now he could not find comfort, but tried every
+plank in the deck, one after the other, circling round and round after
+his tail dog-fashion, before lying down, and no sooner down than up
+again, for another choice of planks, another circling, and another
+failure. We were sailing across a small lake whose smooth waters were
+like clear green oil; as we drew near the outlet, the low, green shores
+curved inward and came together, and the steamer entered a narrow, green
+river.
+
+'Here we are,' said Raymond. 'Now we can soon land.'
+
+'But there isn't any land,' I answered.
+
+'What is that, then?' asked my near-sighted companion, pointing toward
+what seemed a shore.
+
+'Reeds.'
+
+'And what do they run back to?'
+
+'Nothing.'
+
+'But there must be solid ground beyond?'
+
+'Nothing but reeds, flags, lily-pads, grass, and water, as far as I can
+see.'
+
+'A marsh?'
+
+'Yes, a marsh.'
+
+The word 'marsh' does not bring up a beautiful picture to the mind, and
+yet the reality was as beautiful as anything I have ever seen,--an
+enchanted land, whose memory haunts me as an idea unwritten, a melody
+unsung, a picture unpainted, haunts the artist, and will not away. On
+each side and in front, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the low
+green land which was yet no land, intersected by hundreds of channels,
+narrow and broad, whose waters were green as their shores. In and out,
+now running into each other for a moment, now setting off each for
+himself again, these many channels flowed along with a rippling current;
+zigzag as they were, they never seemed to loiter, but, as if knowing
+just where they were going and what they had to do, they found time to
+take their own pleasant roundabout way, visiting the secluded households
+of their friends the flags, who, poor souls, must always stay at home.
+These currents were as clear as crystal, and green as the water-grasses
+that fringed their miniature shores. The bristling reeds, like companies
+of free-lances, rode boldly out here and there into the deeps, trying to
+conquer more territory for the grasses, but the currents were hard to
+conquer; they dismounted the free-lances, and flowed over their
+submerged heads; they beat them down with assaulting ripples; they broke
+their backs so effectually that the bravest had no spirit left, but
+trailed along, limp and bedraggled. And, if by chance the lances
+succeeded in stretching their forces across from one little shore to
+another, then the unconquered currents forced their way between the
+closely serried ranks of the enemy, and flowed on as gayly as ever,
+leaving the grasses sitting hopeless on the bank; for they needed solid
+ground for their delicate feet, these graceful ladies in green.
+
+You might call it a marsh; but there was no mud, no dark slimy water, no
+stagnant scum; there were no rank yellow lilies, no gormandizing frogs,
+no swinish mud-turtles. The clear waters of the channels ran over golden
+sands, and hurtled among the stiff reeds so swiftly that only in a bay,
+or where protected by a crescent point, could the fair white lilies
+float in the quiet their serene beauty requires. The flags, who
+brandished their swords proudly, were martinets down to their very
+heels, keeping themselves as clean under the water as above, and
+harboring not a speck of mud on their bright green uniforms. For
+inhabitants, there were small fish roving about here and there in the
+clear tide, keeping an eye out for the herons, who, watery as to legs,
+but venerable and wise of aspect, stood on promontories musing,
+apparently, on the secrets of the ages.
+
+The steamer's route was a constant curve; through the larger channels of
+the archipelago she wound, as if following the clew of a labyrinth. By
+turns she headed toward all the points of the compass, finding a channel
+where, to our uninitiated eyes, there was no channel, doubling upon her
+own track, going broadside foremost, floundering and backing, like a
+whale caught in a shallow. Here, landlocked, she would choose what
+seemed the narrowest channel of all, and dash recklessly through, with
+the reeds almost brushing her sides; there she crept gingerly along a
+broad expanse of water, her paddle-wheels scarcely revolving, in the
+excess of her caution. Saplings, with their heads of foliage on, and
+branches adorned with fluttering rags, served as finger-posts to show
+the way through the watery defiles, and there were many other
+hieroglyphics legible only to the pilot. 'This time, surely, we shall
+run ashore,' we thought again and again, as the steamer glided, head-on,
+toward an islet; but at the last there was always a quick turn into some
+unseen strait opening like a secret passage in a castle-wall, and we
+found ourselves in a new lakelet, heading in the opposite direction.
+Once we met another steamer, and the two great hulls floated slowly past
+each other, with engines motionless, so near that the passengers could
+have shaken hands with each other had they been so disposed. Not that
+they were so disposed, however; far from it. They gathered on their
+respective decks and gazed at each other gravely; not a smile was seen,
+not a word spoken, not the shadow of a salutation given. It was not
+pride, it was not suspicion; it was the universal listlessness of the
+travelling American bereft of his business, Othello with his occupation
+gone. What can such a man do on a steamer? Generally, nothing. Certainly
+he would never think of any such light-hearted nonsense as a smile or
+passing bow.
+
+But the ships were, _par excellence_, the bewitched craft, the Flying
+Dutchmen of the Flats. A brig, with lofty, sky-scraping sails, bound
+south, came into view of our steamer, bound north, and passed, we
+hugging the shore to give her room: five minutes afterward the
+sky-scraping sails we had left behind veered around in front of us
+again; another five minutes, and there they were far distant on the
+right; another, and there they were again close by us on the left. For
+half an hour those sails circled around us, and yet all the time we were
+pushing steadily forward; this seemed witching work indeed. Again, the
+numerous schooners thought nothing of sailing over-land; we saw them on
+all sides gliding before the wind, or beating up against it over the
+windows as easily as over the water; sailing on grass was a mere trifle
+to these spirit-barks. All this we saw, as I said before, apparently.
+But in that adverb is hidden the magic of the St. Clair Flats.
+
+'It is beautiful,--beautiful,' I said, looking off over the vivid green
+expanse.
+
+'Beautiful?' echoed the captain, who had himself taken charge of the
+steering when the steamer entered the labyrinth,--'I don't see anything
+beautiful in it!--Port your helm up there; port!'
+
+'Port it is, sir,' came back from the pilot-house above.
+
+'These Flats give us more trouble than any other spot on the lakes;
+vessels are all the time getting aground and blocking up the way, which
+is narrow enough at best. There's some talk of Uncle Sam's cutting a
+canal right through,--a straight canal; but he's so slow, Uncle Sam is,
+and I'm afraid I'll be off the waters before the job is done.'
+
+'A straight canal!' I repeated, thinking with dismay of an ugly
+utilitarian ditch invading this beautiful winding waste of green.
+
+'Yes, you can see for yourself what a saving it would be,' replied the
+captain. 'We could run right through in no time, day or night; whereas,
+now, we have to turn and twist and watch every inch of the whole
+everlasting marsh.' Such was the captain's opinion. But we, albeit
+neither romantic nor artistic, were captivated with his 'everlasting
+marsh,' and eager to penetrate far within its green fastnesses.
+
+'I suppose there are other families living about here, besides the
+family at the lighthouse?' I said.
+
+'Never heard of any; they'd have to live on a raft if they did.'
+
+'But there must be some solid ground.'
+
+'Don't believe it; it's nothing but one great sponge for miles.--Steady
+up there; steady!'
+
+'Very well,' said Raymond, 'so be it. If there is only the lighthouse,
+at the lighthouse we'll get off, and take our chances.'
+
+'You're surveyors, I suppose?' said the captain.
+
+Surveyors are the pioneers of the lake-country, understood by the people
+to be a set of harmless monomaniacs, given to building little
+observatories along-shore, where there is nothing to observe; mild
+madmen, whose vagaries and instruments are equally singular. As
+surveyors, therefore, the captain saw nothing surprising in our
+determination to get off at the lighthouse; if we had proposed going
+ashore on a plank in the middle of Lake Huron, he would have made no
+objection.
+
+At length the lighthouse came into view, a little fortress perched on
+spiles, with a ladder for entrance; as usual in small houses, much time
+seemed devoted to washing, for a large crane, swung to and fro by a
+rope, extended out over the water, covered with fluttering garments hung
+out to dry. The steamer lay to, our row-boat was launched, our traps
+handed out, Captain Kidd took his place in the bow, and we pushed off
+into the shallows; then the great paddle-wheels revolved again, and the
+steamer sailed away, leaving us astern, rocking on her waves, and
+watched listlessly by the passengers until a turn hid us from their
+view. In the mean time numerous flaxen-haired children had appeared at
+the little windows of the lighthouse,--too many of them, indeed, for our
+hopes of comfort.
+
+'Ten,' said Raymond, counting heads.
+
+The ten, moved by curiosity as we approached, hung out of the windows so
+far that they held on merely by their ankles.
+
+'We cannot possibly save them all,' I remarked, looking up at the
+dangling gazers.
+
+'O, they're amphibious,' said Raymond; 'web-footed, I presume.'
+
+We rowed up under the fortress, and demanded parley with the keeper in
+the following language:--
+
+'Is your father here?'
+
+'No; but ma is,' answered the chorus.--'Ma! ma!'
+
+Ma appeared, a portly female, who held converse with us from the top of
+the ladder. The sum and substance of the dialogue was that she had not a
+corner to give us, and recommended us to find Liakim, and have him show
+us the way to Waiting Samuel's.
+
+'Waiting Samuel's?' we repeated.
+
+'Yes; he's a kind of crazy man living away over there in the Flats. But
+there's no harm in him, and his wife is a tidy housekeeper. You be
+surveyors, I suppose?'
+
+We accepted the imputation in order to avoid a broadside of questions,
+and asked the whereabouts of Liakim.
+
+'O, he's round the point, somewhere there, fishing!'
+
+We rowed on and found him, a little, round-shouldered man, in an old
+flat-bottomed boat, who had not taken a fish, and looked as though he
+never would. We explained our errand.
+
+'Did Rosabel Lee tell ye to come to me?' he asked.
+
+'The woman in the lighthouse told us,' I said.
+
+'That's Rosabel Lee, that's my wife; I'm Liakim Lee,' said the little
+man, gathering together his forlorn old rods and tackle, and pulling up
+his anchor.
+
+    "In the kingdom down by the sea
+     Lived the beautiful Annabel Lee,"
+
+I quoted, _sotto voce_.
+
+'And what very remarkable feet had she!' added Raymond, improvising
+under the inspiration of certain shoes, scow-like in shape, gigantic in
+length and breadth, which had made themselves visible at the top round
+of the ladder.
+
+At length the shabby old boat got under way, and we followed in its
+path, turning off to the right through a network of channels, now
+pulling ourselves along by the reeds, now paddling over a raft of
+lily-pads, now poling through a winding labyrinth, and now rowing with
+broad sweeps across the little lake. The sun was sinking, and the
+western sky grew bright at his coming; there was not a cloud to make
+mountain-peaks on the horizon, nothing but the level earth below meeting
+the curved sky above, so evenly and clearly that it seemed as though we
+could go out there and touch it with our hands. Soon we lost sight of
+the little lighthouse; then one by one the distant sails sank down and
+disappeared, and we were left alone on the grassy sea, rowing toward the
+sunset.
+
+'We must have come a mile or two, and there is no sign of a house,' I
+called out to our guide.
+
+'Well, I don't pretend to know how far it is, exactly,' replied Liakim;
+'we don't know how far anything is here in the Flats, we don't.'
+
+'But are you sure you know the way?'
+
+'O my, yes! We've got most to the boy. There it is!'
+
+The 'boy' was a buoy, a fragment of plank painted white, part of the
+cabin-work of some wrecked steamer.
+
+'Now, then,' said Liakim, pausing, 'you jest go straight on in this here
+channel till you come to the ninth run from this boy, on the right; take
+that, and it will lead you right up to Waiting Samuel's door.'
+
+'Aren't you coming with us?'
+
+'Well, no. In the first place, Rosabel Lee will be waiting supper for
+me, and she don't like to wait; and, besides, Samuel can't abide to see
+none of us round his part of the Flats.'
+
+'But--' I began.
+
+'Let him go,' interposed Raymond; 'we can find the house without
+trouble.' And he tossed a silver dollar to the little man, who was
+already turning his boat.
+
+'Thank you,' said Liakim. 'Be sure you take the ninth run and no
+other,--the ninth run from this boy. If you make any mistake, you'll
+find yourselves miles away.'
+
+With this cheerful statement, he began to row back. I did not altogether
+fancy being left on the watery waste without a guide; the name, too, of
+our mythic host did not bring up a certainty of supper and beds.
+'Waiting Samuel,' I repeated, doubtfully. 'What is he waiting for?' I
+called back over my shoulder; for Raymond was rowing.
+
+'The judgment-day!' answered Liakim, in a shrill key. The boats were now
+far apart; another turn, and we were alone.
+
+We glided on, counting the runs on the right: some were wide, promising
+rivers; others wee little rivulets; the eighth was far away; and, when
+we had passed it, we could hardly decide whether we had reached the
+ninth or not, so small was the opening, so choked with weeds, showing
+scarcely a gleam of water beyond when we stood up to inspect it.
+
+'It is certainly the ninth, and I vote that we try it. It will do as
+well as another, and I for one, am in no hurry to arrive anywhere,' said
+Raymond, pushing the boat in among the reeds.
+
+'Do you want to lose yourself in this wilderness?' I asked, making a
+flag of my handkerchief to mark the spot where we had left the main
+stream.
+
+'I think we are lost already,' was the calm reply. I began to fear we
+were.
+
+For some distance the 'run,' as Liakim called it, continued choked with
+aquatic vegetation, which acted like so many devil-fish catching our
+oars; at length it widened and gradually gave us a clear channel, albeit
+so winding and erratic that the glow of the sunset, our only beacon,
+seemed to be executing a waltz all round the horizon. At length we saw a
+dark spot on the left, and distinguished the outline of a low house.
+'There it is,' I said, plying my oars with renewed strength. But the run
+turned short off in the opposite direction, and the house disappeared.
+After some time it rose again, this time on our right, but once more the
+run turned its back and shot off on a tangent. The sun had gone, and the
+rapid twilight of September was falling around us; the air, however, was
+singularly clear, and, as there was absolutely nothing to make a shadow,
+the darkness came on evenly over the level green. I was growing anxious,
+when a third time the house appeared, but the wilful run passed by it,
+although so near that we could distinguish its open windows and door,
+'Why not get out and wade across?' I suggested.
+
+'According to Liakim, it is the duty of this run to take us to the very
+door of Waiting Samuel's mansion, and it shall take us,' said Raymond,
+rowing on. It did.
+
+Doubling upon itself in the most unexpected manner, it brought us back
+to a little island, where the tall grass had given way to a
+vegetable-garden. We landed, secured our boat, and walked up the pathway
+toward the house. In the dusk it seemed to be a low, square structure,
+built of planks covered with plaster; the roof was flat, the windows
+unusually broad, the door stood open,--but no one appeared. We knocked.
+A voice from within called out, 'Who are you, and what do you want with
+Waiting Samuel?'
+
+'Pilgrims, asking for food and shelter,' replied Raymond.
+
+'Do you know the ways of righteousness?'
+
+'We can learn them.'
+
+'We can learn them,' I echoed.
+
+'Will you conform to the rules of this household without murmuring?'
+
+'We will.'
+
+'Enter then and peace be with you!' said the voice drawing nearer. We
+stepped cautiously through the dark passage into a room, whose open
+windows let in sufficient twilight to show us a shadowy figure. 'Seat
+yourselves,' it said. We found a bench, and sat down.
+
+'What seek ye here?' continued the shadow.
+
+'Rest!' replied Raymond.
+
+'Hunting and fishing!' I added.
+
+'Ye will find more than rest,' said the voice, ignoring me altogether (I
+am often ignored in this way),--'more than rest, if ye stay long enough,
+and learn of the hidden treasures. Are you willing to seek for them?'
+
+'Certainly!' said Raymond. 'Where shall we dig?'
+
+'I speak not of earthly digging, young man. Will you give me the charge
+of your souls?'
+
+'Certainly, if you will also take charge of our bodies.'
+
+'Supper, for instance,' I said, again coming to the front; 'and beds.'
+
+The shadow groaned; then it called out wearily, 'Roxana!'
+
+'Yes, Samuel,' replied an answering voice, and a second shadow became
+dimly visible on the threshold. 'The woman will attend to your earthly
+concerns,' said Waiting Samuel.--'Roxana, take them hence.' The second
+shadow came forward, and, without a word, took our hands and led us
+along the dark passage like two children, warning us now of a step, now
+of a turn, then of two steps, and finally opening a door and ushering us
+into a fire-lighted room. Peat was burning upon the wide hearth, and a
+singing kettle hung above it on a crane; the red glow shone on a rough
+table, chairs cushioned in bright calico, a loud ticking clock, a few
+gayly flowered plates and cups on a shelf, shining tins against the
+plastered wall, and a cat dozing on a bit of carpet in one corner. The
+cheery domestic scene, coming after the wide, dusky Flats, the silence,
+the darkness, and the mystical words of the shadowy Samuel, seemed so
+real and pleasant that my heart grew light within me.
+
+'What a bright fire!' I said. 'This is your domain, I suppose,
+Mrs.--Mrs.--'
+
+'I am not Mrs.; I am called Roxana,' replied the woman, busying herself
+at the hearth.
+
+'Ah, you are then the sister of Waiting Samuel, I presume?'
+
+'No, I am his wife, fast enough; we were married by the minister twenty
+years ago. But that was before Samuel had seen any visions.'
+
+'Does he see visions?'
+
+'Yes, almost every day.'
+
+'Do you see them, also?'
+
+'O no; I'm not like Samuel. He has great gifts, Samuel has! The visions
+told us to come here; we used to live away down in Maine.'
+
+'Indeed! That was a long journey!'
+
+'Yes! And we didn't come straight either. We'd get to one place and
+stop, and I'd think we were going to stay, and just get things
+comfortable, when Samuel would see another vision, and we'd have to
+start on. We wandered in that way two or three years, but at last we got
+here, and something in the Flats seemed to suit the spirits, and they
+let us stay.'
+
+At this moment, through the half-open door, came a voice.
+
+'An evil beast is in this house. Let him depart.'
+
+'Do you mean me?' said Raymond, who had made himself comfortable in a
+rocking-chair.
+
+'Nay; I refer to the four-legged beast,' continued the voice. 'Come
+forth, Apollyon!'
+
+Poor Captain Kidd seemed to feel that he was the person in question, for
+he hastened under the table with drooping tail and mortified aspect.
+
+'Roxana, send forth the beast,' said the voice.
+
+The woman put down her dishes and went toward the table; but I
+interposed.
+
+'If he must go, I will take him,' I said, rising.
+
+'Yes; he must go,' replied Roxana, holding open the door. So I ordered
+out the unwilling Captain, and led him into the passageway.
+
+'Out of the house, out of the house,' said Waiting Samuel. 'His feet may
+not rest upon this sacred ground. I must take him hence in the boat.'
+
+'But where?'
+
+'Across the channel there is an islet large enough for him; he shall
+have food and shelter, but here he cannot abide,' said the man, leading
+the way down to the boat.
+
+The Captain was therefore ferried across, a tent was made for him out of
+some old mats, food was provided, and, lest he should swim back, he was
+tethered by a long rope, which allowed him to prowl around his domain
+and take his choice of three runs for drinking-water. With all these
+advantages, the ungrateful animal persisted in howling dismally as we
+rowed away. It was company he wanted, and not a 'dear little isle of his
+own'; but then, he was not by nature poetical.
+
+'You do not like dogs?' I said, as we reached our strand again.
+
+'St. Paul wrote, 'Beware of dogs,' replied Samuel.
+
+'But did he mean--'
+
+'I argue not with unbelievers; his meaning is clear to me, let that
+suffice,' said my strange host, turning away and leaving me to find my
+way back alone. A delicious repast was awaiting me. Years have gone by,
+the world and all its delicacies have been unrolled before me, but the
+memory of the meals I ate in that little kitchen in the Flats haunts me
+still. That night it was only fish, potatoes, biscuit, butter, stewed
+fruit, and coffee; but the fish was fresh, and done to the turn of a
+perfect broil, not burn; the potatoes were fried to a rare crisp, yet
+tender perfection, not chippy brittleness; the biscuits were light,
+flaked creamily, and brown on the bottom; the butter freshly churned,
+without salt; the fruit, great pears, with their cores extracted,
+standing whole on their dish, ready to melt, but not melted; and the
+coffee clear and strong, with yellow cream and the old-fashioned,
+unadulterated loaf-sugar. We ate. That does not express it; we devoured.
+Roxana waited on us, and warmed up into something like excitement under
+our praises.
+
+'I _do_ like good cooking,' she confessed. 'It's about all I have left
+of my old life. I go over to the mainland for supplies, and in the
+winter I try all kinds of new things to pass away the time. But Samuel
+is a poor eater, he is; and so there isn't much comfort in it. I'm
+mighty glad you've come, and I hope you'll stay as long as you find it
+pleasant.' This we promised to do, as we finished the potatoes and
+attacked the great jellied pears. 'There's one thing, though,' continued
+Roxana; 'you'll have to come to our service on the roof at sunrise.'
+
+'What service?' I asked.
+
+'The invocation. Dawn is a holy time, Samuel says, and we always wait
+for it; 'before the morning watch,' you know,--it says so in the Bible.
+Why, my name means 'the dawn,' Samuel says; that's the reason he gave it
+to me. My real name, down in Maine, was Maria,--Maria Ann.'
+
+'But I may not wake in time,' I said.
+
+'Samuel will call you.'
+
+'And if, in spite of that, I should sleep over?'
+
+'You would not do that; it would vex him,' replied Roxana calmly.
+
+'Do you believe in these visions, madam?' asked Raymond, as we left the
+table, and seated ourselves in front of the dying fire.
+
+'Yes,' said Roxana; emphasis was unnecessary, of course she believed.
+
+'Almost every day there is a spiritual presence, but it does not always
+speak. They come and hold long conversations in the winter, when there
+is nothing else to do; that I think is very kind of them, for in the
+summer Samuel can fish and his time is more occupied. There were
+fisherman in the Bible, you know; it is a holy calling.'
+
+'Does Samuel ever go over to the mainland?'
+
+'No, he never leaves the Flats. I do all the business; take over the
+fish, and buy the supplies. I bought all our cattle,' said Roxana, with
+pride. 'I poled them away over here on a raft, one by one, when they
+were little things.'
+
+'Where do you pasture them?'
+
+'Here on the island; there are only a few acres, to be sure; but I can
+cut boat-loads of the best feed within a stone's throw. If we only had a
+little more solid ground! But this island is almost the only solid piece
+in the Flats.'
+
+'Your butter is certainly delicious.'
+
+'Yes, I do my best. It is sold to the steamers and vessels as fast as I
+make it.'
+
+'You keep yourself busy, I see.'
+
+'O, I like to work; I could'nt get on without it.'
+
+'And Samuel?'
+
+'He is not like me,' replied Roxana. 'He has great gifts, Samuel has. I
+often think how strange it is that I should be the wife of such a holy
+man! He is very kind to me, too; he tells me about the visions, and all
+the other things.'
+
+'What things?' said Raymond.
+
+'The spirits, and the sacred influence of the sun; the fiery triangle,
+and the thousand years of joy. The great day is coming, you know; Samuel
+is waiting for it.'
+
+'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace, and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, only, that makest me dwell in safety,'
+chanted a voice in the hall; the tone was deep and not without melody,
+and the words singularly impressive in that still, remote place.
+
+'Go,' said Roxana, instantly pushing aside her half-washed dishes.
+'Samuel will take you to your room.'
+
+'Do you leave your work unfinished?' I said, with some curiosity,
+noticing that she had folded her hands without even hanging up her
+towels.
+
+'We do nothing after the evening chant,' she said. 'Pray go; he is
+waiting.'
+
+'Can we have candles?'
+
+'Waiting Samuel allows no false lights in his house; as imitations of
+the glorious sun, they are abominable to him. Go, I beg.'
+
+She opened the door, and we went into the passage; it was entirely dark,
+but the man led us across to our room, showed us the position of our
+beds by sense of feeling, and left us without a word. After he had gone,
+we struck matches, one by one, and, with the aid of their uncertain
+light, managed to get into our respective mounds in safety; they were
+shake-downs on the floor, made of fragrant hay instead of straw, covered
+with beautifully clean white sheets and patchwork coverlids, and
+provided with large, luxurious pillows. O pillow! Has any one sung thy
+praises? When tired or sick, when discouraged or sad, what gives so much
+comfort as a pillow? Not your curled hair brickbats; not your stiff,
+fluted, rasping covers, or limp cotton cases; but a good, generous, soft
+pillow, deftly cased in smooth, cool, untrimmed linen! There's a friend
+for you, a friend who changes not, a friend who soothes all your
+troubles with a soft caress, a mesmeric touch of balmy forgetfulness.
+
+I slept a dreamless sleep. Then I heard a voice borne toward me as if
+coming from far over a sea, the waves bringing it nearer and nearer.
+
+'Awake!' it cried; 'awake! The night is far spent; the day is at hand.
+Awake!'
+
+I wondered vaguely over this voice as to what manner of voice it might
+be, but it came again, and again, and finally I awoke to find it at my
+side. The gray light of dawn came through the open windows, and Raymond
+was already up, engaged with a tub of water and crash towels. Again the
+chant sounded in my ears.
+
+'Very well, very well,' I said, testily. 'But if you sing before
+breakfast you'll cry before night, Waiting Samuel.'
+
+Our host had disappeared, however, without hearing my flippant speech,
+and slowly I rose from my fragrant couch; the room was empty save for
+our two mounds, two tubs of water, and a number of towels hanging on
+nails. 'Not overcrowded with furniture,' I remarked.
+
+'From Maine to Florida, from Massachusetts to Missouri, have I
+travelled, and never before found water enough,' said Raymond. 'If
+waiting for the judgment day raises such liberal ideas of tubs and
+towels, I would that all the hotel-keepers in the land could be convened
+here to take a lesson.'
+
+Our green hunting-clothes were soon donned, and we went out into the
+hall; a flight of broad steps led up to the roof; Roxana appeared at the
+top and beckoned us thither. We ascended, and found ourselves on the
+flat roof. Samuel stood with his face toward the east and his arms
+outstretched, watching the horizon; behind was Roxana, with her hands
+clasped on her breast and her head bowed: thus they waited. The eastern
+sky was bright with golden light; rays shot upward toward the zenith,
+where the rose-lights of dawn were retreating down to the west, which
+still lay in the shadow of night; there was not a sound; the Flats
+stretched out dusky and still. Two or three minutes passed, and then a
+dazzling rim appeared above the horizon, and the first gleam of sunshine
+was shed over the level earth; simultaneously the two began a chant,
+simple as a Gregorian, but rendered in correct full tones. The words,
+apparently, had been collected from the Bible:--
+
+    "The heavens declare the glory of God--
+                   Joy cometh in the morning!
+     In them is laid out the path of the sun--
+                   Joy cometh in the morning!
+     As a bride groom goeth he forth;
+     As a strong man runneth his race,
+     The outgoings of the morning
+                   Praise thee, O Lord!
+     Like a pelican in the wilderness,
+     Like a sparrow upon the house top,
+                   I wait for the Lord.
+     It is good that we hope and wait,
+                   Wait--wait.
+
+The chant over, the two stood a moment silently, as if in contemplation,
+and then descended, passing us without a word or sign, with their hands
+clasped before them as though forming part of an unseen procession.
+Raymond and I were left alone upon the house-top.
+
+'After all, it is not such a bad opening for a day; and there is the
+pelican of the wilderness to emphasize it,' I said, as a heron flew up
+from the water, and, slowly flapping his great wings, sailed across to
+another channel. As the sun rose higher, the birds began to sing; first
+a single note here and there, then a little trilling solo, and finally
+an outpouring of melody on all sides,--land-birds and water-birds, birds
+that lived in the Flats, and birds that had flown thither for
+breakfast,--the whole waste was awake and rejoicing in the sunshine.
+
+'What a wild place it is!' said Raymond. 'How boundless it looks! One
+hill in the distance, one dark line of forest, even one tree, would
+break its charm. I have seen the ocean, I have seen the prairies, I have
+seen the great desert, but this is like a mixture of the three. It is an
+ocean full of land,--a prairie full of water,--a desert full of
+verdure.'
+
+'Whatever it is, we shall find in it fishing and aquatic hunting to our
+hearts' content,' I answered.
+
+And we did. After a breakfast delicious as the supper, we took our boat
+and a lunch-basket, and set out. 'But how shall we ever find our way
+back?' I said, pausing as I recalled the network of runs, and the
+will-o'-the-wisp aspect of the house, the previous evening.
+
+'There is no other way but to take a large ball of cord with you, fasten
+one end on shore, and let it run out over the stern of the boat,' said
+Roxana. 'Let it run out loosely, and it will float on the water. When
+you want to come back you can turn around and wind it in as you come.
+_I_ can read the Flats like a book, but they're very blinding to most
+people; and you might keep going round in a circle. You will do better
+not to go far, anyway. I'll wind the bugle on the roof an hour before
+sunset; you can start back when you hear it; for it's awkward getting
+supper after dark.' With this musical promise we took the clew of twine
+which Roxana rigged for us in the stern of our boat, and started away,
+first releasing Captain Kidd, who was pacing his islet in sullen
+majesty, like another Napoleon on St. Helena. We took a new channel and
+passed behind the house, where the imported cattle were feeding in their
+little pasture; but the winding stream soon bore us away, the house sank
+out of sight, and we were left alone.
+
+We had fine sport that morning among the ducks,--wood, teal, and
+canvas-back,--shooting from behind our screens woven of rushes; later in
+the day we took to fishing. The sun shone down, but there was a cool
+September breeze, and the freshness of the verdure was like early
+spring. At noon we took our lunch and a _siesta_ among the water-lilies.
+When we awoke we found that a bittern had taken up his position near by,
+and was surveying us gravely:--
+
+    "'The moping bittern, motionless and stiff,
+      That on a stone so silently and stilly
+      Stands, an apparent sentinel, as if
+                    To guard the water-lily,'"
+
+quoted Raymond. The solemn bird, in his dark uniform, seemed quite
+undisturbed by our presence; yellow-throats and swamp-sparrows also came
+in numbers to have a look at us; and the fish swam up to the surface and
+eyed us curiously. Lying at ease in the boat, we in our turn looked down
+into the water. There is a singular fascination in looking down into a
+clear stream as the boat floats above; the mosses and twining
+water-plants seem to have arbors and grottoes in their recesses, where
+delicate marine creatures might live, naiads and mermaids of miniature
+size; at least we are always looking for them. There is a fancy, too,
+that one may find something,--a ring dropped from fair fingers idly
+trailing in the water; a book which the fishes have read thoroughly; a
+scarf caught among the lilies; a spoon with unknown initials; a drenched
+ribbon, or an embroidered handkerchief. None of these things did we
+find, but we did discover an old brass breastpin, whose probable glass
+stone was gone. It was a paltry trinket at best, but I fished it out
+with superstitious care,--a treasure-trove of the Flats. '"Drowned,"' I
+said, pathetically, '"drowned in her white robes--"'
+
+'And brass breastpin,' added Raymond, who objected to sentiment, true or
+false.
+
+'You Philistine! Is nothing sacred to you?'
+
+'Not brass jewelry, certainly.'
+
+'Take some lilies and consider them,' I said, plucking several of the
+queenly blossoms floating along-side.
+
+    "Cleopatra art thou, regal blossom,
+       Floating in thy galley down the Nile,--
+     All my soul does homage to thy splendor,
+       All my heart grows warmer in thy smile;
+     Yet thou smilest for thine own grand pleasure,
+       Caring not for all the world beside,
+     As in insolence of perfect beauty,
+       Sailest thou in silence down the tide.
+
+     "Loving, humble river all pursue thee,
+       Wafted are their kisses at thy feet;
+     Fiery sun himself cannot subdue thee,
+       Calm thou smilest through his raging heat;
+     Naught to thee the earth's great crowd of blossoms,
+       Naught to thee the rose-queen on her throne;
+     Haughty empress of the summer waters,
+       Livest thou, and diest, all alone."
+
+This from Raymond.
+
+'Where did you find that?' I asked.
+
+'It is my own.'
+
+'Of course! I might have known it. There is a certain rawness of style
+and versification which--'
+
+'That's right,' interrupted Raymond; 'I know just what you are going to
+say. The whole matter of opinion is a game of 'follow-my-leader'; not
+one of you dares admire anything unless the critics say so. If I had
+told you the verses were by somebody instead of a nobody, you would have
+found wonderful beauties in them.'
+
+'Exactly. My motto is, 'Never read anything unless it is by a somebody.'
+For, don't you see, that a nobody, if he is worth anything, will grow
+into a somebody, and, if he isn't worth anything you will have saved
+your time!'
+
+'But it is not merely a question of growing,' said Raymond; 'it is a
+question of critics.'
+
+'No; there you are mistaken. All the critics in the world can neither
+make nor crush a true poet.'
+
+'What is poetry?' said Raymond, gloomily.
+
+At this comprehensive question, the bittern gave a hollow croak, and
+flew away with his long legs trailing behind him. Probably he was not of
+an aesthetic turn of mind, and dreaded lest I should give a ramified
+answer.
+
+Through the afternoon we fished when the fancy struck us, but most of
+the time we floated idly, enjoying the wild freedom of the watery waste.
+We watched the infinite varieties of the grasses, feathery,
+lance-leaved, tufted, drooping, banner-like, the deer's tongue, the
+wild-celery, and the so-called wild-rice, besides many unknown beauties
+delicately fringed, as difficult to catch and hold as thistle-down.
+There were plants journeying to and fro on the water like nomadic tribes
+of the desert; there were fleets of green leaves floating down the
+current; and now and then we saw a wonderful flower with scarlet bells
+but could never approach near enough to touch it.
+
+At length, the distant sound of the bugle came to us on the breeze, and
+I slowly wound in the clew, directing Raymond as he pushed the boat
+along, backing water with the oars. The sound seemed to come from every
+direction. There was nothing for it to echo against, but, in place of
+the echo, we heard a long, dying cadence, which sounded on over the
+Flats fainter and fainter in a sweet, slender note, until a new tone
+broke forth. The music floated around us, now on one side, now on the
+other; if it had been our only guide, we should have been completely
+bewildered. But I wound the cord steadily; and at last suddenly, there
+before us, appeared the house with Roxana on the roof, her figure
+outlined against the sky. Seeing us, she played a final salute, and then
+descended, carrying the imprisoned music with her.
+
+That night we had our supper at sunset. Waiting Samuel had his meals by
+himself in the front room. 'So that in case the spirits come, I shall
+not be there to hinder them,' explained Roxana. 'I am not holy, like
+Samuel; they will not speak before me.'
+
+'Do you have your meals apart in the winter, also?' asked Raymond.
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'That is not very sociable,' I said.
+
+'Samuel never was sociable,' replied Roxana. 'Only common folks are
+sociable; but he is different. He has great gifts, Samuel has.'
+
+The meal over, we went up on the roof to smoke our cigars in the open
+air; when the sun had disappeared and his glory had darkened into
+twilight, our host joined us. He was a tall man, wasted and gaunt, with
+piercing dark eyes and dark hair, tinged with gray; hanging down upon
+his shoulders. (Why is it that long hair on the outside is almost always
+the sign of something wrong in the inside of a man's head?) He wore a
+black robe like a priest's cassock, and on his head a black skull-cap
+like the _Faust_ of the operatic stage.
+
+'Why were the Flats called St. Clair?' I said; for there is something
+fascinating to me in the unknown history of the West. 'There isn't any,'
+do you say? you I mean, who are strong in the Punic wars! you, too, who
+are so well up in Grecian mythology. But there is history, only we don't
+know it. The story of Lake Huron in the time of the Pharaohs, the story
+of the Mississippi during the reign of Belshazzar, would be worth
+hearing. But it is lost? All we can do is to gather together the details
+of our era,--the era when Columbus came to this New World, which was,
+nevertheless, as old as the world he left behind.
+
+'It was in 1679,' began Waiting Samuel, 'that La Salle sailed up the
+Detroit River in his little vessel of sixty tons burden, called the
+Griffin. He was accompanied by thirty-four men, mostly fur-traders; but
+there were among them two holy monks, and Father Louis Hennepin, a friar
+of the Franciscan order. They passed up the river and entered the little
+lake just south of us, crossing it and these Flats on the 12th of
+August, which is St. Clair's day. Struck with the gentle beauty of the
+scene, they named the waters after their saint, and at sunset sang a _Te
+Deum_ in her honor.'
+
+'And who was Saint Clair?'
+
+'Saint Clair, virgin and abbess, born in Italy, in 1193, made superior
+of a convent by the great Francis, and canonized for her distinguished
+virtues,' said Samuel, as though reading from an encyclopaedia.
+
+'Are you a Roman Catholic?' asked Raymond.
+
+'I am everything; all sincere faith is sacred to me,' replied the man.
+'It is but a question of names.'
+
+'Tell us of your religion,' said Raymond, thoughtfully; for in religions
+Raymond was something of a polyglot.
+
+'You would hear of my faith? Well, so be it. Your question is the work
+of spirit influence. Listen, then. The great Creator has sowed immensity
+with innumerable systems of suns. In one of these systems a spirit
+forgot that he was a limited, subordinate being, and misused his
+freedom; how, we know not. He fell, and with him all his kind. A new
+race was then created for the vacant world, and, according to the fixed
+purpose of the Creator, each was left free to act for himself; he loves
+not mere machines. The fallen spirit, envying the new creature called
+man, tempted him to sin. What was his sin? Simply the giving up of his
+birthright, the divine soul-sparkle, for an earthly pleasure. The triune
+divine deep, the mysterious fiery triangle, which, to our finite minds,
+best represents the Deity, now withdrew his personal presence; the
+elements, their balance broken, stormed upon man; his body, which was
+once ethereal, moving by mere volition, now grew heavy; and it was also
+appointed unto him to die. The race thus darkened, crippled, and
+degenerate, sank almost to the level of brutes, the mind-fire alone
+remaining of all their spiritual gifts. They lived on blindly, and as
+blindly died. The sun, however, was left to them, a type of what they
+had lost.
+
+'At length, in the fulness of time, the world-day of four thousand
+years, which was appointed by the council in heaven for the regiving of
+the divine and forfeited soul-sparkle, as on the fourth day of creation
+the great sun was given, there came to earth the earth's compassionate
+Saviour, who took upon himself our degenerate body, and revivified it
+with the divine soul-sparkle, who overcame all our temptations, and
+finally allowed the tinder of our sins to perish in his own painful
+death upon the cross. Through him our paradise body was restored, it
+waits for us on the other side of the grave. He showed us what it was
+like on Mount Tabor, with it he passed through closed doors, walked upon
+the water, and ruled the elements; so will it be with us. Paradise will
+come again; this world will, for a thousand years, see its first estate;
+it will be again the Garden of Eden. America is the great
+escaping-place; here will the change begin. As it is written, 'Those who
+escape to my utmost borders.' As the time draws near, the spirits who
+watch above are permitted to speak to those souls who listen. Of these
+listening, waiting souls am I; therefore have I withdrawn myself. The
+sun himself speaks to me, the greatest spirit of all; each morning I
+watch for his coming; each morning I ask, 'Is it to-day?' Thus do I
+wait.'
+
+'And how long have you been waiting?' I asked.
+
+'I know not; time is nothing to me.'
+
+'Is the great day near at hand?' said Raymond.
+
+'Almost at its dawning; the last days are passing.'
+
+'How do you know this?'
+
+'The spirits tell me. Abide here, and perhaps they will speak to you
+also,' replied Waiting Samuel.
+
+We made no answer. Twilight had darkened into night, and the Flats had
+sunk into silence below us. After some moments I turned to speak to our
+host; but, noiselessly as one of his own spirits, he had departed.
+
+'A strange mixture of Jacob Boehmen, chiliastic dreams, Christianity,
+sun-worship, and modern spiritualism,' I said. 'Much learning hath made
+the Maine farmer mad.'
+
+'Is he mad?' said Raymond. 'Sometimes I think we are all mad.'
+
+'We should certainly become so if we spent our time in speculations upon
+subjects clearly beyond our reach. The whole race of philosophers from
+Plato down are all the time going round in a circle. As long as we are
+in the world, I for one propose to keep my feet on solid ground;
+especially as we have no wings. 'Abide here, and perhaps the spirits
+will speak to you,' did he say? I think very likely they will, and to
+such good purpose that you won't have any mind left.'
+
+'After all, why should not spirits speak to us?' said Raymond, in a
+musing tone.
+
+As he uttered these words the mocking laugh of a loon came across the
+dark waste.
+
+'The very loons are laughing at you,' I said, rising. 'Come down; there
+is a chill in the air, composed in equal parts of the Flats, the night,
+and Waiting Samuel. Come down, man; come down to the warm kitchen and
+common-sense.'
+
+We found Roxana alone by the fire, whose glow was refreshingly real and
+warm; it was like the touch of a flesh-and-blood hand, after vague
+dreamings of spirit-companions, cold and intangible at best, with the
+added suspicion that, after all, they are but creations of our own
+fancy, and even their spirit-nature fictitious. Prime, the graceful
+_raconteur_ who goes a-fishing, says, 'firelight is as much of a
+polisher in-doors as moonlight outside.' It is; but with a different
+result. The moonlight polishes everything into romance, the firelight
+into comfort. We brought up two remarkably easy old chairs in front of
+the hearth and sat down, Raymond still adrift with his wandering
+thoughts, I, as usual, making talk out of the present. Roxana sat
+opposite, knitting in hand, the cat purring at her feet. She was a
+slender woman, with faded light hair, insignificant features, small dull
+blue eyes, and a general aspect which, with every desire to state at
+its best, I can only call commonplace. Her gown was limp, her hands
+roughened with work, and there was no collar around her yellow throat. O
+magic rim of white, great is thy power! With thee, man is civilized;
+without thee, he becomes at once a savage.
+
+'I am out of pork,' remarked Roxana, casually; 'I must go over to the
+mainland to-morrow and get some.'
+
+If it had been anything but pork! In truth, the word did not chime with
+the mystic conversation of Waiting Samuel. Yes; there was no doubt about
+it. Roxana's mind was sadly commonplace.
+
+'See what I have found,' I said, after a while, taking out the old
+breastpin. 'The stone is gone; but who knows? It might have been a
+diamond dropped by some French duchess, exiled, and fleeing for life
+across these far Western waters; or perhaps that German Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other, who, about one hundred years ago,
+was dead and buried in Russia, and travelling in America at the same
+time, a sort of a female wandering Jew, who has been done up in stories
+ever since.'
+
+(The other day, in Bret Harte's 'Melons,' I saw the following: 'The
+singular conflicting conditions of John Brown's body and soul were, at
+that time, beginning to attract the attention of American youth.' That
+is good, isn't it? Well, at the time I visited the Flats, the singular
+conflicting conditions of the Princess of
+Brunswick-Wolfen-something-or-other had, for a long time, haunted me.)
+
+Roxana's small eyes were near-sighted; she peered at the empty setting,
+but said nothing.
+
+'It is water-logged,' I continued, holding it up in the firelight, 'and
+it hath a brassy odor; nevertheless, I feel convinced that it belonged
+to the princess.'
+
+Roxana leaned forward and took the trinket; I lifted up my arms and gave
+a mighty stretch, one of those enjoyable lengthenings-out which belong
+only to the healthy fatigue of country life. When I drew myself in
+again, I was surprised to see Roxana's features working, and her rough
+hands trembling, as she held the battered setting.
+
+'It was mine,' she said; 'my dear old cameo breastpin that Abby gave me
+when I was married. I saved it and saved it, and wouldn't sell it, no
+matter how low we got, for someway it seemed to tie me to home and
+baby's grave. I used to wear it when I had baby--I had neck-ribbons
+then; we had things like other folks, and on Sundays we went to the old
+meeting-house on the green. Baby is buried there--O baby, baby!' and the
+voice broke into sobs.
+
+'You lost a child?' I said, pitying the sorrow which was, which must be,
+so lonely, so unshared.
+
+'Yes. O baby! baby!' cried the woman, in a wailing tone. 'It was a
+little boy, gentlemen, and it had curly hair, and could just talk a word
+or two; its name was Ethan, after father, but we all called it Robin.
+Father was mighty proud of Robin, and mother, too. It died, gentlemen,
+my baby died, and I buried it in the old churchyard near the thorn-tree.
+But still I thought to stay there always along with mother and the
+girls; I never supposed anything else, until Samuel began to see
+visions. Then, everything was different, and everybody against us; for,
+you see, I would marry Samuel, and when he left off working and began to
+talk to the spirits, the folks all said, 'I told yer so, Maria Ann!'
+Samuel wasn't of Maine stock exactly: his father was a sailor, and 't
+was suspected that his mother was some kind of an East-Injia woman, but
+no one knew. His father died and left the boy on the town, so he lived
+round from house to house until he got old enough to hire out. Then he
+came to our farm, and there he stayed. He had wonderful eyes, Samuel
+had, and he had a way with him--well, the long and short of it was, that
+I got to thinking about him, and couldn't think of anything else. The
+folks didn't like it at all, for, you see, there was Adam Rand, who had
+a farm of his own over the hill; but I never could bear Adam Rand. The
+worst of it was, though, that Samuel never so much as looked at me,
+hardly. Well, it got to be the second year, and Susan, my younger
+sister, married Adam Rand. Adam, he thought he'd break up my nonsense,
+that's what they called it, and so he got a good place for Samuel away
+down in Connecticut, and Samuel said he'd go, for he was always
+restless, Samuel was. When I heard it, I was ready to lie down and die.
+I ran out into the pasture and threw myself down by the fence like a
+crazy woman. Samuel happened to come by along the lane, and saw me; he
+was always kind to all the dumb creatures, and stopped to see what was
+the matter, just as he would have stopped to help a calf. It all came
+out then, and he was awful sorry for me. He sat down on the top bar of
+the fence and looked at me, and I sat on the ground a-crying with my
+hair down, and my face all red and swollen.
+
+'I never thought to marry, Maria Ann,' says he.
+
+'O, please do, Samuel,' says I, 'I'm a real good housekeeper, I am, and
+we can have a little land of our own, and everything nice--'
+
+'But I wanted to go away. My father was a sailor,' he began, a-looking
+off toward the ocean.
+
+'O, I can't stand it,' says I, beginning to cry again. Well after that
+he 'greed to stay at home and marry me, and the folks they had to give
+in to it when they saw how I felt. We were married on Thanksgiving day,
+and I wore a pink delaine, purple neck-ribbon, and this very breastpin
+that sister Abby gave me,--it cost four dollars, and came 'way from
+Boston. Mother kissed me, and said she hoped I'd be happy.
+
+'Of course I shall, mother,' says I, 'Samuel has great gifts; he isn't
+like common folks.'
+
+'But common folks is a deal comfortabler,' says mother. The folks never
+understood Samuel.
+
+'Well, we had a chirk little house and bit of land, and baby came, and
+was so cunning and pretty. The visions had begun to appear then, and
+Samuel said he must go.
+
+'Where?' says I.
+
+'Anywhere the spirits lead me,' says he.
+
+'But baby couldn't travel, and so it hung along; Samuel left off work,
+and everything ran down to loose ends; I did the best I could, but it
+wasn't much. Then baby died, and I buried him under the thorn-tree, and
+the visions came thicker and thicker; Samuel told me as how this time he
+must go. The folks wanted me to stay behind without him; but they never
+understood me nor him. I could no more leave him than I could fly; I was
+just wrapped up in him. So we went away; I cried dreadfully when it came
+to leaving the folks and Robin's little grave, but I had so much to do
+after we got started, that there wasn't time for anything but work. We
+thought to settle in ever so many places, but after a while there would
+always come a vision, and I'd have to sell out and start on. The little
+money we had was soon gone, and then I went out for days' work, and
+picked up any work I could get. But many's the time we were cold, and
+many's the time we were hungry, gentlemen. The visions kept coming, and
+by and by I got to like 'em too. Samuel he told me all they said when I
+came home nights, and it was nice to hear all about the thousand years
+of joy, when there'd be no more trouble, and when Robin would come back
+to us again. Only I told Samuel that I hoped the world wouldn't alter
+much, because I wanted to go back to Maine for a few days, and see all
+the old places. Father and mother are dead, I suppose,' said Roxana,
+looking up at us with a pathetic expression in her small dull eyes.
+Beautiful eyes are doubly beautiful in sorrow; but there is something
+peculiarly pathetic in small dull eyes looking up at you, struggling to
+express the grief that lies within, like a prisoner behind the bars of
+his small dull window.
+
+'And how did you lose your breastpin?' I said, coming back to the
+original subject.
+
+'Samuel found I had it, and threw it away soon after we came to the
+Flats; he said it was vanity.'
+
+'Have you been here long?'
+
+'O yes, years. I hope we shall stay here always now,--at least, I mean
+until the thousand years of joy begin,--for it's quiet, and Samuel's
+more easy here than in any other place. I've got used to the lonely
+feeling, and don't mind it much now. There's no one near us for miles,
+Rosabel Lee and Liakim; they don't come here, for Samuel can't abide
+'em, but sometimes I stop there on my way over from the mainland, and
+have a little chat about the children. Rosabel Lee has got lovely
+children, she has! They don't stay there in the winter, though; the
+winters _are_ long, I don't deny it.'
+
+'What do you do then?'
+
+'Well, I knit and cook, and Samuel reads to me, and has a great many
+visions.'
+
+'He has books, then!'
+
+'Yes, all kinds; he's a great reader, and he has boxes of books about
+the spirits, and such things.'
+
+'Nine of the night. Take thou thy rest. I will lay me down in peace and
+sleep, for it is thou, Lord, that makest me dwell in safety,' chanted
+the voice in the hall; and our evening was over.
+
+At dawn we attended the service on the roof; then, after breakfast, we
+released Captain Kidd, and started out for another day's sport. We had
+not rowed far when Roxana passed us, poling her flat-boat rapidly along;
+she had a load of fish and butter, and was bound for the mainland
+village. 'Bring us back a Detroit paper,' I said. She nodded and passed
+on, stolid and homely in the morning light. Yes, I was obliged to
+confess to myself that she _was_ commonplace.
+
+A glorious day we had on the moors in the rushing September wind.
+Everything rustled and waved and danced, and the grass undulated in long
+billows as far as the eye could see. The wind enjoyed himself like mad;
+he had no forests to oppose him, no heavy water to roll up,--nothing but
+merry, swaying grasses. It was the west wind,--'of all the winds, the
+best wind.' The east wind was given us for our sins; I have long
+suspected that the east wind was the angel that drove Adam out of
+Paradise. We did nothing that day,--nothing but enjoy the rushing
+breeze. We felt like Bedouins of the desert, with our boat for a steed.
+'He came flying upon the wings of the wind,' is the grandest image of
+the Hebrew poet.
+
+Late in the afternoon we heard the bugle and returned, following our
+clew as before. Roxana had brought a late paper, and, opening it, I saw
+the account of an accident,--a yacht run down on the Sound and five
+drowned; five, all near and dear to us. Hastily and sadly we gathered
+our possessions together; the hunting, the fishing, were nothing now;
+all we thought of was to get away, to go home to the sorrowing ones
+around the new-made graves. Roxana went with us in her boat to guide us
+back to the little lighthouse. Waiting Samuel bade us no farewell, but
+as we rowed away we saw him standing on the house-top gazing after us.
+We bowed; he waved his hand; and then turned away to look at the sunset.
+What were our little affairs to a man who held converse with the
+spirits!
+
+We rowed in silence. How long, how weary seemed the way! The grasses,
+the lilies, the silver channels,--we no longer even saw them. At length
+the forward boat stopped. 'There's the lighthouse yonder,' said Roxana.
+'I won't go over there to-night. Mayhap you'd rather not talk, and
+Rosabel Lee will be sure to talk to me. Good by.' We shook hands, and I
+laid in the boat a sum of money to help the little household through the
+winter; then we rowed on toward the lighthouse. At the turn I looked
+back; Roxana was sitting motionless in her boat; the dark clouds were
+rolling up behind her; and the Flats looked wild and desolate. 'God help
+her!' I said.
+
+A steamer passed the lighthouse and took us off within the hour.
+
+Years rolled away, and I often thought of the grassy sea, and its
+singularly strange associations, and intended to go there; but the
+intention never grew into reality. In 1870, however, I was travelling
+westward, and, finding myself at Detroit, a sudden impulse took me up to
+the Flats. The steamer sailed up the beautiful river and crossed the
+little lake, both unchanged. But, alas! the canal predicted by the
+captain fifteen years before had been cut, and, in all its unmitigated
+ugliness, stretched straight through the enchanted land. I got off at
+the new and prosaic brick lighthouse, half expecting to see Liakim and
+his Rosabel Lee; but they were not there, and no one knew anything about
+them. And Waiting Samuel? No one knew anything about him either. I took
+a skiff, and, at the risk of losing myself, I rowed away into the
+wilderness, spending the day among the silvery channels, which were as
+beautiful as ever. There were fewer birds; I saw no grave herons, no
+sombre bitterns, and the fish had grown shy. But the water-lilies were
+beautiful as of old, and the grasses as delicate and luxuriant. I had
+scarcely a hope of finding the old house on the island, but late in the
+afternoon, by a mere chance, I rowed up unexpectedly to its little
+landing-place. The walls stood firm and the roof unbroken; I landed and
+walked up the overgrown path. Opening the door, I found the few old
+chairs and tables in their places, weather-beaten and decayed, the
+storms had forced a way within, and the floor was insecure; but the gay
+crockery was on its shelf, the old tins against the wall, and all looked
+so natural that I almost feared to find the mortal remains of the
+husband and wife as I went from room to room. They were not there,
+however, and the place looked as if it had been uninhabited for years. I
+lingered in the doorway. What had become of them? Were they dead? Or had
+a new vision sent them farther toward the setting sun? I never knew,
+although I made many inquiries. If dead, they were probably lying
+somewhere under the shining waters; if alive, they must have 'folded
+their tents, like the Arabs, and silently stolen away.'
+
+I rowed back in the glow of the evening across the grassy sea. 'It is
+beautiful, beautiful,' I thought, 'but it is passing away. Already
+commerce has invaded its borders; a few more years and its loveliness
+will be but a legend of the past. The bittern has vanished; the loon has
+fled away. Waiting Samuel was the prophet of the waste; he has gone, and
+the barriers are broken down. No artist has painted, no poet has sung
+your wild, vanishing charm; but in one heart, at least, you have a
+place, O lovely land of St. Clair!'
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF LITTLE FISHING.
+
+
+It was an island in Lake Superior.
+
+I beached my canoe there about four o'clock in the afternoon, for the
+wind was against me and a high sea running. The late summer of 1850, and
+I was coasting along the south shore of the great lake, hunting,
+fishing, and camping on the beach, under the delusion that in that way I
+was living 'close to the great heart of nature,'--whatever that may
+mean. Lord Bacon got up the phrase; I suppose he knew. Pulling the boat
+high and dry on the sand with the comfortable reflection that here were
+no tides to disturb her with their goings-out and comings-in, I strolled
+through the woods on a tour of exploration, expecting to find bluebells,
+Indian pipes, juniper rings, perhaps a few agates along-shore, possibly
+a bird or two for company. I found a town.
+
+It was deserted; but none the less a town, with three streets,
+residences, a meeting-house, gardens, a little park, and an attempt at a
+fountain. Ruins are rare in the New World. I took off my hat. 'Hail,
+homes of the past!' I said. (I cultivated the habit of thinking aloud
+when I was living close to the great heart of nature.) 'A human voice
+resounds through your arches' (there were no arches,--logs won't arch;
+but never mind) 'once more, a human hand touches your venerable walls, a
+human foot presses your deserted hearth-stones.' I then selected the
+best half of the meeting-house for a camp, and kindled a glorious
+bonfire in the park. 'Now that you are illuminated with joy, O Ruin,' I
+remarked, 'I will go down to the beach and bring up my supplies. It is
+long since I have had a roof over my head; I promise you to stay until
+your last residence is well burned; then I will make a final cup of
+coffee with the meeting-house itself, and depart in peace, leaving your
+poor old bones buried in decent ashes.'
+
+The ruin made no objection, and I took up my abode there, the roof of
+the meeting-house was still water-tight (which is an advantage when the
+great heart of nature grows wet). I kindled a fire on the sacerdotal
+hearth, cooked my supper, ate it in leisurely comfort, and then
+stretched myself on a blanket to enjoy an evening pipe of peace,
+listening meanwhile to the sounding of the wind through the great
+pine-trees. There was no door to my sanctuary, but I had the cosey far
+end; the island was uninhabited, there was not a boat in sight at
+sunset, nothing could disturb me unless it might be a ghost. Presently a
+ghost came in.
+
+It did not wear the traditional gray tarlatan armor of Hamlet's father,
+the only ghost with whom I am well acquainted; this spectre was clad in
+substantial deer-skin garments, and carried a gun and loaded game-bag.
+It came forward to my hearth, hung up its gun, opened its game-bag, took
+out some birds, and inspected them gravely.
+
+'Fat?' I inquired.
+
+'They'll do,' replied the spectre, and forthwith set to work preparing
+them for the coals. I smoked on in silence. The spectre seemed to be a
+skilled cook, and after deftly broiling its supper, it offered me a
+share; I accepted. It swallowed a huge mouthful and crunched with its
+teeth; the spell was broken, and I knew it for a man of flesh and blood.
+
+He gave his name as Reuben, and proved himself an excellent camping
+companion; in fact, he shot all the game, caught all the fish, made all
+the fires, and cooked all the food for us both. I proposed to him to
+stay and help me burn up the ruin, with the condition that when the last
+timber of the meeting-house was consumed, we should shake hands and
+depart, one to the east, one to the west, without a backward glance. 'In
+that way we shall not infringe upon each other's personality,' I said.
+
+'Agreed,' replied Reuben.
+
+He was a man of between fifty and sixty years, while I was on the sunny
+side of thirty; he was reserved, I was always generously affable; he was
+an excellent cook, while I--well, I wasn't; he was taciturn, and so, in
+payment for the work he did, I entertained him with conversation, or
+rather monologue, in my most brilliant style. It took only two weeks to
+burn up the town, burned we never so slowly; at last it came to the
+meeting house, which now stood by itself in the vacant clearing. It was
+a cool September day; we cooked breakfast with the roof, dinner with the
+sides, supper with the odds and ends, and then applied a torch to the
+framework. Our last camp-fire was a glorious one. We lay stretched on
+our blankets, smoking and watching the glow. 'I wonder, now, who built
+the old shanty,' I said in a musing tone.
+
+'Well,' replied Reuben, slowly, 'if you really want to know, I will tell
+you. I did.'
+
+'You!'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'You didn't do it alone?'
+
+'No; there were about forty of us.'
+
+'Here?'
+
+'Yes; here at Little Fishing;'
+
+'Little Fishing?'
+
+'Yes; Little Fishing Island. That is the name of the place.'
+
+'How long ago was this?'
+
+'Thirty years.'
+
+'Hunting and trapping, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes; for the Northwest and Hudson Bay Companies.'
+
+'Wasn't a meeting house an unusual accompaniment?'
+
+'Most unusual.'
+
+'Accounted for in this case by--'
+
+'A woman.'
+
+'Ah!' I said in a tone of relish; 'then of course there is a story?'
+
+'There is.'
+
+'Out with it, comrade. I scarcely expected to find the woman and her
+story up here; but since the irrepressible creature would come, out with
+her by all means. She shall grace our last pipe together, the last
+timber of our meeting-house, our last night on Little Fishing. The dawn
+will see us far from each other, to meet no more this side heaven. Speak
+then, O comrade mine! I am in one of my rare listening moods!'
+
+I stretched myself at ease and waited. Reuben was a long time beginning
+but I was too indolent to urge him. At length he spoke.
+
+'They were a rough set here at Little Fishing, all the worse for being
+all white men; most of the other camps were full of half-breeds and
+Indians. The island had been a station away back in the early days of
+the Hudson Bay Company; it was a station for the Northwest Company while
+that lasted; then it went back to the Hudson, and stayed there until the
+company moved its forces farther to the north. It was not at any time a
+regular post; only a camp for the hunters. The post was farther down the
+lake. O, but those were wild days! You think you know the wilderness,
+boy; but you know nothing, absolutely nothing. It makes me laugh to see
+the airs of you city gentlemen with your fine guns, improved
+fishing-tackle, elaborate paraphernalia, as though you were going to wed
+the whole forest, floating up and down the lake for a month or two in
+the summer! You should have seen the hunters of Little Fishing going out
+gayly when the mercury was down twenty degrees below zero, for a week in
+the woods. You should have seen the trappers wading through the hard
+snow, breast high, in the gray dawn, visiting the traps and hauling home
+the prey. There were all kinds of men here, Scotch, French, English, and
+American; all classes, the high and the low, the educated and the
+ignorant; all sorts, the lazy and the hard-working. One thing only they
+all had in common,--badness. Some had fled to the wilderness to escape
+the law, others to escape order; some had chosen the wild life because
+of its wildness, others had drifted into it from sheer lethargy. This
+far northern border did not attract the plodding emigrant, the
+respectable settler. Little Fishing held none of that trash; only a
+reckless set of fellows who carried their lives in their hands, and
+tossed them up, if need be without a second thought.'
+
+'And other people's lives without a third,' I suggested.
+
+'Yes; if they deserved it. But nobody whined; there wasn't any nonsense
+here. The men went hunting and trapping, got the furs ready for the
+bateaux, ate when they were hungry, drank when they were thirsty, slept
+when they were sleepy, played cards when they felt like it, and got
+angry and knocked each other down whenever they chose. As I said before,
+there wasn't any nonsense at Little Fishing,--until _she_ came.'
+
+'Ah! the she!'
+
+'Yes, the Lady,--our Lady, as we called her. Thirty-one years ago; how
+long it seems!'
+
+'And well it may,' I said. 'Why, comrade, I wasn't born then!'
+
+This stupendous fact seemed to strike me more than my companion; he went
+on with his story as though I had not spoken.
+
+'One October evening, four of the boys had got into a row over the
+cards; the rest of us had come out of our wigwams to see the fun, and
+were sitting around on the stumps, chaffing them, and laughing; the
+camp-fire was burning in front, lighting up the woods with a red glow
+for a short distance, and making the rest doubly black all around. There
+we were, as I said before, quite easy and comfortable, when suddenly
+there appeared among us, as though she had dropped from heaven, a woman!
+
+'She was tall and slender, the firelight shone full on her pale face and
+dove-colored dress, her golden hair was folded back under a little white
+cap, and a white kerchief lay over her shoulders; she looked spotless. I
+stared; I could scarcely believe my eyes; none of us could. There was
+not a white woman west of the Sault Ste. Marie. The four fellows at the
+table sat as if transfixed; one had his partner by the throat, the other
+two were disputing over a point in the game. The lily lady glided up to
+their table, gathered the cards in her white hands, slowly, steadily,
+without pause or trepidation before their astonished eyes, and then,
+coming back, she threw the cards into the centre of the glowing fire.
+'Ye shall not play away your souls,' she said in a clear, sweet voice.
+'Is not the game sin? And its reward death?' And then, immediately, she
+gave us a sermon, the like of which was never heard before; no argument,
+no doctrine, just simple, pure entreaty. 'For the love of God,' she
+ended, stretching out her hands toward our silent, gazing group,--'for
+the love of God, my brothers, try to do better.'
+
+'We did try; but it was not for the love of God. Neither did any of us
+feel like brothers.
+
+'She did not give any name; we called her simply our Lady, and she
+accepted the title. A bundle carefully packed in birch-bark was found on
+the beach. 'Is this yours?' asked black Andy.
+
+'It is,' replied the Lady; and removing his hat, the black-haired giant
+carried the package reverently inside her lodge. For we had given her
+our best wigwam, and fenced it off with pine saplings so that it looked
+like a miniature fortress. The Lady did not suggest this stockade; it
+was our own idea, and with one accord we worked at it like beavers, and
+hung up a gate with a ponderous bolt inside.
+
+'Mais, ze can nevare farsen eet wiz her leetle fingares,' said Frenchy,
+a sallow little wretch with a turn for handicraft; so he contrived a
+small spring which shot the bolt into place with a touch. The Lady lived
+in her fortress; three times a day the men carried food to her door,
+and, after tapping gently, withdrew again, stumbling over each other in
+their haste. The Flying Dutchman, a stolid Holland-born sailor, was our
+best cook, and the pans and kettles were generally left to him; but now
+all wanted to try their skill, and the results were extraordinary.
+
+'She's never touched that pudding, now' said Nightingale Jack,
+discontentedly, as his concoction of berries and paste came back from
+the fortress door.
+
+'She will starve soon, I think,' remarked the Doctor, calmly; 'to my
+certain knowledge she has not had an eatable meal for four days.' And he
+lighted a fresh pipe. This was an aside, and the men pretended not to
+hear it; but the pans were relinquished to the Dutchman from that time
+forth.
+
+'The Lady wore always her dove-colored robe, and little white cap,
+through whose muslin we could see the glimmer of her golden hair. She
+came and went among us like a spirit; she knew no fear; she turned our
+life inside out, nor shrank from its vileness. It seemed as though she
+was not of earth, so utterly impersonal was her interest in us, so
+heavenly her pity. She took up our sins, one by one, as an angel might;
+she pleaded with us for our own lost souls, she spared us not, she held
+not back one grain of denunciation, one iota of future punishment.
+Sometimes, for days, we would not see her; then, at twilight, she would
+glide out among us, and, standing in the light of the camp-fire, she
+would preach to us as though inspired. We listened to her; I do not mean
+that we were one whit better at heart, but still we listened to her,
+always. It was a wonderful sight, that lily face under the pine-trees,
+that spotless woman standing alone in the glare of the fire, while
+around her lay forty evil-minded, lawless men, not one of whom but would
+have killed his neighbor for so much as a disrespectful thought of her.
+
+'So strange was her coming, so almost supernatural her appearance in
+this far forest, that we never wondered over its cause, but simply
+accepted it as a sort of miracle; your thoroughly irreligious men are
+always superstitious. Not one of us would have asked a question, and we
+should never have known her story had she not herself told it to us; not
+immediately, not as though it was of any importance, but quietly,
+briefly, and candidly as a child. She came, she said, from Scotland,
+with a band of God's people. She had always been in one house, a
+religious institution of some kind, sewing for the poor when her
+strength allowed it, but generally ill, and suffering much from pain in
+her head; often kept under the influence of soothing medicines for days
+together. She had no father or mother, she was only one of this band;
+and when they decided to send out missionaries to America, she begged to
+go, although but a burden; the sea voyage restored her health; she grew,
+she said, in strength and in grace, and her heart was as the heart of a
+lion. Word came to her from on high that she should come up into the
+northern lake-country and preach the gospel there; the band were going
+to the verdant prairies. She left them in the night, taking nothing but
+her clothing; a friendly vessel carried her north; she had preached the
+gospel everywhere. At the Sault the priests had driven her out, but
+nothing fearing, she went on into the wilderness, and so, coming part of
+the way in canoes, part of the way along-shore, she had reached our far
+island. Marvellous kindness had she met with, she said; the Indians, the
+half-breeds, the hunters, and the trappers had all received her, and
+helped her on her way from camp to camp. They had listened to her words
+also. At Portage they had begged her to stay through the winter, and
+offered to build her a little church for Sunday services. Our men looked
+at each other. Portage was the worst camp on the lake, notorious for its
+fights; it was a mining settlement.
+
+'But I told them I must journey on toward the west,' continued our Lady.
+'I am called to visit every camp on this shore before winter sets in; I
+must soon leave you also.'
+
+'The men looked at each other again; the Doctor was spokesman. 'But, my
+Lady,' he said 'the next post is Fort William, two hundred and
+thirty-five miles away on the north shore.'
+
+'It is almost November; the snow will soon be six and ten feet deep.
+The Lady could never travel through it,--could she now?' said Black
+Andy, who had begun eagerly, but in his embarrassment at the sound of
+his own voice, now turned to Frenchy and kicked him covertly into
+answering.
+
+'Nevare!' replied the Frenchman; he had intended to place his hand upon
+his heart to give emphasis to his word, but the Lady turned her calm
+eyes that way, and his grimy paw fell, its gallantry wilted.
+
+'I thought there was one more camp,--at Burntwood River,' said our Lady
+in a musing tone. The men looked at each other a third time; there was a
+camp there, and they all knew it. But the Doctor was equal to the
+emergency.
+
+'That camp, my Lady,' he said gravely,--'that camp no longer exists!
+Then he whispered hurriedly to the rest of us, 'It will be an easy job
+to clean it out, boys. We'll send over a party to-night; it's only
+thirty-five miles.'
+
+'We recognized superior genius; the Doctor was our oldest and deepest
+sinner. But what struck us most was his anxiety to make good his lie.
+Had it then come to this,--that the Doctor told the truth?
+
+'The next day we all went to work to build our Lady a church; in a week
+it was completed. There goes its last cross-beam now into the fire; it
+was a solid piece of work, wasn't it? It has stood this climate thirty
+years. I remember the first Sunday service: we all washed, and dressed
+ourselves in the best we had; we scarcely knew each other we were so
+fine. The Lady was pleased with the church, but yet she had not said she
+would stay all winter; we were still anxious. How she preached to us
+that day! We had made a screen of young spruces set in boxes, and her
+figure stood out against the dark green background like a thing of
+light. Her silvery voice rang through the log-temple, her face seemed to
+us like a star. She had no color in her cheeks at any time; her dress,
+too, was colorless. Although gentle, there was an iron inflexibility
+about her slight, erect form. We felt, as we saw her standing there,
+that if need be she would walk up to the cannon's mouth, with a smile.
+She took a little book from her pocket and read to us a hymn,--'O come,
+all ye faithful,' the old 'Adeste Fideles.' Some of us knew it; she
+sang, and gradually, shamefacedly, voices joined in. It was a sight to
+see Nightingale Jack solemnly singing away about 'choirs of angels';
+but it was a treat to hear him, too,--what a voice he had! Then our
+Lady prayed, kneeling down on the little platform in front of the
+evergreens, clasping her hands, and lifting her eyes to heaven. We did
+not know what to do at first, but the Doctor gave us a severe look and
+bent his head, and we all followed his lead.
+
+'When service was over and the door opened, we found that it had been
+snowing; we could not see out through the windows because white cloth
+was nailed over them in place of glass.
+
+'"Now, my Lady, you will have to stay with us," said the Doctor. We all
+gathered around with eager faces.
+
+'"Do you really believe that it will be for the good of your souls?"
+asked the sweet voice.
+
+'The Doctor believed--for us all.
+
+'"Do you really hope?"
+
+'The Doctor hoped.
+
+'"Will you try to do your best?"
+
+'The Doctor was sure he would.
+
+'"I will," answered the Flying Dutchman, earnestly. "I moost not fry de
+meat any more; I moost broil!"
+
+'For we had begged him for months to broil, and he had obstinately
+refused; broil represented the good, and fry the evil, to his mind; he
+came out for the good according to his light; but none the less did we
+fall upon him behind the Lady's back, and cuff him into silence.
+
+'She stayed with us all winter. You don't know what the winters are up
+here; steady, bitter cold for seven months, thermometer always below,
+the snow dry as dust, the air like a knife. We built a compact chimney
+for our Lady, and we cut cords of wood into small, light sticks, easy
+for her to lift, and stacked them in her shed; we lined her lodge with
+skins, and we made oil from bear's fat and rigged up a kind of lamp for
+her. We tried to make candles, I remember, but they would not run
+straight; they came out humpbacked and sidling, and burned themselves to
+wick in no time. Then we took to improving the town. We had lived in all
+kinds of huts and lean-to shanties; now nothing would do but regular
+log-houses. If it had been summer, I don't know what we might not have
+run to in the way of piazzas and fancy steps; but with the snow five
+feet deep, all we could accomplish was a plain, square log-house, and
+even that took our whole force. The only way to keep the peace was to
+have all the houses exactly alike; we laid out the three streets, and
+built the houses, all facing the meeting-house, just as you found them.'
+
+'And where was the Lady's lodge?' I asked, for I recalled no stockaded
+fortress, large or small.
+
+My companion hesitated a moment. Then he said abruptly, 'it was torn
+down.'
+
+'Torn down!' I repeated. 'Why, what--'
+
+Reuben waved his hand with a gesture that silenced me, and went on with
+his story. It came to me then for the first time, that he was pursuing
+the current of his own thoughts rather than entertaining me. I turned to
+look at him with a new interest. I had talked to him for two weeks, in
+rather a patronizing way; could it be that affairs were now, at this
+moment, reversed?
+
+'It took us almost all winter to build those houses,' pursued Reuben.
+'At one time we neglected the hunting and trapping to such a degree,
+that the Doctor called a meeting and expressed his opinion. Ours was a
+voluntary camp, in a measure, but still we had formally agreed to get a
+certain amount of skins ready for the bateaux by early spring; this
+agreement was about the only real bond of union between us. Those whose
+houses were not completed scowled at the Doctor.
+
+'"Do you suppose I'm going to live like an Injun when the other fellows
+has regular houses?" inquired Black Andy, with a menacing air.
+
+'"By no means," replied the Doctor, blandly, "My plan is this: build at
+night."
+
+'"At night?"
+
+'"Yes; by the light of pine fires."
+
+'We did. After that, we faithfully went out hunting and trapping as long
+as daylight lasted, and then, after supper, we built up huge fires of
+pine logs, and went to work on the next house. It was a strange picture;
+the forest deep in snow, black with night, the red glow of the great
+fires, and our moving figures working on as complacently as though
+daylight, balmy air, and the best of tools were ours.
+
+'The Lady liked our industry. She said our new houses showed that the
+"new cleanliness of our inner man required a cleaner tabernacle for the
+outer." I don't know about our inner man, but our outer was certainly
+much cleaner.
+
+'One day the Flying Dutchman made one of his unfortunate remarks. "De
+boys t'inks you'll like dem better in nize houses," he announced when,
+happening to pass the fortress, he found the Lady standing at her gate
+gazing at the work of the preceding night. Several of the men were near
+enough to hear him, but too far off to kick him into silence as usual;
+but they glared at him instead. The Lady looked at the speaker with her
+dreamy, far-off eyes.
+
+'"De boys t'inks you like dem," began the Dutchman again, thinking she
+did not comprehend; but at that instant he caught the combined glare of
+the six eyes, and stopped abruptly, not all knowing what was wrong, but
+sure there was something.
+
+'"Like them," repeated the Lady, dreamily; "yea I do like them. Nay,
+more, I love them. Their souls are as dear to me as the souls of
+brothers."
+
+'Say, Frenchy, have you got a sister?' said Nightingale Jack,
+confidentially, that evening.
+
+'Mais oui,' said Frenchy.
+
+'You think all creation of her, I suppose?'
+
+'We fight like four cats and one dog; _she_ is the cats,' said the
+Frenchman concisely.
+
+'You don't say so!' replied Jack. 'Now, I never had a sister,--but I
+thought perhaps--' He paused, and the sentence remained unfinished.
+
+'The Nightingale and I were housemates. We sat late over our fire not
+long after that; I gave a gigantic yawn. 'This lifting logs half the
+night is enough to kill one,' I said, getting out my jug. Sing
+something, Jack. It's a long time since I've heard anything but hymns.'
+
+'Jack always went off as easily as a music-box: you only had to wind him
+up; the jug was the key. I soon had him in full blast. He was giving out
+
+    'The minute gun at sea,--the minute gun at sea,'
+
+with all the pathos of his tenor voice, when the door burst open and the
+whole population rushed in upon us.
+
+'What do you mean by shouting thes way, in the middle of the night?'
+
+'Shut up your howling, Jack.'
+
+'How do you suppose any one can sleep?'
+
+'It's a disgrace to the camp!'
+
+'Now then, gentlemen,' I replied, for my blood was up (whiskey,
+perhaps), 'is this my house, or isn't it? If I want music, I'll have it.
+Time was when you were not so particular.'
+
+'It was the first word of rebellion. The men looked at each other, then
+at me.
+
+'I'll go and ask her if she objects,' I continued, boldly.
+
+'No, no. You shall not.'
+
+'Let him go,' said the Doctor, who stood smoking his pipe on the
+outskirts of the crowd. 'It is just as well to have that point settled
+now. The Minute Gun at Sea is a good moral song in its way,--a sort of
+marine missionary affair.'
+
+'So I started, the others followed; we all knew that the Lady watched
+late; we often saw the glimmer of her lamp far on toward morning. It was
+burning now. The gate was fastened, I knocked; no answer. I knocked
+again, and yet a third time; still silence. The men stood off at a
+little distance and waited. 'She shall answer,' I said angrily, and
+going around to the side where the stockade came nearer to the wall of
+the lodge, I knocked loudly on the close-set saplings. For answer I
+thought I heard a low moan; I listened, it came again. My anger
+vanished, and with a mighty bound I swung myself up to the top of the
+stockade, sprung down inside, ran around, and tried the door. It was
+fastened; I burst it open and entered. There, by the light of the
+hanging lamp, I saw the Lady on the floor, apparently dead. I raised her
+in my arms; her heart was beating faintly, but she was unconscious. I
+had seen many fainting fits; this was something different; the limbs
+were rigid. I laid her on the low couch, loosened her dress, bathed her
+head and face in cold water, and wrenched up one of the warm
+hearth-stones to apply to her feet. I did not hesitate; I saw that it
+was a dangerous case, something like a trance or an 'ectasis.' Somebody
+must attend to her, and there were only men to choose from. Then why not
+I?
+
+'I heard the others talking outside; they could not understand the
+delay; but I never heeded, and kept on my work. To tell the truth, I had
+studied medicine, and felt a genuine enthusiasm over a rare case. Once
+my patient opened her eyes and looked at me, then she lapsed away again
+into unconsciousness in spite of all my efforts. At last the men
+outside came in, angry and suspicious; they had broken down the gate.
+There we all stood, the whole forty of us, around the deathlike form of
+our Lady.
+
+'What a night it was! To give her air, the men camped outside in the
+snow with a line of pickets in whispering distance from each other from
+the bed to their anxious group. Two were detailed to help me,--the
+Doctor (whose title was a sarcastic D. D.) and Jimmy, a gentle little
+man, excellent at bandaging broken limbs. Every vial in the camp was
+brought in,--astonishing lotions, drops, and balms; each man produced
+something; they did their best, poor fellows, and wore out the night
+with their anxiety. At dawn our Lady revived suddenly, thanked us all,
+and assured us that she felt quite well again; the trance was over. 'It
+was my old enemy,' she said, 'the old illness of Scotland, which I hoped
+had left me for ever. But I am thankful that it is no worse; I have come
+out of it with a clear brain. Sing a hymn of thankfulness for me, dear
+friends, before you go.'
+
+'Now, we sang on Sunday in the church; but then she led us, and we had a
+kind of an idea that after all she did not hear us. But now, who was to
+lead us? We stood awkwardly around the bed, and shuffled our hats in our
+uneasy fingers. The Doctor fixed his eyes upon the Nightingale; Jack saw
+it and cowered. 'Begin,' said the Doctor in a soft voice; but gripping
+him in the back at the same time with an ominous clutch.
+
+'I don't know the words,' faltered the unhappy Nightingale.
+
+    "'Now thank we all our God,
+      With hearts and hands and voices,'
+
+began the Doctor, and repeated Luther's hymn with perfect accuracy from
+beginning to end. 'What will happen next? The Doctor knows hymns!' we
+thought in profound astonishment. But the Nightingale had begun, and
+gradually our singers joined in; I doubt whether the grand old choral
+was ever sung by such a company before or since. There was never any
+further question, by the way, about that minute gun at sea; it stayed at
+sea as far as we were concerned.
+
+'Spring came, the faltering spring of Lake Superior. I won't go into my
+own story, but such as it was, the spring brought it back to me with new
+force. I wanted to go,--and yet I didn't. 'Where,' do you ask? To see
+her, of course,--a woman, the most beautiful,--well, never mind all
+that. To be brief, I loved her; she scorned me; I thought I had learned
+to hate her--but--I wasn't sure about it now. I kept myself aloof from
+the others and gave up my heart to the old sweet, bitter memories; I did
+not even go to church on Sundays. But all the rest went; our Lady's
+influence was as great as ever. I could hear them singing; they sang
+better now that they could have the door open; the pent-up feeling used
+to stifle them. The time for the bateaux drew near, and I noticed that
+several of the men were hard at work packing the furs in bales, a job
+usually left to the _voyageurs_ who came with the boats. 'What's that
+for?' I asked.
+
+'You don't suppose we're going to have those bateaux rascals camping on
+Little Fishing, do you?' said black Andy, scornfully. 'Where are your
+wits, Reub?'
+
+'And they packed every skin, rafted them all over to the mainland, and
+waited there patiently for days, until the train of slow boats came
+along and took off the bales; then they came back in triumph. 'Now we're
+secure for another six months,' they said, and began to lay out a park,
+and gardens for every house. The Lady was fond of flowers; the whole
+town burst into blossom. The Lady liked green grass; all the clearing
+was soon tufted over like a lawn. The men tried the ice-cold lake every
+day, waiting anxiously for the time when they could bathe. There was no
+end to their cleanliness; Black Andy had grown almost white again, and
+Frenchy's hair shone like oiled silk.
+
+'The Lady stayed on, and all went well. But, gradually, there came a
+discovery. The Lady was changing,--had changed! Gradually, slowly, but
+none the less distinctly to the eyes that knew her every eyelash. A
+little more hair was visible over the white brow; there was a faint
+color in the cheeks, a quicker step; the clear eyes were sometimes
+downcast now, the steady voice softer, the words at times faltering. In
+the early summer the white cap vanished, and she stood among us crowned
+only with her golden hair; one day she was seen through her open door
+sewing on a white robe! The men noted all these things silently; they
+were even a little troubled as at something they did not understand,
+something beyond their reach. Was she planning to leave them?
+
+'It's my belief she's getting ready to ascend right up into heaven,'
+said Salem.
+
+'Salem was a little 'wanting,' as it is called, and the men knew it;
+still, his words made an impression. They watched the Lady with an awe
+which was almost superstitious; they were troubled, and knew not why.
+But the Lady bloomed on. I did not pay much attention to all this; but I
+could not help hearing it. My heart was moody, full of its own sorrows;
+I secluded myself more and more. Gradually I took to going off into the
+mainland forests for days on solitary hunting expeditions. The camp went
+on its way rejoicing; the men succeeded, after a world of trouble, in
+making a fountain which actually played, and they glorified themselves
+exceedingly. The life grew quite pastoral. There was talk of importing a
+cow from the East, and a messenger was sent to the Sault for certain
+choice supplies against the coming winter. But, in the late summers the
+whisper went round again that the Lady had changed, this time for the
+worse. She looked ill, she drooped from day to day; the new life that
+had come to her vanished, but her former life was not restored. She grew
+silent and sad, she strayed away by herself through the woods, she
+scarcely noticed the men who followed her with anxious eyes. Time
+passed, and brought with it an undercurrent of trouble, suspicion, and
+anger. Everything went on as before; not one habit, not one custom was
+altered; both sides seemed to shrink from the first change, however
+slight. The daily life of the camp was outwardly the same, but brooding
+trouble filled every heart. There was no open discussion, men talked
+apart in twos and threes; a gloom rested over everything, but no one
+said, 'What is the matter?'
+
+'There was a man among us,--I have not said much of the individual
+characters of our party, but this man was one of the least esteemed, or
+rather liked; there was not much esteem of any kind at Little Fishing.
+Little was known about him; although the youngest man in the camp, he
+was a mooning, brooding creature, with brown hair and eyes and a
+melancholy face. He wasn't hearty and whole-souled, and yet he wasn't an
+out-and-out rascal; he wasn't a leader, and yet he wasn't follower
+either. He wouldn't be; he was like a third horse, always. There was no
+goodness about him; don't go to fancying that that was the reason the
+men did not like him, he was as bad as they were, every inch! He never
+shirked his work, and they couldn't get a handle on him anywhere; but he
+was just--unpopular. The why and the wherefore are of no consequence
+now. Well, do you know what was the suspicion that hovered over the
+camp? It was this: our Lady loved that man!
+
+'It took three months for all to see it, and yet never a word was
+spoken. All saw, all heard; but they might have been blind and deaf for
+any sign they gave. And the Lady drooped more and more.
+
+'September came, the fifteenth; the Lady lay on her couch, pale and
+thin; the door was open and a bell stood beside her, but there was no
+line of pickets whispering tidings of her state to an anxious group
+outside. The turf in the three streets had grown yellow for want of
+water, the flowers in the little gardens had drooped and died, the
+fountain was choked with weeds, and the interiors of the houses were all
+untidy. It was Sunday, and near the hour for service; but the men
+lounged about, dingy and unwashed.
+
+'"A'n't you going to church?" said Salem, stopping at the door of one of
+the houses; he was dressed in his best, with a flower in his
+button-hole.
+
+'"See him now! See the fool," said Black Andy. 'He's going to church, he
+is! And where's the minister, Salem? Answer me that!'
+
+'Why,--in the church, I suppose,' replied Salem, vacantly.
+
+'"No, she a'n't; not she! She's at home, a-weeping, and a-wailing, and
+a-ger-nashing her teeth," replied Andy with bitter scorn.
+
+'"What for?" said Salem.
+
+'"What for? Why, that's the joke! Hear him, boys; he wants to know what
+for!"
+
+'The loungers laughed,--a loud, reckless laugh.
+
+'"Well, I'm going anyway," said Salem, looking wonderingly from one to
+the other; he passed on and entered the church.
+
+'"I say, boys, let's have a high old time," cried Andy savagely. "Let's
+go back to the old way and have a jolly Sunday. Let's have out the jugs
+and the cards and be free again!"
+
+'The men hesitated; ten months and more of law and order held them back.
+
+'"What are you afraid of?" said Andy. "Not of a canting hypocrite, I
+hope. She's fooled us long enough, I say. Come on!" He brought out a
+table and stools, and produced the long-unused cards and a jug of
+whiskey. 'Strike up, Jack,' he cried; give us old Fiery-Eyes.'
+
+'The Nightingale hesitated. Fiery-Eyes was a rollicking drinking song;
+but Andy put the glass to his lips and his scruples vanished in the
+tempting aroma. He began at the top of his voice, partners were chosen,
+and, trembling with excitement and impatience, like prisoners
+unexpectedly set free, the men gathered around, and made their bets.
+
+'"What born fools we've been," said Black Andy, laying down a card.
+
+'"Yes," replied the Flying Dutchman, "porn fools!" And he followed suit.
+
+'But a thin white hand came down on the bits of colored pasteboard. It
+was our Lady. With her hair disordered, and the spots of fever in her
+cheeks, she stood among us again: but not as of old. Angry eyes
+confronted her, and Andy wrenched the cards from her grasp. "No, my
+Lady," he said, sternly; "never again!"
+
+'The Lady, gazed from one face to the next, and so all around the
+circle; all were dark and sullen. Then she bowed her head upon her hands
+and wept aloud.
+
+'There was a sudden shrinking away on all sides, the players rose, the
+cards were dropped. But the Lady glided away, weeping as she went; she
+entered the church door and the men could see her taking her accustomed
+place on the platform. One by one they followed; Black Andy lingered
+till the last, but he came. The service began, and went on falteringly,
+without spirit, with palpable fears of a total breaking down which never
+quite came; the Nightingale sang almost alone, and made sad work with
+the words; Salem joined in confidently, but did not improve the sense of
+the hymn. The Lady was silent. But when the time for the sermon came she
+rose and her voice burst forth.
+
+'"Men, brothers, what have I done? A change has come over the town, a
+change has come over your hearts. You shun me! What have I done?"
+
+'There was a grim silence; then the Doctor rose in his place and
+answered,--
+
+'"Only this, madam. You have shown yourself to be a woman."
+
+'"And what did you think me?"
+
+'"A saint."
+
+'"God forbid!" said the Lady, earnestly. "I never thought myself one."
+
+'"I know that well. But you were a saint to us; hence your influence. It
+is gone."
+
+'"Is it all gone?" asked the Lady, sadly.
+
+'"Yes. Do not deceive yourself; we have never been one whit better save
+through our love for you. We held you as something high above ourselves;
+we were content to worship you."
+
+'"O no, not me!" said the Lady, shuddering.
+
+'"Yes, you, you alone! But--our idol came down among us and showed
+herself to be but common flesh and blood! What wonder that we stand
+aghast? What wonder that our hearts are bitter? What wonder (worse than
+all!) that when the awe has quite vanished, there is strife for the
+beautiful image fallen from its niche?"
+
+'The Doctor ceased, and turned away. The Lady stretched out her hands
+towards the others; her face was deadly pale, and there was a bewildered
+expression in her eyes.
+
+'"O, ye for whom I have prayed, for whom I have struggled to obtain a
+blessing,--ye whom I have loved so,--do ye desert me thus?" she cried.
+
+'"You have deserted us," answered a voice.
+
+'"I have not."
+
+'"You have," cried Black Andy, pushing to the front. 'You love that
+Mitchell! Deny it if you dare!'
+
+'There was an irrepressible murmur, then a sudden hush. The angry
+suspicion, the numbing certainty had found voice at last; the secret was
+out. All eyes, which had at first closed with the shock, were now fixed
+upon the solitary woman before them; they burned like coals.
+
+'"Do I?" murmured the Lady, with a strange questioning look that turned
+from face to face,--"do I?--Great God! I do." She sank upon her knees
+and buried her face in her trembling hands. "The truth has come to me at
+last,--I do!"
+
+'Her voice was a mere whisper, but every ear heard it, and every eye saw
+the crimson rise to the forehead and redden the white throat.
+
+'For a moment there was silence, broken only by the hard breathing of
+the men. Then the Doctor spoke.
+
+'"Go out and bring him in," he cried. "Bring in this Mitchell! It seems
+he has other things to do,--the blockhead!"
+
+'Two of the men hurried out.
+
+'"He shall not have her," shouted Black Andy. "My knife shall see to
+that!" And he pressed close to the platform. A great tumult arose, men
+talked angrily and clinched their fists, voices rose and fell together.
+"He shall not have her,--Mitchell! Mitchell!"
+
+'"The truth is, each one of you wants her himself," said the Doctor.
+
+'There was a sudden silence, but every man eyed his neighbor jealously.
+Black Andy stood in front, knife in hand, and kept guard. The Lady had
+not moved; she was kneeling with her face buried in her hands.
+
+'"I wish to speak to her," said the Doctor, advancing.
+
+'"You shall not," cried Andy, fiercely interposing.
+
+'"You fool! I love her this moment ten thousand times more than you do.
+But do you suppose I would so much as touch a woman who loved another
+man?"
+
+'The knife dropped; the Doctor passed on and took his place on the
+platform by the Lady's side. The tumult began again, for Mitchell was
+seen coming in the door between his two keepers.
+
+'"Mitchell! Mitchell!" rang angrily through the church.
+
+'"Look, woman!" said the Doctor, bending over the kneeling figure at his
+side. She raised her head and saw the wolfish faces below.
+
+'"They have had ten months of your religion," he said.
+
+'It was his revenge. Bitter, indeed; but he loved her.
+
+'In the mean time the man Mitchell was hauled and pushed and tossed
+forward to the platform by rough hands that longed to throttle him on
+the way. At last, angry himself, but full of wonder, he confronted them,
+this crowd of comrades suddenly turned madmen! "What does this mean?" he
+asked.
+
+'"Mean! mean!" shouted the men; "a likely story! He asks what this
+means!" And they laughed boisterously.
+
+'The Doctor advanced. 'You see this woman,' he said.
+
+'"I see our Lady."
+
+'"Our Lady no longer; only a woman like any other,--weak and fickle.
+Take her,--but begone."
+
+'"Take her!" repeated Mitchell, bewildered.--"take our Lady! And where?"
+
+'"Fool! Liar! Blockhead!" shouted the crowd below.
+
+'"The truth is simply this, Mitchell," continued the Doctor, quietly.
+"We herewith give you up our Lady,--ours no longer; for she has just
+confessed, openly confessed, that she loves you."
+
+'Mitchell started back. "Loves me!"
+
+'"Yes."
+
+'Black Andy felt the blade of his knife. "He'll never have her alive,"
+he muttered.
+
+'"But," said Mitchell, bluntly confronting the Doctor, "I don't want
+her."
+
+'"You don't want her?"
+
+'"I don't love her."
+
+'"You don't love her?"
+
+'"Not in the least," he replied, growing angry, perhaps at himself.
+"What is she to me? Nothing. A very good missionary, no doubt; but _I_
+don't fancy woman-preachers. You may remember that _I_ never gave in to
+her influence; _I_ was never under her thumb. _I_ was the only man in
+Little Fishing who cared nothing for her!"
+
+'And that is the secret of _her_ liking,' murmured the Doctor. 'O woman!
+woman! the same the world over!'
+
+'In the mean time the crowd had stood stupefied.
+
+'"He does not love her!" they said to each other; "he does not want
+her!"
+
+'Andy's black eyes gleamed with joy; he swung himself up on to the
+platform. Mitchell stood there with face dark and disturbed, but he did
+not flinch. Whatever his faults, he was no hypocrite. 'I must leave this
+to-night,' he said to himself, and turned to go. But quick as a flash
+our Lady sprang from her knees and threw herself at his feet. 'You are
+going,' she cried. 'I heard what you said,--you do not love me! But take
+me with you! Let me be your servant--your slave--anything--anything, so
+that I am not parted from you, my lord and master, my only, only love!'
+
+'She clasped his ankles with her thin, white hands, and laid her face on
+his dusty shoes.
+
+'The whole audience stood dumb before this manifestation of a great
+love. Enraged, bitter, jealous as was each heart, there was not a man
+but would at that moment have sacrificed his own love that she might be
+blessed. Even Mitchell, in one of those rare spirit-flashes when the
+soul is shown bare in the lightning, asked himself, 'Can I not love her?
+But the soul answered, 'No.' He stooped, unclasped the clinging hands,
+and turned resolutely away.'
+
+'"You are a fool," said the Doctor. 'No other woman will ever love you
+as she does.'
+
+'"I know it," replied Mitchell.
+
+'He stepped down from the platform and crossed the church, the silent
+crowd making a way for him as he passed along; he went out in the
+sunshine, through the village, down towards the beach,--they saw him no
+more.
+
+'The Lady had fainted. The men bore her back to the lodge and tended her
+with gentle care one week,--two weeks,--three weeks. Then she died.
+
+'They were all around her; she smiled upon them all, and called them all
+by name, bidding them farewell. 'Forgive me,' she whispered to the
+Doctor. The Nightingale sang a hymn, sang as he had never sung before.
+Black Andy knelt at her feet. For some minutes she lay scarcely
+breathing; then suddenly she opened her fading eyes. 'Friends,' she
+murmured, 'I am well punished. I thought myself holy,--I held myself
+above my kind,--but God has shown me I am the weakest of them all.'
+
+'The next moment she was gone.
+
+'The men buried her with tender hands. Then in a kind of blind fury
+against Fate, they tore down her empty lodge and destroyed its every
+fragment; in their grim determination they even smoothed over the ground
+and planted shrubs and bushes, so that the very location might be lost.
+But they did not stay to see the change. In a month the camp broke up of
+itself, the town was abandoned, and the island deserted for good and
+all; I doubt whether any of the men ever came back or even stopped when
+passing by. Probably I am the only one. Thirty years ago,--thirty years
+ago!'
+
+'That Mitchell was a great fool,' I said, after a long pause. 'The
+Doctor was worth twenty of him; for that matter, so was Black Andy. I
+only hope the fellow was well punished for his stupidity.'
+
+'He was.'
+
+'O, you kept track of him, did you?'
+
+'Yes. He went back into the world, and the woman he loved repulsed him a
+second time, and with even more scorn than before.'
+
+'Served him right.'
+
+'Perhaps so; but after all, what could he do? Love is not made to order.
+He loved one, not the other; that was his crime. Yet,--so strange a
+creature is man,--he came back after thirty years, just to see our
+Lady's grave.'
+
+'What! Are you--'
+
+'I am Mitchell,--Reuben Mitchell.'
+
+
+
+
+MACARIUS THE MONK.
+
+BY JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
+
+
+    In the old days, while yet the church was young,
+    And men believed that praise of God was sung
+    In curbing self as well as singing psalms,
+    There lived a monk, Macarius by name,
+    A holy man, to whom the faithful came
+    With hungry hearts to hear the wonderous Word.
+    In sight of gushing springs and sheltering palms,
+    He lived upon the desert: from the marsh
+    He drank the brackish water, and his food
+    Was dates and roots,--and all his rule was harsh,
+    For pampered flesh in those days warred with good,
+
+    From those who came in scores a few there were
+    Who feared the devil more than fast and prayer,
+    And these remained and took the hermit's vow.
+    A dozen saints there grew to be; and now
+    Macarius, happy, lived in larger care.
+    He taught his brethren all the lore he knew,
+    And as they learned, his pious rigors grew.
+    His whole intent was on the spirit's goal:
+    He taught them silence--words disturb the soul;
+    He warned of joys, and bade them pray for sorrow,
+    And be prepared to-day for death to-morrow;
+    To know that human life alone was given
+    To test the souls of those who merit heaven;
+    He bade the twelve in all things be as brothers,
+    And die to self, to live and work for others.
+    "For so," he said, "we save our love and labors,
+    And each one gives his own and takes his neighbor's."
+
+    Thus long he taught, and while they silent heard,
+    He prayed for fruitful soil to hold the word.
+
+    One day, beside the marsh they labored long,--
+    For worldly work makes sweeter sacred song,--
+    And when the cruel sun made hot the sand,
+    And Afric's gnats the sweltering face and hand
+    Tormenting stung, a passing traveller stood
+    And watched the workers by the reeking flood.
+    Macarius, nigh, with heat and toil was faint;
+    The traveller saw, and to the suffering saint
+    A bunch of luscious grapes in pity threw.
+    Most sweet and fresh and fair they were to view,
+    A generous cluster, bursting-rich with wine.
+    Macarius longed to taste. "The fruit is mine,"
+    He said, and sighed; "but I, who daily teach,
+    Feel now the bond to practice as I preach."
+    He gave the cluster to the nearest one,
+    And with his heavy toil went patient on.
+
+    As one athirst will greet a flowing brim,
+    The tempting fruit made moist the mouth of him
+    Who took the gift; but in the yearning eye
+    Rose brighter light: to one whose lip was dry
+    He gave the grapes, and bent him to his spade.
+    And he who took, unknown to any other,
+    The sweet refreshment handed to a brother.
+    And so, from each to each, till round was made
+    The circuit wholly--when the grapes at last,
+    Untouched and tempting, to Macarius passed.
+
+    "Now God be thanked!" he cried, and ceased to toil;
+    "The seed was good, but better was the soil.
+    My brothers, join with me to bless the day."
+    But, ere they knelt, he threw the grapes away.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Solomon, by Constance Fenimore Woolson
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