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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/38998-8.txt b/38998-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..83fe59a --- /dev/null +++ b/38998-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4487 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON *** + +***** This file should be named 38998-8.txt or 38998-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/9/9/38998/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="cb">ODESSA, ONTARIO: JAMES NEISH & 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,—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.</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——,' 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,—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——. 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,—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.—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,—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,—'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,—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,—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,—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,—yes,—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,—'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,—'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,—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——, 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——, 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,—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,—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.</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—' 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,—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:—</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——, 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,—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,—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—'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,—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—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—I was about to say—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,—always the same.'</p> + +<p>'And Gustav?'</p> + +<p>'Ah, mein Gustav! Lady, <i>he</i> 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.</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,—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,'—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,"—</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </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,"—</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,—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<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,—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—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—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— 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> </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> </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,—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,—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,—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,—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,—'I don't see anything +beautiful in it!—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,—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.—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,—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:—</p> + +<p>'Is your father here?'</p> + +<p>'No; but ma is,' answered the chorus.—'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—' 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,—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,—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),—'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.—'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.—Mrs.—'</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—'</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,—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.'</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:—</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—</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—</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—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,—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.</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,—a prairie full of water,—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,—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 <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:—</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,—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—"'</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,—</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"> </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—'</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,—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 Bœhmen, 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—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.</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—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—'</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,—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,—at least, I mean +until the thousand years of joy begin,—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,—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.</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,—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,—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,'—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,—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—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—'</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,—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,—until <i>she</i> came.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! the she!'</p> + +<p>'Yes, the Lady,—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,—'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,—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,—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,—'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,—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,—'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,—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—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—'</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,—but I +thought perhaps—' 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,—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,—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,—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.'</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,—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 <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,—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,—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—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,—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,—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,—</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—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,—ye whom I have loved so,—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,—"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!"<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,—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,—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,—weak and fickle. +Take her,—but begone."</p> + +<p>'"Take her!" repeated Mitchell, bewildered.—"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,—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,—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!'<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,—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,—two weeks,—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,—I held myself +above my kind,—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,—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,—so strange a +creature is man,—he came back after thirty years, just to see our +Lady's grave.'</p> + +<p>'What! Are you—'</p> + +<p>'I am Mitchell,—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,—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"> </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—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"> </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"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">One day, beside the marsh they labored long,—</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span style="margin-left: 0em;">For worldly work makes sweeter sacred song,—</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"> </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—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"> </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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON *** + +***** This file should be named 38998-h.htm or 38998-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/9/9/38998/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOLOMON *** + +***** This file should be named 38998.txt or 38998.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/9/9/38998/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, National Library of Canada and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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