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"All I know, I can tell perty quick," said Troffater, and cooked his quid, and spit through his teeth. "What do you know, Tilly?" asked Fabens.
"I know an awful cuss hangs over the feller," said Troffater.
"How you talk! Curse! what do you mean?" asked Fabens, with emotion, and a searching glance of his large and loving eye: "George Ludlow under a _curse_?"
"Yis, under a cuss, an' may it please your honor," said Troffater.
"Who p.r.o.nounced it?" asked Fabens.
"Scriptur!" said Troffater, drawing down his monkey brows over his little, black-and-blue eyes, and looking wise as a magistrate.
"Scriptur pernounced the cuss."
"The Scripture!" exclaimed Fabens. "The Scripture p.r.o.nounced a curse!
What do you mean? What does the Scripture say to condemn George Ludlow?"
"A good 'eal, I guess," said Troffater. "The Scripture says--'_Woe_ unto him that all men speak well of;' and George Ludlow is the man!"
"O, you will be Tilly Troffater, as long as you live!" said Fabens.
"Why can you not be serious once in a while? You are getting to be an old man, and such levity shocks one's reverence for your gray hairs.
But if that is all you know, I am sure you never spoke ill of the young man."
"Not I, Fabens, not I," said Troffater, sobering down at this mild rebuke. "He's a likely feller. _He'll_ dew wal enough, I'll warrant.
Tell Fan, for me, if she gits George Ludlow, _her_ fortin will be _fixed_. A good many young bucks, that feels above him, might thank the powers, if they knowed as much as he, and was half as likely. Wish I had ollers did as wal as George, and my mind was peaceful as his'n.
But I must go hum. I calkilate to start on a journey to-morror, for the Holland Purchase, and I've a little fixin' to dew."
So they separated, and Fabens went home, musing in his heart, and inquiring what fresh remorse could have seized on Troffater's conscience, and what might be the object of his journey.
Under the joint management of Fabens and George Ludlow, for a period of good prices and great prosperity, the farm yielded a return of a portion of the sum lost by Fairbanks, and a year or so was antic.i.p.ated as time sufficient to retrieve the entire misfortune, if misfortune it might really now be called; and place the family and their young friend in very desirable circ.u.mstances. The smaller farm yielded an extra increase for receiving the care and culture formerly bestowed on the fields that were sold; the seasons seemed more genial; the rains more timely, and the sun more liberal in his bland, warm beams, than for years gone by. The beneficence of G.o.d was pictured out on all the glowing sky; blooming in all the fields and woods, and sung by the birds and breezes. Lessons of grief, quite as much as those of joy, had taught them to discover the signs of that beneficence; to rejoice in all its light, and repose in its blissful promise.
Mr. and Mrs. Fabens had arrived at a period of life when old age was approaching, yet most tardy in its advances; and their relation as parents was most interesting; and their convictions and sentiments, as trusting Christians, gave daily refreshment to their souls.
As one good consequence of the late trial, our excellent farmer considered his cure of a love of praise, which had grown insensibly upon him, and commenced already to make him unhappy, by warping his independence, and making him almost a slave to the vain opinions of men. As another effect in which he discovered a blessing, it weakened his worldly cares, and taught him to set his affections on things above.
There was a time of general happiness in Summerfield. Some of the old people had pa.s.sed away; among whom Mr. Flaxman and old Mr. and Mrs.
Waldron were much lamented. Many worthy sons were left behind; and several who had been prodigals were now reformed, to render the old neighborhood pleasant and happy.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were still alive, and possessed a fine property, and rejoiced in the society of several dutiful children. Colwell and his wife were still alive and happy. The t.e.e.zles had not succeeded greatly in worldly affairs; but they had a home and a good family, and none saw pleasanter days. Uncle Walter and Aunt Huldah lived in a ripe old age; and he loved a hunt and a fine story, and she loved stubbing and scouring still; and could boast the whitest linen, the whitest floor, and clearest maple sugar. And these had all learnt wisdom since the feast at Aunt Polly Waldron's, and were more refined in thought and speech.
Tilly Troffater carried still about him, as he did his scars, a few of his early habits and characteristics; as for instance, his love of levity slightly corrected; his love of indolence, and an occasional gla.s.s of whisky; his swaggering loquacity, a little improved; and once in a while the mischief of the busybody. But all regarded him, on the whole, as a reformed man, and were quick to give him credit and encouragement, where they could see any change for good; expecting that he would carry a few peculiarities with him to his grave.
George Ludlow was solidly esteemed and affectionately regarded as a son by Mr. and Mrs. Fabens, while f.a.n.n.y responded to his sentiments, and answered his heart with something deeper, and more a principle of her soul, than common pa.s.sional love. He was esteemed by the neighbors as quite a second Fabens; and those few vain youths and maidens who had affected contempt for his humble parentage and life, were now compelled to blush for their heartless folly, and respect him. The week arrived in which George and f.a.n.n.y were to be married, and great preparations were made for the happy bridal day.
XXVIII.
CONCLUSION.
Life in the country has many scenes for pictures. Its customs and festivities, though sometimes rude and homely, are never without their romance. The country courts.h.i.+p may not be conducted by laws laid down in books of etiquette, but it is all the more romantic for its frank simplicity. The city courts.h.i.+p may appear the most genteel in the splendid parlor, with the lover on a sofa displaying his stocks and certificates of wealth to the matron, and through her winning his sweetheart; while the maiden at her piano opens absorbing ears to catch his wooing words; but all must confess the country courts.h.i.+p makes the best picture, with the ruddy maiden in the farm-yard, in her cool sun-bonnet and clean checkered frock; the bloom of the season on her cheeks, and its fragrance in her breath; making music with sweet streams in her milk-pail; while her lover at her elbow, or leaning over the wall, as jocund as a bobolink, tells her of his horses and cows; his wheat-lands and meadow-lands; his berry-fields; his melon-patch, and maple-orchard; his nice little rural home, and his pleasant love of her.
The country wedding also makes a charming picture of one of the happiest scenes under heaven; and it was determined by the Fabenses that f.a.n.n.y's wedding should lack no joy or enjoyment which they had means to give. The season was never more lovely, and the fruits of the garden, orchard, and field were never more abundant. The commodious farm-house had been re-painted, and it looked as well as new; its doors could open to a goodly company, and a goodly company came before three o'clock to make merry with them.
Neighbor Nimblet and his wife were the first of the wedding-guests who entered; and Nancy and her husband entered soon after. Then came Uncle Walter over the fields, a-foot, with his coat on his arm, in his new wide-brimmed hat, long Lon'on-brown vest, with gilt b.u.t.tons and scarlet back; his white wristbands turned up, and white collar turned down; enjoying, in the tidiest way, a clean little quid of Cavendish, and selecting and cooking a story for the feast. And Aunt Huldah came with him in the neatest cap, the nicest dress, and the brightest gold beads that any old lady wore. Then came the t.e.e.zles; then came the Colwells, followed soon by their young people. Then came the Wilsons; then came the widow Flaxman, thinking how sad it would be to sing one of her old nasal songs alone. Then came Mrs. Troffater and Ruth; and they were able to offer no satisfactory excuse for Tilly, who had refused all their pleas to come with them, and taken to the woods without his dog or gun. Many remarked that they never saw Mrs. Troffater appear so well before. She wore a brand-new calico frock, of a rich de laine appearance; she had a nice cap, and handsome amber beads; and though her cap-border was rather too wide, and plaited too thinly for perfect taste, and the young people smiled to see it rise and fall with the wind; she appeared well enough; and no one attended the wedding with a warmer welcome than she. Then came Seneca Waldron and his wife; and soon all the guests were there.
The fathers and mothers were gathered into the white north-room, exchanging glad looks and hearty salutations, as if each had been autumn itself, smiling in great and abundant heart on the scene; and they were discussing the beauty of the day, and the excellence of the season; relating each other's history; and recalling incidents of the olden time, when the country was new, and neighbors were farther apart and more friendly; while the young people, happy as a flock of birds in the sunny days of mate-choosing, and freshly blooming as the landscape--around them, were out on the mown field adjacent to the house, whirling in the sportive ring, bounding in the merry dance, chatting in agreeable groups, or chasing one another on flying feet to exact or administer some little forfeit, or whisper some mirthful word or tale.
Father Lovelight, the travelling Minister, had long been expected on another visit to Summerfield, and he came three or four days in advance of the appointment, to attend the wedding and perform the ceremony.
The time drew near for the company to be called in, and the ceremony to commence, and Mr. and Mrs. Fabens talked to each other of the joy that sat as a guest in their home.
"We feel well for our daughter," said Fabens, "we believe that life to her must be a blessing, and we are glad to meet our friends when we find it in our power, as in our pleasure, to make them so happy."
"Certainly, this is a happy occasion as I ever attended in my life,"
said Father Lovelight; "and I wish my good wife could be here. I know her whole heart would enjoy it. I have attended weddings, where the parties were unequally matched, or unprepared for a union so sacred, and they have given me funeral thoughts. May this joy be prophetic of the future bliss of the young couple. May my offices this afternoon be always a subject of pleasant thoughts."
"There's nothing at all unpleasant in a time like this," said Uncle Walter; "and I tell you what, Fabens, we have had a good many merry times in these parts."
"That we have," answered Fabens, "and I do not recollect any party we have had among us, that did not more than pay the trouble and expense, in the proceeds of joy and love it added to our treasury."
"Uncle Moses and I determined before any of you came, that there shouldn't be any hermits in the settlement; but if we could have our say, all should be neighbors, and have our joys and griefs together, without respect to high or low. We have kept our word pretty well; and, if we have not, like the chipmonks, laid up quite so many nuts in our nests, we have had acorns of pleasure in thousands, laid up all the more comfort, and held our ages better."
"Ay, ay," answered Fabens; "these neighborly loves, these social regards and reunions, have been the life and wealth of our place; and I for one have been more blest than Hezekiah, as I am sure that more than fifteen years have been added to my life."
"Our lives are greener and wider, as well as longer for these things,"
said Uncle Walter. "Men are like corn, growing all to stalk, and looking sallow, and scrawny, when standing alone; but branching out in broad leaves, abundant silks and l.u.s.ty ears, when they grow and wave together."
"Even the young man who came here last night a stranger, Mr. Sumner, I believe he called his name,"--interrupted Mrs. Fabens, glancing out on the green where the young people lingered in merriment:--"even he seems to enjoy it with the rest. I am glad we invited him to stay and refresh himself, and share our happiness all he can. And I see he is already acquainted with several, and often smiles. But he frequently looks serious and absent, as though his mind was away. He may be reminded of his home, and of some good time like this with hearts near and dear."
"A stranger?" asked Mrs. Nimblet, "a stranger! and how could you persuade him to stay where all were strangers to him?"
"We urged him considerably," said Fabens, "and thinking it would rest and refresh him for finis.h.i.+ng his journey, he concluded to tarry and enjoy what he could. See, there he stands talking with Jeanie Waldron, near the bee-house on the left,--the girl dressed in white with a flower in her hair."
"Near the girl with a flower? O I see him, I see him," cried Mrs.
Nimblet. "And I," cried another, "and I" another.
"Well, he's a real nice-looking fellow, I vow he is, if that's he with Jeanie," said Mrs. Wilson.
"I tell you what, he looks like a manly major," added Uncle Walter.
"I call him handsome," said Mrs. Fabens, "and I know he must be a good and n.o.ble-gifted being; he looks it all from his lovely eyes. And if he is made happy among strangers, surely we have done something for a wayfarer, and ought to take pleasure from the deed."
"A deed like that will answer very well in lieu of what the Squire was going to do for a young man in 'Fabens Academy,' and for a poor homeless heart in 'Fabens Asylum,' when he got rich in the firm of 'Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens!'" said Uncle Walter with a roguish leer.
"None of your nonsense now, Uncle Walter!" answered Fabens with a blus.h.i.+ng smile.
"I never had a stranger so win upon my heart before," said Mrs. Fabens.
"He seems a stranger, and not a stranger, in the same look. I could kiss him and call him my son, I could, I feel so towards him!--O there is one wish that keeps rising in my heart. I have tried to repress it, for it cannot be right to harbor it so long; but it will rush before me, and I sigh for one more blessing. If Clinton could be here, our dear lost Clinton! Last night I dreamed he came back and made us all so happy; and as he sat down to a feast we made for him, a company of joys like little smiling cherubs waited on the table, and gave him the best of every dainty and treat. And telling the dream to f.a.n.n.y this morning, the tears filled her eyes, and she said, 'If we could have him here, it would be all the heaven we could ask below. What would I not give,' said she, 'to have my brother at my wedding!'--It was such a joyful dream, and it was so hard to wake up and find it was nothing but a dream, and Clinton was not here!"
"I cannot think of the poor boy for a moment," said Fabens, "without grief for his loss and regret for the affliction. But we cannot have everything as we like it now. We must be resigned, and wait for heaven to bring the perfect bliss. G.o.d afflicts in mercy; I am sure we shall meet him in heaven, and that will be greater than any blessing earth can give. You would have wors.h.i.+pped an Indian, Julia, if he had brought Clinton alive to your arms, on the day of the great search, would you not?"