I've Been Thinking Part 26

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

There are spots in life, like bright days in the year, when all above, around, and beneath, is so full of beauty, that the spirit bathes in the luxurious scene almost to weariness.

Such a spot to Sam was the day of his return to his native village. The cordial welcome of the good old Commodore, testifying his hearty approbation of his gallant conduct by a commission that at once established his independence; the warm embrace of friends who had grown up with him from boyhood, and who exulted in his enviable prosperity; the respectful consideration that was meted out to him on all sides; and above all, the flow of ardent and almost overpowering affection that met him in that home, where parents and sisters poured out into his own glowing bosom the bursting fulness of their hearts--affection, respect, honor, and independence, all in one united band, waiting upon him, and doing all that in them lay, to make this hour of his life bright and happy.

The meeting between Sam and the family of Major (now General) Morris, was all that he could have asked. His old and first friend, the General, was at a distant part of the country, engaged in active service; but Lady Morris greeted him with the warmth of a mother, and Susan, that once retiring and bashful little girl--a glance of whose eye filled the heart of the little sailor-boy with rapture, who had refused bright offers, and turned away from many an ardent lover--met our hero with a manner so cordial, and with all the friends.h.i.+p of her heart unmasked, that he could doubt no longer of the pure delight that awaited him.

Peter was almost beside himself with joy, and kept his crutches going from morning till night, cutting off immense slices from his bundle of "pig-tail," and stowing them away two at a time; talking to every one he met, telling most incredible stories, and sometimes, when he thought he could do it without being heard huzzaing, as though to let off superfluous steam.

The Commodore, however, before the close of the day, damped his ardor for a few moments, by bringing a serious charge against his favorite.

'It is all well, Peter. To be sure, Captain Sam has shown himself a man, but what do you think about his letting prisoners slip out of his hands in that way?'

'In what way, your honor?'

'By letting them go, and giving them one of the s.h.i.+p's best boats; and finding them with compa.s.s and stores, and every thing so that they might put off to sea, and hunt up their squadron--that looks too much like comforting the enemy, Peter.'

'Pardon me, your honor, if I can't agree with your honor this time. Captain Sam had good warrant for what he did.'

'Good warrant, Peter--from whom?'

'I heered our minister--G.o.d bless him--on the last Sabbath, and your honor must have heered him too, say--and he took it from the good old Book, your honor--"Love your inimies, do good to them that hate you"--and more of the same kind.'

'But, Peter, you don't mean that we should deal with these men, whom you have been so long wis.h.i.+ng that the winds would blow high and dry, according to the good Book, do you?'

Peter had to turn his quid over, and chew a little on it, for he remembered having indulged some rather ungenerous feelings--especially towards his blockading friends.

'It is hard, I allow, as your honor very well knows, to make a man's conscience always jibe right when encountering an inimy to one's self, or thinking of one that is dear to us that may be like to git into their clutches; but when a man can catch a chance to show a little Christian spirit towards them that seek his hurt, whether it be inimies to one's country, or inimies to one's self, it will be better, as I take it, in the long run, your honor, and at the last reckoning, that we should do so.'

'Well, well, Peter, it is getting late, and you must be pretty well tired to-day, you had better turn in.'

'Many thanks to your honor, and a long life.'

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

Time is not only a destroyer; he is a healer too. Sorrow and joy attend his flight; and each in turn commands the pa.s.sing hour. The family of Mr. Rutherford had laid aside the badges of mourning which, in token of respect for the memory of one they loved, they had put on when William Andrews died. The scene at his bedside had been ratified in secret, and Henry Tracy felt every day more and more satisfied with the one he had chosen. There was some little stir, indeed, when it was known abroad, and some even hinted the idea that he had stooped a little in taking one situated as Hettie had been; but none who really knew her ever thought so. She was a bright star, dimmed awhile by clouds, and now to s.h.i.+ne in her true, simple l.u.s.tre; her husband's heart, her husband's home, and the circle over which his care rested, were now to feel her sweet and womanly influence.

The pressure of trouble had done its bidden work upon the views and habits of Mr. Rutherford; and then, by the same kind hand which brought it, was it taken off. The recovery of his deed at once placed him in possession of wealth; the immense value of the tract of timber was daily becoming more evident, and he was in a few months enabled to commence the joyful duty of liquidating the claim upon his homestead. He had resolved, in time, to rebuild upon the ruins of his former house; but prudence was his watchword now, and until every cent of the claim was cancelled, he determined to remain in his present situation. He was, however, for a few months occupying the beautiful mansion of Commodore Trysail, at the special request of the latter, who was about to leave for the south, where he and his lady expected to remain some time.

The pretty parsonage, which has been so long waiting for an occupant, is at last full of life and bustle. The windows have been opened for some days, and young female forms are seen moving about in all directions through the house. Curtains are putting up and carpets putting down, bedsteads are coming together, and large flat beds are lying about in readiness to be put upon them; piles of chairs, tied together two and two, are waiting to be released; and crates, boxes, and baskets, all well filled, are being broken open and pulled to pieces, while from them be borne off by nimble hands and feet all sorts of every thing, to be arranged according to their different uses.

In the mean time there is a great stir at Mr. Rutherford's. Old ladies and young ones have been much together there of late; vast quant.i.ties of needles and pins and silk and thread have been in requisition; and then the old family recipe-book has been for days lying on the large kitchen table, with heaps of flour and b.u.t.ter alongside of it, and busy hands have been violently engaged beating insides of eggs, and taking out the insides of raisins, and stewing things together in all sorts of ways; while at times a most savory smell would escape to the upper stories, enough to set all the old women and young children running down stairs.

At length the meaning of all this bustle is unfolded. A wedding day has come. Henry Tracy has been putting his pretty cottage in readiness to receive the lovely girl, who has consented to be its mistress; and Hettie, with the aid of her companions, and under the care of Mrs. Rutherford, has been making preparations for the hour when she yields herself in holy wedlock to the man she loves.

It has been a busy day with the family of Mr. Rutherford from early dawn until near its close; and now, as evening approaches, lights are seen glistening from every window in the large building, and through the wide hall, flitting like fairies, young ladies are pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing, and going up and down with light and joyous steps, as though pleasure had come down and shed her quickening charm upon them all. Carriages of various kinds are landing groups of young and old, and then driving off with speed. Attendants at the door in neat array, are leading the new comers to the various rooms a.s.signed for their reception. For a while confusion seems to reign; then all subsides to quiet. The joyous laugh and the lively call are hushed, and within the s.p.a.cious parlor have all a.s.sembled who are to be the witnesses of the solemn rite. Dazzling with lights, scattered profusely round, and trimmed with evergreens and early flowers, it seems a fairy bower; while, circling the room the well-dressed guests, with staid and even solemn faces, are whispering to each other, or eyeing with curious gaze the beautiful festoons that grace the windows or sweep across the lofty ceiling.

It is the wedding day of the young pastor and his gentle bride, and Henry Tracy enters the room, accompanied by his three bridesmen, Captain Oak.u.m, and James and Edward Montjoy. Soon after Hettie appears led by Mr. Rutherford, who is to act as her father, and give away the bride. She is simply dressed without ornament of any kind, but the long white veil which falls in light and graceful folds from her head, and partly hides her dark luxuriant hair. Her bridesmaids follow, Susan Morris, and the sisters of the young Captain, and of James and Edward Montjoy.

'Before I present to you,' said Mr. Rutherford, addressing Mr. Tracy, 'this chief earthly treasure'--and he turned his eyes for a moment to the blus.h.i.+ng girl who was leaning on his arm--'I must beg your acceptance of this paper, you will find when you look upon it, that you are not taking to your home a portionless bride. She is as dear to the hearts of Mrs. Rutherford and myself as if she were our own child, and we have given to her the dowry of a daughter of our own. You chose her as a poor portionless girl, and would have loved her as tenderly had she continued so; but we all know that this is an uncertain world, and it is as well to be prepared for its troubles. May G.o.d bless you both!'

One wedding, it is said, leads to another. Whether this is so or not, I cannot say, but the signs are ominous; for James Montjoy and Mary Oak.u.m take long walks by moonlight, and Sam spends every evening at General Morris's, and other tokens tell plainly what things are coming to.

But the long road which I and my readers have travelled together, must here end: are you not glad of it?

J. OGDEN AND CO. LIMITED, PRINTERS. GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C.

THE LILY SERIES.

Uniform with this Volume.

The design of this Series is to include no books except such as are peculiarly adapted by their high tone, pure taste, and thorough principle to be read by those persons, young and old, who look upon books as upon their friends--only worthy to be received into the Family Circle for their good qualities and excellent characters. In view of this design, no author whose name is not a guarantee of the real worth and purity of his or her work, or whose book has not been subjected to a rigid examination, will be admitted into the "Lily Series."

1 Leslie Goldthwaite. Whitney. 2 The Gayworthys. Whitney. 3 Faith Gartney's Girlhood. Whitney. 4 The Gates Ajar. Phelps. 5 Little Women. Alcott. 6 Good Wives. Alcott. 7 Alone. Harland. 8 I've been Thinking. A. S. Roe. 9 Ida May. Langdon. 10 The Lamplighter. c.u.mming. 11 Stepping Heavenward. Prentiss. 12 Gypsy Breynton. Phelps. 13 Aunt Jane's Hero. Prentiss. 14 Wide, Wide World. Wetherell. 15 Queechy. Wetherell. 16 Looking Round. A. S. Roe. 17 Fabrics: A Story of To-day. 18 Our Village: Tales. Mitford. 19 The Winter Fire. Porter. 20 Flower of the Family. Prentiss. 21 Mercy Gliddon's Work. Phelps. 22 Patience Strong's Outings. Whitney. 23 Something to Do. Alcott. 24 Gertrude's Trial. Jefferis. 25 The Hidden Path. Harland. 26 Uncle Tom's Cabin. Stowe. 27 Fireside & Camp Stories. Alcott. 28 The Shady Side. A Pastor's Wife. 29 The Sunny Side. Trusta. 30 What Katy Did. Coolidge. 31 Fern Leaves. f.a.n.n.y Fern. 32 Shadows and Sunbeams. f.a.n.n.y Fern. 33 What Katy did at School. Coolidge. 34 s.h.i.+loh. Jay. 35 Pressing Heavenward. Prentiss. 36 Gypsy's Sowing & Reaping. Phelps. 37 Gypsy's Cousin Joy. Phelps. 38 Gypsy at Golden Crescent. Phelps. 39 Moral Tales. Edgeworth. 40 Popular Tales. Edgeworth. 41 Prince of House of David. Ingraham. 42 Anna Lee. Arthur. 43 The Throne of David. Ingraham. 44 The Pillar of Fire. Ingraham. 45 Prudence Palfrey. Aldrich. 46 Peep at Number Five. Trusta. 47 Marjorie's Quest. Gould. 48 Our Village: Country Pictures. 49 Woman our Angel. A. S. Roe. 50 How Marjory Helped. Carroll. 51 Mabel Vaughan. c.u.mming. 52 Melbourne House. Wetherell. 53 Father Clement. Kennedy. 54 Dunallan. Kennedy. 55 From Jest to Earnest. E. P. Roe. 56 Jessamine. Harland. 57 Miss Gilbert's Career. Holland. 58 The Old Helmet. Wetherell. 59 Forging their Own Chains. Cornwall. 60 Daisy. Wetherell. 61 Our Helen. May. 62 That La.s.s o'Lowrie's. Burnett. 63 The Years that are Told. Porter. 64 Near to Nature's Heart. E. P. Roe. 65 Esther Douglas. Baskin. 66 Knight of 19th Century. E. P. Roe. 67 Released. Baskin. 68 Quinneba.s.set Girls. Porter. 69 Helen. Edgeworth. 70 The Fairchild Family. Sherwood. 71 Freston Tower. Cobbold. 72 G.o.dwyn's Ordeal. Spender. 73 Madeleine. 74 Onward to the Heights of Life. 75 Perry Harrison's Mistake. "Pansy." 76 Carl Krinken. Wetherell. 77 Without a Home. E. P. Roe. 78 Her Wedding Day. Harland. 79 His Sombre Rivals. E. P. Roe. 80 Odd or Even. Whitney. 81 Julamerk. Webb. 82 Martyrs of Carthage. Webb. 83 The Nun. 84 The Basket of Flowers. 85 Autobiography of a 5 Note. 86 Pilgrims of New England. Webb. 87 Only a Dandelion. Prentiss. 88 Follow Me. Prentiss. 89 Nidworth. Prentiss. 90 Nellie of Truro. 91 An Original Belle. E. P. Roe. 92 Barriers Burned Away. E. P. Roe. 93 Opening of a Chestnut Burr. E. P. Roe. 94 What Can She Do? E. P. Roe. 95 A Day of Fate. E. P. Roe. 96 A Face Illumined. E. P. Roe. 97 He Fell in Love with his Wife. 98 Driven Back to Eden. E. P. Roe. 99 What Katy Did Next. Coolidge. 100 Christine's Crook. Hamer. 101 Ben-Hur. Wallace. 102 Four Girls at Chautauqua. "Pansy." 103 The Chautauqua Girls at Home. E. P. Roe. 104 Christie's Christmas. "Pansy." 105 True to the Best. Price. 106 Drone's Honey. May. 107 An Endless Chain. "Pansy." 108 Ruth Erskine's Crosses. "Pansy." 109 Links in Rebecca's Life. "Pansy." 110 Mrs. Solomon Smith Looking on. 111 The Earth Trembled. E. P. Roe. 112 The Gates Between. Phelps. 113 Found, yet Lost. E. P. Roe. 114 Three People. "Pansy." 115 Ester Ried. "Pansy." 116 Ester Ried yet Speaking. "Pansy." 117 Julia Ried. "Pansy." 118 The Fair G.o.d. Wallace. 119 Sense and Sensibility. Austen. 120 Pride and Prejudice. Austen. 121 Emma. Austen. 124 Honoured in the Breach. 125 An Unexpected Result. E. P. Roe. 126 Naomi. Webb. 127 Beulah. Wilson.