V1
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THE


FINLAND FAMILY;
OR,


A. TALE OF' THE PAST FOR TEE PRESENT.
13Y
MIRS. SUSAN PEYTON CORNWALL.


NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY Al. W. DODD,
Corner of Spruce Street and City Halil Squaro.


1858.





Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year Wý5'1, by
Al. WV. DODD,
In the Clerk's Offlcb for the, Southern Disirici, of New York.
THOMAS B. SMITH, STEREOTYPER,
2A16 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y.





OVAane


"MEN are but children of a larger growth," says the
poet. The sentiment finds many an illustration in the
public history and social life of mankind in general.
And it is, as yet, far firom  being set at naught by a
general conformity of any people to the example of
the great apostle, who, when he became a man, put
away childish things. Whether this fact indicates,
upon the whole, a culpable departure from the dictates of reason and religion, it is not necessary here
to inquire. It is, at all events, one which must not be
wholly overlooked, in any efforts to improve the character or advance the happiness of rational beings. It
has been kept in view in the preparation of this volume, on a plan of which it will not be amiss to say,
by way of preface, a few words.
The writer's aim has been to illustrate the beauty
and value of practical piety, by an attractive exhibi




iv


P REFACI E.


tion  of its salutary influence amid the daily duties
and cares and common incidents of life. For this
purpose, she has selected an interesting phase of mental habits, which, though combining some of the most
striking points of strongly-marked characters in every
class and station, is very frequently overlooked, as if
it were to be observed only in the past, in the history
of some almost forgotten age, or some inferior generation.  The intelligent reader, therefore, will not be
surprised to find, in the sketches here presented, such
a combination of pure examples and crude specimens
of life and manners, as to the unreflecting may seem
almost inconsistent with the time and place to which
it is ascribed.
It is unquestionable, that even now, as well in the
most refined as in the least cultivated circles, a careful
observer, conversant with the modes of thought current among different classes, may daily detect, in the
vain reliance of many persons upon cherished omens
of good fortune, and their vain resistance to superstitious fears of imaginary ills, a base counterfeit of the
first principle of practical piety, faith in Divine providence. And it is one of the remarkable features of
the present time, that some theories, which lay claim
to a place among principles of science, have an obvi




PE F AC E.


V


ous tendency to carry back the minds of many to confidence, not only in hurtful superstitions, but also in
some of the blasphemous deceits of ancient heathenism; which, in the various forms of necromancy and
witchcraft, were the source of all superstitious signs
or omens that still prevail, in some degree, in Christian lands. Scientific speculation, assuming the name
of philosophy, has impiously pretended even to invade
the recesses of the invisible world, and to give a tangible reality to the fancies of heathen fiction, with its
fabled shades of the departed. It has thus set up, in
a refined materialism, a new form of the strange error,
which has heretofore extensively connected important
events of divine providence, as in a permanent arrangement, with some (f the meanest of visible objects;
such, for instance, as an old horse-shoe, a pin falling
on its point, or an odd egg in the nest of a fowl. And
thus the rash efforts of modern science, in some of its
lower manifestations by unfledged physiologists, to
put itself in the place of faith in the word of God, as
a medium of communication between the visible and
the invisible, are in fact, nothing else than a revival of
the vain struggles of old superstition, in impious and
idle rivalry of revealed truth. The follies of such superstition, therefore, afford a proper basis for an illus




vi                  PREFACE.
tration of the real nature of religious faith, adapted to
the present state of science.
Some readers of this volume may think, that the
influence of true religion, in correcting the errors of
superstition, should be more conspicuous; or that a
more direct effort should have been made to inculcate
the peculiar doctrines of the gospel. So the writer
also thought, at the outset; but was led to believe,
as the narrative proceeded, that such examples of calm
and consistent piety as are exhibited in the conduct
of several of the characters introduced, might prove
more effectual than much moralizing, to lead some
readers to the esteem  and love of true religion, the
essence of which is
TRUST IN GOD.





(Loutntuts


I.-THE PET LAMB,
11.-THE, NEW COMERS,
IJI.-TIE GOOD UNCLE,
IV.-WINTER SCENES,
Y.-THE YOUNG GARDENER,
VJ.-THE EVENING WALK,
VII.-ThE RAPPING,
VIII.----TiiE REPULSE,
I-X.-THE NEW TERROR,
X.-THE REVENGE,
XI.-THE RECOVERY,
XII.-Ti-E PLEASANT RIDE,
XIJI.-SwEET SYMPATHIES,
XLV.-STRANGE THINGS,
XV.-M[ARVELS OF SCIENCE,
XYI.--RELAkTLO.NS CHANGED,


IPAG E
*..9
*.. 32
*.. 48
*.. 61
*.. 82
*.. 98
*  *. 12-4
*..133
*  *. 151
173
*  *. 195
* *.212
*.. 231
* *.261
* 269










I.


Et    Vdt |xamb.
NOT far from one of the most beautiful villages in New England stands an ancient habitation, remarkable as one of the oldest in the
country. It is situated upon an elevation
overlooking rich meadows and    extensive
woods, and the windings of the beautiful Connecticut, with the blue hills in the distance.
This antiquated mansion was some forty
years since inhabited by the family of Mr.
George Finland, an English gentleman, better known to his old friends by the name of
"Easy George;" a title which his mildness
and good-humor well merited. Mr. Finland
was one of the best of neighbors, accommodating and obliging; his friends never hesitated to ask favors of him, and he never refused his aid when it was in his power to
assist any one. It is no wonder that such a
character was a general favorite. Mrs. Fin




30    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


land was the exact counterpart of her husband
in almost every respect. Benevolent, in the
true sense of the word, her chief wish seemed
to be, to make every one about her comfortable and happy. She was not born in England; but her parents were originally from
that happy land. And although in the struggle of our country with Britain her father,
Mr. York, had espoused the cause of the United States, yet when the long war was over,
his love of home revived, and its early scenes
were as dear to his heart as ever. He had
not been dead many years, and the older
children of his daughter still remembered
their good old grandfather. Mr. and Mrs.
Finland, though possessing everything temporal that might contribute to their comfort,
were often silent and gloomy, even when by
their every action it was evident that they
wished to see others happy.
The superstitious would say, they were too
nmuch alike to live long together. Alas! how
much evil has been done by blind superstition; the strange, unfounded dread of something undefinable; something which may
never come to pass. The light of the Gospel
has not yet entirely dispelled those gloomy
clouds which in the days of our forefathers





THE PET LAMB.


11


darkened the minds of many, and were the
cause of much suffering. The darkness of
superstition still shrouds the minds of multitudes in this favored land. Mr. Finland's
mind had been, from his earliest youth, imbued with superstitious notions, and in his
maturer years he suffered the evil consequences
of such erroneous education. In this respect,
Mrs. Finland was indeed too much like her
husband. Their dream-book-for some families have such books, though our more enlightened readers may doubt the fact-was as
often consulted as their almanac; and these
otherwise intelligent parents thought it part
of their duty to explain dreams and omens to
their children, and to teach them what days
were lucky or unlucky, and the happy or unhappy position of moles, &c., &c.; thus instilling into their young minds that poison of
vain superstition which has caused much
misery to many, in spite of their convictions
of its falsehood.
Four bright children blessed the home of
Mr. and Mrs. Finland. George, who was
eighteen,. was a noble, open-hearted youth:
the favorite of his friends, and the idol of his
family. Marry, next in age to George, was
full of playfulness and wit, and would 1lavx





12   TIHE FINLAND FAM -ILY.


been always happy if some unlucky dream, or
some troublesome sign, had not occasionally
darkened her brightest days. However, she
always appeared cheerful; for the bright
hopes of her young heart would soon dispel
the gloomy mists of superstitious fears. Elizabeth, a sweet girl of fourteen, was Mary's opposite in everything but affection. Her loving
heart clung to every friend with devoted fondness, and her mild eye had a tear even for
dumb animals when they suffered, and the
curse of superstition took deep hold upon her
mind. Little William, though four years old,
was still called the baby. He was the joy of
every heart, and too young as yet to imbibe
many of the strange notions of this otherwise
amiable family.
We must not omit, before proceeding further with our narrative, to introduce the domestics of the family of Mr. Finland. Hardicus and Judy were negro slaves; for the
population of New England was not then entirely composed of freemen! Judy had been
born in America, and from early childhood
had been in the possession of Mr. York's family. She had always been truly attached to
her young mistress, who was now Mrs. Finland, and to whom Mr. York gave her soon





THE PET LAMB.


13


after the marriage of his daughter. She was
married young to Hardicus, who was much
older than herself; a negro whom a neighbor,
Captain Mason, had brought from the West
Indies, and whom Judy persuaded Mr. Finland to buy after he became her husband.
Little Patty was their only child, and though
scarcely ten years old, had learned to be very
handy about the house. She always called
herself master Willie's maid; for she had
watched him when a little baby, and followed
after his tottering steps when he was just
learning to walk, and had saved him from
many a fall by preventing him from climbing.
And Patty said she would always live with
Master Willie; for like other children, little
Patty had her day-dreams, and would build
castles in the air. The little cabin where
Hardicus lived was a few yards from the
'great house,' as he always called the old
family mansion. It consisted of two rooms;
one of which was occupied by the old man
and his young wife, (Patty always sleeping
in the great house), and the other was fitted
up for the poultry, with a wooden partition
between the two. Our readers may therefore
readily imagine that Hardicus and Judy were
early  risers.  "             * *    "





14      TIE FINLAND) FAMILY.
One fine morning in spring, George remembered that there were some fruit trees which
Mr. Finland wished to have transplanted,
and reminded his father about them. It was
agreed to set them out directly.  George
brought them from the cellar, where they had
been deposited the day before. Mr. Finland
told George he thought they might have a
warm rain after the mild weather, and that
would settle the earth about the roots and secure them. They had just made all their arrangements to begin the work, when Mrs. Finland hastily came out of the house to inquire
what they were doing. When told, she exclaimed, "' Oh! Mr. Finland, how can you be
so forgetful? This is Friday!"
" Sure enough," said he, "so it is. How
strange that I should forget! -Well, I am
glad, my dear, that you told me before we had
planted them; for nothing would tempt me,
George, to set them out to day. Lay them
close by the fence, my son, and cover the
roots with some earth, and they will be handy
to get at to-morrow, and if it does rain tonight, they will be all the better for that."
George did as his father directed, but felt
sorry that the work must be put off, as he had
promised to go a-fishing early the next morn




THE PET LAMB.


ing with some friends; and in that case, Hardicus would be obliged to leave his work in
the garden to assist Mr. Finland. George
was much troubled, and almost wished in his
heart that there was no Friday. He followed
his parents dejectedly into the house, and
spoke of his engagement for the next morning.
His father said it was no matter; for Hardicus could put off planting until the next rain.
" But suppose we should have the rain tonight?" George modestly intimated.
"Well then it would be a pity," said his
father, " to take Hardicus from the garden;
and I think you had better give up the fishing."
George assented, and wrote a note to his
friend, Donald Mason, that the fishing party
must go without him. After he had despatched little Patty with the note, he wandered out
in search of some employment. He found
Elizabeth finishing a mat which she had been
braiding of strips of cloth, and quietly seated
himself and began to help her.
" This is already begun," said he to her,
"and it will not be bad luck to finish it; so
we will work together, Lizzy, and you will
soon have it done."
"0! that is just like you, George, you





16    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


are the best brother in the world; and I can't
tell how I love you; and now if we only had
the book, you could find out my dream."
" Well, what was it?" asked George. " Perhaps I can remember enough from the book
to explain it to you."
"I dreamed," said Elizabeth, "about my
pet Sylvia; but there was nothing distinct
enough for me to tell you. It was about
flowers and sheep, and trees and water, but
all the time something seemed wrong with
Sylvia."
" Was it soon after you went to bed, Lizzy?
or in the morning?"
"I think it was in the morning. Yes, 1
know it was; for I was still dreaming when
Patty touched me and told me I bid her wake
me early."
" Well then, Lizzy, it is all very good; for
if your dream troubled you, and you are sure
it was a morning dream, then you may know
there is something pleasant to take place; for
morning dreams are always interpreted contrary."
" I am very glad to hear you say so; for I
shall be happy, now, and we will work so fast
together, that we shall have this tedious mat
finished to-day!"





THE PET LAMB.


Mr. Finland sat quietly down to his newspaper; thinking that as he had no work begun
lie would have abundant leisure to read.
This dull day at length drew to a close, and
the soft clouds shut in the evening. At midnight the gentle showers descended, and
early the Finlands awoke, rejoicing in a bright
spring morning. And now George feels his
disappointment keenly; the time for the fishing party to start has passed; and he prepares, after breakfast, to plant the trees. iHe
saunters towards the spot where he so carefully deposited them, and finds his father
there before him. lie wonders to see regret
and displeasure upon his open and expressive
countenance. But soon his wonder ceased;
when coming near he found that the bark had
been nibbled off from almost all of the trees
by Elizabeth's pet lamb.
" Oh!" exclaimed George, " I felt sure
yesterday that something would happen to
these trees. I wish we had not touched them."
" It is now too late to regret this sad accident," replied his father, " there are a few
still safe, and these we will plant at once;
and the lamb must be kept out of the yard.
Come here my daughter, take Sylvia into the
meadow. The weather is so mild now, that





18     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
she will get no harm by sleeping in the open
air."
Elizabeth took her pet in her arms, and they
were soon frolicking together on the banks of
the clear stream, which wound beautifully
through the green meadows towards the river.
She was delighted to find some early flowers;
and taking the ribbon from her hair, she tied
it about Sylvia's neck; and then gathering
the flowers and interweaving a delicate green
vine among them, she had nearly completed
a beautiful wreath for her pet, when she was
startled from her sweet employment by a
shrill voice, crying out, "' 0! honey, you
swate little cratur, niver put your wee bit of
a hand upon it. 'Tis the most unluckiest of
all the yarbs that grows!"
Elizabeth turned and saw Bess, the witch
of the neighborhood, standing a short distance
from her.
" What! which?" she exclaimed in affright.
" The green-the green-never tetch it, darlint-take it off-never tetch it."
And Elizabeth tore off the beautiful wreath,
which she had just thrown over Sylvia's head
to see how becoming it would look when quite
complete.
" Poor lampkin!" the hag continued, " if





THE PET LAMB.


19


ye be dead in the morning, I shan't marvel."
Elizabeth's sweet face was pale as death,
and she stood motionless with horror, while
Bess went on with her talk.
" But come along home wi' me, honey dear,
and I will give ye a yarb to rub your hands
wi', and the lampkin's neck, and then no harm
shall come till it."
" Oh! no, no!" said Elizabeth, looking at
the brawny speaker with superstitious awe.
"I cannot go through that thick wood with
you."
" And why not, honey? I'll never harm
But Elizabeth did not wait to hear her
farther. She ran towards home as fast as her
trembling limbs would allow; followed by
Sylvia, with the ribbon about her neck and a
few torn flowers dangling from it. They had
just reached the door step, when Elizabeth
fell fainting into the room. Mary ran towards
her, and Mr. Finland raised her in his arms.
She soon revived, and finding the family
about her she asked for Sylvia; and looking
round saw the little lamb in George's lap, as
quiet as if nothing had disturbed its kind
mistress.





20    THIE FINLAND FAMILY.


" O! Sylvia, my sweet pet, I have killed
you!"
Mary laughed heartily at the thought of a
lamb looking so bright after it was killed.
" Jump down, pretty pet," said George,
"and let Elizabeth see that you are more
alive than she is. See," he continued, " she
is as fresh as the morning;" and leaping from
his arms the little animal began to caper
about as usual.
" Yes," sighed Elizabeth, " I see she seems
just the same, but she will soon, soon, be
dead! Ah! George you remember my
dream"-and the poor girl put her hands
over her face and sobbed aloud.
Her mother at length persuaded her to tell
all that had occurred. While Elizabeth did
so, their countenances expressed their uneasiness for the lamb; and when she concluded,
her mother said,
" I trust, my child, that nothing will happen to Sylvia; but when you bought that
ribbon the other day I intended to tell you
that green was an unlucky color; but knowing
how nervous you are, I concluded to say
nothing to you about it. I never like green,
and I hope you will never make choice of it
again."





THE PET LAMB.


21


" I wish I had been with you, Lizzy," said
George, " and then we would have gone with
Bess for the herb she spoke of. I wish I
knew where to find it."
" Perhaps she will be around here this even1ing," said Mary, " she does come sometimes,
and seems as hungry as a bear. I wonder that
witches should ever be hungry. I should think
they could always get everything they want."
Elizabeth did not recover her spirits that
day; and at sunset she placed some nice
straw close behind the gate that opened into
the meadow for Sylvia's bed; and saw her
reposing sweetly there just as the night closed
in. She had scarcely entered the house when
Mr. Finland jumped up from the window
and whispered something to Mary, who ran
into the kitchen and soon returned, with a
nice fat chicken, which had been prepared to
be cooked the next morning.
" What is the matter?" asked Mr. Finland,
who had observed his wife and daughter.
" Bess is coming towards the house," said
Mrs. Finland, "and we want to have something ready for her. Perhaps she is bringing
that good herb which she spoke to Elizabeth
about this morning."
Mr. Finland looked steadily in the direction





22      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
his wife pointed, and saw a black figure coming stealthily along through the dim twilight,
which he soon knew to be Bess by the great dog
that always followed her. The dog stopped
near the lamb; Bess said whist! and be
turned about and crept close to the woman's
heels. She came into the yard, and directly
under the open window, raised an old horseshoe, as if intending to dash it against the
glass; but when she saw Mr. Finland, she
made a low curtsey and crossed herself.
SO! I am so frightened," said the trembling Elizabeth.
" Turn your dress wrong side out over your
head, and then she can't harm you," whispered her mother; who did so herself, and
Mary too, while Mr. Finland threw the loaf
of bread and the chicken out of the window.
Bess snatched up the things eagerly, and made
towards home like a hungry tiger. Mr. Finland took Lizzie on his knee, and quieted her
fears by saying that Bess was pleased now,
and would do them no harm.
The next morning, Elizabeth's first thoughts
upon waking, turned towards her little favorite; and stepping to the window and looking
out, she saw that Sylvia had left her bed earlier than her mistress.





THE PET LAMB.


23


She dressed herself hastily, and was running to look after her pet, when she met
George, who asked her if she did not think
that the lamb had gone to make a breakfast
on the flowers.
" Dear brother, will you go with me to look
for her, I am so afraid?"
" Why, Lizzy! afraid in the daytimethat is too bad."
"I am afraid I shall not find her," said Lizzy,
ashamed to acknowledge the real cause of
her trouble. " She is nowhere to be seen."
" Well I will go, Lizzy; but don't despair
quite yet; let us go around the barn first, she
may be with the others. Come along and
don't tremble so, my little child; don't cry
before you're hurt."
Then putting his arm around her waist he
hurried her on.
" There they all are, eating the fodderone-two-three-four."
"Ah! she is not among them," said Elizabeth. "I shall never see her again."  And
she began to cry.
" Never mind, never mind, Lizzie; don't
give up so soon. I promise you I'll find her,
dead or alive. If we don't find her among
the bushes in the meadow, then, perhaps, she





24      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
found her way through the bars and has got
among neighbor Iowe's sheep. Ah! Sylvia
is a cunning little one after all, you find.
Even pet lambs will ramble if you give them
a chance."
So away they ran over the field, searching
in every thicket and by-corner, and over the
hills, to look among the lambs of Mr. Howe'C
flock-but nowhere could they find her.
" Well," said George, " there is one place
more. I do believe now that old Bess can
tell us where she is; and she will, too; for
Mary says mother was so kind as to give her
a nice present last night."
" 0 dear, George, I can't go with you; and
I am afraid to have you go alone. Who will
go with you?"
" Come along, Lizzy, and don't act like a
silly child. No! you may stay, and I will go
alone."
" Pray listen to me, brother," said Elizabeth. " Father will go with you. Come home
with me and ask him. I know he will go."
" No, I will not trouble father. Do you
think I am afraid of any woman? No, not
even of an old witch, in the daytime."
" But her dog-O, George, she could make
him kill you."





TIIE PET LAMB.


25


" I will take a good club and kill him, if he
conies near me. I don't like to make Bess
mad with us, or I would have shot him before
this time."
So saying, he ran into the wood, while Elizabeth went home, filled with sad apprehensions.
George soon arrived at the mud hut of Bess,
into which no one had entered for years, except its present inhabitant and her dog; the
undisputed possessors. The wood in which it
was situated was part of Mr. Finland's estate; but neither he, nor any of his neighbors,
knew exactly when or how Bess took possession of the place.
The hut seemed to be the remains of an Indian wigwam, and as Bess was believed in all
the country around to be a witch, no one dared
to molest her. Her appearance truly corresponded with the idea one might form of such
a character, as she strolled about at twilight,
in search of food, followed by her large black
dog, the terror of all the neighborhood. Every
door was closed at her approach; but every
one threw something out of the window for
her, so much did they fear this grisly visitant.
Few had courage to speak kindly to her, or
to treat her as a human being; except Mr.





26    THE FINLAND FIAMILY.


Heaton, the worthy minister, who had recently
taken charge of the parish. But Bess never
went near his residence if she could find food
elsewhere.  She seemed amazed the first
time that good man spoke to her. She turned
and hastened from the house as if terrified by
the sound of a human voice spealing kindly
to her; and always from that time she avoided him as much as possible.
When George arrived at the hut, he stood
a few paces from the door, apparently afraid
to approach too near, and called out " Mrs.
Nisbey," for so he had heard her called by
those to whom she had introduced herself.
Hearing him, she slowly opened the door,
and putting out her head and long, tawny,
uncovered neck"Be sure now," she said, " and is it ye, misther George? I know jist what ye be wanting
-but come now, tell me what ye be afther i"
" Have you seen," begun George--
" Seed! seed!" interrupted the hag, " I've
seed many and many a thing. I've crossed
the great wathers, and Bess has been a leddy
in her day. But now I am a queen, and this
is my throne, and ye be all of ye my slavesand I laugh to see ye tremble when I come
among ye. Yes!" she cried, raising her voice





THE PET La. M.


27


to a higher pitch, " I've seed as much as ever
a woman did. I've seed king George,-God
bless his majesty,-face to face; and I've seed,
aye, I see now yer poor little lampkin, after
what ye be coming. But ye shall never have
it any more."
" Mrs. Nisbey," said George, in a faltering
voice, " I will thank you very much if you
will only tell me where to find the lamb."
"Ah! my dearie," she said, raising her
frightful form and standing upright, with the
door wide open, " I tell ye, I have it here;
right here; but ye shall never have it!"
" But I will," said George, as he brandished his formidable club, " dead or alive.
Hand it to me this moment."
" Whist! now be aisy. Give me your
hand, my dearie. You are a fine, handsome
young jintleman; and I should like to sit
down by your side a bit. Let me hand ye
in, and be sated, and I will make ye a lord;
for ye be too grand-looking to be your daddy's
ploughboy. Take my hand," she continued,
extending her brawny, uncovered arms, "and
I will sate ye on my throne, close by my side."
George stepped back in alarm, saying, " I
cannot come in; just give it out here to me,
if you please, and I will pay you."





28      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
"I want none o' yer money!" she replied,
" the flesh is swather 'an money-the bones
is swather 'an money-the skin is softher 'an
money-the blood is swather 'an money-and
I tell ye agin, ye shall never have it!"
" I will try then," said George, " what this
good club can do!"
" Come ye on thin," said Bess, stepping
back into the hut; but appearing again in an
instant, she threw a sheep's head at George,
saying,
" Look ye there, is that it?"
Distressed and exasperated, at finding that
the head was really that of poor Sylvia,
he threw the club at Bess with great force;
she avoided it, however, and springing towards him, cried out, " Now, now, I'll have
ye!"
George gave a leap and escaped her outstretched arms, and while he looked about
for a stout stick to defend himself, she stepped
back to the door of her hovel, saying, " I
would na tetch ye for the univarse!"
" Oh! you vile, wicked hag," said George,
" how dare you kill that lamb? If you had
taken any other I should not have been so
angry with you. I'll have you burnt for a
witch."





THE PET LAMB.


29


This passionate threat seemed to bring the
wretch to her senses; and she said very kindly, " Now dearie, be aisy; and I'll tell ye
the whole truth on't. Look now! this great
ugly dog and I went over the hills last night
lookin' up yarbs. The dear wee bit of a
lampkin was fast for sleep in the bed what
the mistress made for it. We just stopped a
wee bit to play with the darlint, but the dog
played too hard, and so quite squazed the
breath out of the poor little cratur. I was
sorry, but ye know I could na bring back life
-there was no use to thry. So I took up the
swate pet and brought it here, and I've tasted
its mate, and I tell ye it's tender and swate as
chakin".
George did not stay to hear anything more
from her; but taking up the head he hurried home. He thought at every step how he
should best communicate this great trouble
to his sister. When within a short distance
from his home, he concealed the head in the
bushes, and walked on slowly and thoughtfully. He was so lost in thought that he did
not observe Mary and his father coming towards him, until Mary called out to him,
" George, have you found Sylvia?  We
have been wondering what had become of





30    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


you; for it is a long time since Lizzy came
home. You seem to have forgotten that this
is Sunday. Pa and I are on our way to hear
the new minister."
George was glad to have this opportunity
of speaking to his father without Elizabeth.
He, therefore, gave a full account of what
had just transpired between himself and
Bess.
Mr. Finland seemed both grieved and angry; and said that her dog ought to be shot,
but he would have no hand in killing it for
the world.
This event was a great grief to Elizabeth.
She was quite inconsolable, reproaching herself for causing the death of her sweet Sylvia; and wondered at the strange wisdom of
Bess in foretelling it; not recollecting that
the cunning woman felt bound to bring to
pass what she had predicted.
The fate of the lamb affected Elizabeth's
spirits for a long time. Her brother and sister exerted themselves to win her thoughts
from, the sad remembrance of Sylvia; but no
one endeavored to convince her that the act
of placing the innocent green vine about its
neck had nothing to do towards killing her
pet.





THE PET LAMB.             31
When the first excitement about the lamb
had passed, the whole family began to fear
that George had offended the witch, and that
she might lay some fatal charm for him.
George felt very little concern about the matter,
and said that the first good chance he had he
would shoot the dog, if he could do it without shooting the old woman too. His father
told him he could not kill her without a silver
bullet; but said that perhaps he could kill
the dog with lead. At the same he charged
him that he should not attempt to do so, but
try to do something to please her.





IT.


EVEN in these days of boasted intelligence
and 'march of mind' there still exist many
popular superstitions with regard to silly signs.
How often, for example, do ignorant nurses,
and injudicious mothers, endeavor to frighten
children into obedience or carefulness, bly
bugbears, under the name of bad signs, o;nen8
of ill luck, &c.; thus bringing up multitudes
of youth under a course of education but little
calculated, amid the troubles of life, to lead
them to cast all their care upon the true source
of comfort.
Superstition was even more prevalent at the
period to which our story relates than it is
now. However, the regard which is frequently paid at this day to silly signs is extremely ridiculous. But to continue our narrative.
The next day Mr. and Mrs. ileaton came





THE NEW COMERS.


33


to spend the afternoon with the Finlands.
According to the simple, social custom of those
days, they brought the baby also, to the great
delight of the girls and little Willie. Mr.
Finland gave their new pastor a hearty welcome; and Mrs. Finland, taking Mrs. Heaton's
bonnet and shawl into the next room, observed to Mary,
" I told you when the cock crew right in
the door, this morning, that we should have
company."
"Yes," said Mary, holding the babe in her
arms, " I am so glad. Run up, Patty, to the
garret, and bring down the cradle. 0! Lizzy, what a sweet little darling he is. Come
here, Willie, and kiss this dear little baby."
Willie ran delighted to his sister, and after
kissing the baby rather roughly, began to admire his little hands and feet. He then capered about and danced all over the room,
and wanted to hold the baby himself.
But Mary said, " Here comes Patty with
the cradle, and after I put him in, you shall
look at him all the afternoon, if you promise
not to hurt him."
So Mary put the little fellow safely in, and
Willie had the privilege of sitting by on his
own little chair to rock him. But the babe





Q3    THE FINLAND) FAMILY.


would kick out his fee;, and Willie would
jump up to take hold of them, and at length
got into such a frolic that his gentle sister
Elizabeth thought he would turn the cradle
over. " I will hold him now," she said, " and
you may stand by me."
" O! how he can scratch," said Willie.
" Cut his nails, sister Lizzy, will you?"
"Yes! that we will. Mary, hand over
your scissors, and we will soon have his nails
short."
" Lizzy," said her sister earnestly, " you
must never cut little babies' nails. They say
it will make them rogues."
" O! I wouldn't make a rogue of this dear
precious little fellow for the world," said
Elizabeth. " You must keep out of the way
of his nails, then, Willie. But don't rock the
cradle when the baby is not in it; for they
say it makes babies cross to rock their cradles
when they are not in them."
Willie, however, did not understand anything about such signs. At all events, he did
not heed; until Mary told him that the baby
would cry if he did not stop. Just then the
little babe screamed out. His mother ran in,
and taking him from Elizabeth's arms, said
" Poo. little fellow, lie is inot accustomed t





TI j NEW COMERS.


35


any noise, and is afraid of strangers sometimes;" and Mary whispered to Willie, that
he must wait next time until the babe was in
the cradle before he rocked it.
Willie said yes; though it was evident he
did not know why rocking the cradle could
make such a little baby cry, any more than it
could his cat.
While Mrs. Finland and Mrs. Heaton
amused and entertained each other with domestic matters, the young lady gaining many
important ideas from Mrs. Finland's experience, the gentlemen strolled out to see the improvements going on in the garden and orchard.
Little Patty was very active in assisting
Miss Mary to arrange the tea table in the
nicest manner.
"1 You must have a table spoon, and don't
forget the pepper and salt, Patty, for Judy
has fried some chickens, and very fine indeed
they are. You can take care of the baby for
Mrs. IHeaton, while we are at tea. Will you
hold him very safely?"
" Yis mai," said Patty.
"I am sure you would not hurt him for
anything?"
" No mam," said Patty, eagerly,





36    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


At length all necessary preparations were
finished, and the hour for tea arrived. Every
one was cheerful and happy. Willie was
made to take his seat as usual at the table,
though he wished to stay with Patty and the
baby. But Mary thought he might be tempted
to rock the cradle again, and then she believed there would be an end to the baby's
comfort.
The company praised the warm biscuits
and the nice chicken. The tea, too, was peculiarly good, and all went on most joyously
until George, in handing the salt to Mr.
Heaton, very awkwardly turned the salt cellar upside down.
" 0! George!" exclaimed his mother.
"That is very unlucky," said his father.
Mary's face turned red, and Elizabeth's
pale, and George was much confused, till Mr.
IHeaton said good-humoredly,
'" It is of no consequence, George. The
salt is just as good now as it was before.
You may be glad, Miss Mary, that it is not
the cream-pot turned over. Such accidents
are very common."
All smiled for a moment; but a change
camne over the Finlands. They exerted them




THE NEW COMERS.


37


selves to appear still as cheerful as they really
had felt before the unlucky accident.
Mr. Heaton returned heartfelt thanks to
the Giver of all good after the plentiful repast. He made use of these few expressive
words of fitting prayer, " that we may cast
away the works of darkness and put upon us
the armor of light;" words which were for
many weeks sounding in the ears of George;
until he would oftentimes ask himself seriously, " What are the works of darkness?"
The good minister and his wife felt quite
happy with their new friends, and after tea,
as the babe was sleeping sweetly, they extended their visit through the evening. Elizabeth sat down by the cradle. She loved to
look at the sleeping child; and whispered
earnestly to Mary, that he looked as innocent
as Sylvia.
They were all enjoying the evening together, except George. He at length came in
looking very thoughtful.
"I was so unfortunate," said he, after a little
while, " as to step on a toad, and killed it."
" Ah!" said Mary, " I thought something
would happen, for you turned back for the
book you intended to take to Donald. It is
bad luck to turn back, you know."





38    TiiIE FINLAND FAMILY.


Mr. Heaton could not avoid a slightly satirical expression of countenance as he said,
" I often think that there should be no such
word as luck among Christians. I am sure,
Mary, it was much worse for the poor toad,
than for your brother."
Mr. Ieaton's ideas were quite new to this
family; and as they could not comprehend
him, they remained silent.
" Cast away the works of darkness," came
into George's mind. Willie, coming close to
his brother looked up and began to talk about
the young ducks that had just come to life.
The baby then awoke, and the company
made themselves ready to depart. Mr. Finland took up a candle to light them to the door;
but seeing a bright spark in the wick, he
stopped to take it out, saying,
"We shall have a letter from some friend
to-morrow, so go early to the Post Office,
George, for I have long been expecting a letter from my dear sister."
"Alas!" said Mr. Heaton to his wife, after
they had left this kind family, "alas! that
such amiable people should be blinded by
such superstitions and unfounded notions. I
must become better acquainted with them
and take every opportunity to eradicate this





THE NEW COMERS.


o9


evil. How pitiable is the state of such persons. Did you observe how I intended to
leave the house by the back way, which would
have led us through the garden and across the
next field, so making, at least, a quarter of a
mile less in our walk? But because I had
entered the front door, it would have been, in
the eyes of these friends, 'bad luck,' if we
had left it at any other! I fear these kind
people have very little trust in God."
The next morning George did, indeed, bring
a letter for his father; and they all felt confirmed in their belief of the sign in the candle
the night before; forgetting how long they
had expected a letter. When Mrs. Finland
saw that it was sealed with black, she exclaimed,
" This brings my dream to mind. I dreamed
I was obliged to have one of my teeth drawn."
"That is a sure sign of death," said Mr.
Finland, " but hand me the letter, George."
He read it through, and was greatly grieved
to hear of the death of his only sister.
This letter was written by the. bereaved
husband, who, with christian kindness, endeavored to administer consolation to others,
when it was evident that his own heart was
alncost breaking.





40      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
He said he had determined to leave England; and that nothing now would afford him
so much satisfaction, as to be with the brother
of his dear wife. He requested Mr. Finland
to write whether it would be agreeable to
himself and family to have him as a resident
in their house.
Mr. Finland wrote immediately to his
brother, Mr. Bland, expressing his grief and
deep sympathy; and assured him, that nothing would give them all more comfort than to
have him among them. He said he hoped
that Mr. Bland would live with them the
rest of his life; and that nothing would satisfy
them but his promise to do so.
Mr. Finland felt more composed after he
had sent this letter; for his grief at the loss
of his only sister was extreme.
The voyage from England to this country
was far from being so easy then, as it is now;
and it was not until the beginning of autumnfour or five months after Mr. Finland's invitation was sent-that Mr. Bland arrived. IHe
was received with the warmest affection by
the whole family; while Mr. Finland and the
good old gentleman wept in silence.
A large chamber had been appropriated to
his use. It had been a lumber room for many





THE NEW COMERS.


41


years; and as there were some strange stories
connected with this room, where Mrs. Finland's mother died, no one had occupied it
since the time of her death. But as it was
one of the largest and best rooms in the house,
and the only one that could well be given up
by the family, Mr. Finland had it handsomely
repaired, and a small apartment added to it
for a library; hoping that since Mr. Bland
knew nothing of the history of the chamber,
he would have no prejudices against it. Mrs.
Finland charged her older children, never
to tell Mr. Bland anything they had ever
heard about that room. And in this beautiful apartment, after a few days, George helped his uncle to unpack, and arrange the contents of his trunks. He was delighted to find
that there were so many more books coming
into the house; and he begged the privilege
of placing them in the library. Mr. Bland
wished to know if a box containing some articles of no great value could be stored in the
garret, where, he said, he could open it at his
leisure, at some future time.
" I think," said Elizabeth to her mother,
" I shall love uncle William-he looks so pale
and sad."
" That is a strange reason for loving him,"





42    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


said Mary. " He looks too melancholy to be
a pleasant companion."
" But I love him already," said her sister.
" I saw him looking so earnestly at me yesterday, and his eyes were full of tears. I want
to do everything that will be pleasant for
him."
" Your father has often said," remarked
Mrs. Finland, " that you much resemble his
sister; and no doubt your uncle has observed the resemblance. You will find him
very kind, my dear children, and if not a very
cheerful friend, at least one who is capable
of advising you; and I hope you will do all
in your power to contribute to his comfort and
enjoyment.  He is a true Christian, and
knows where to look for comfort; and I hope
he will be the means of leading us all in the
right way."
" I wish I was a good Christian," said Elizabeth thoughtfully; " and then I think I
should be happy."
" You are happy, my dear," said her mother, " though you are not conscious of it.
You have nothing to make you unhappy."
Elizabeth sighed, but said nothing; and
Mrs. Finland continued.
" Your uncle has made himself a favorite





THE NEW COMERS.


43


with his little namesake already. Willie begins to love him dearly. He is a kind-hearted
man I know, by the mole on the left side of
his forehead."
'" How beautiful," said Mary, " his room
looks, now he has everything arranged in it.
He says he expects several birds soon, and a
pet cat; which were left in the care of a friend
in New-York. I shall like the birds very
well; but uncle says the cat is perfectly black.
Isay a real witch cat, and I shall not like to
have it sneaking about the house, I know."
" I never would have a black cat," said
Mrs. Finland, " unless it had a white spot under its chin. They say, if you have a black
cat with a white spot under its chin, you will
never want for money."
" Do you think, mamma," asked Elizabeth,
" that I might be alone in uncle Bland's room
in the daytime, without being frightened
He has so many books and pictures, which I
should like to examine; but the only time I
have is before school; and then uncle always
takes his walk, and I should sometimes be obliged to be alone. I do not like to take Willie
there; for he might do some mischief."
" If you were not so nervous, Lizzy,.I don't
think you would find anything to disturb you;





44    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


but you had better ask your uncle to allow
you to bring such things as yu like into your
brother's room."
" I did ask him once, and he said I was not
at all in his way, and that I might look at
everything that would amuse and interest me.
So I could say nothing more; for you know,
I could not tell him my real reason."
" Then you will find plenty of opportunities
while he is in; for I would not like you to be
there alone."
"Uncle does not mind having such large
children in his room as we are," said Mary,
"Cand I do think we will have some very
pleasant hours there; particularly if uncle
Bland ever grows more cheerful. Perhaps he
will be more so after his birds come; particularly if they sing much. He says one is a
parrot, and can say many things. I never
liked a parrot. It is so unnatural for a bird
to speak. I don't think parrots can be real
birds."
" How horrid it will be to hear a bird talking in that room. I shall ask your uncle to
let it hang in our dining-room, that we may
all become accustomed to it."
" 0 do, mamma," said Elizabeth, " and
then Willie can see it every day."





THE NEW COMERS.


45


After a few weeks the birds were safely
brought, and the cat. Mr. Bland said he had
had it only two years; that it was found one
morning under the steps at the front door of
his house, so cold that it could scarcely mew;
that his wife had nursed it with the greatest
care, and after it began to grow it had amused
them for hours with its pretty tricks; and
that even now it would play like a kitten.
The young people were much amused as soon
as the cage was opened, in which the cat was
kept for safety, to see it jump into Mr. Bland's
extended arms, and rub its head against his
face, and seem as happy as a lost child restored to its parent.
Old Hardicus, who brought the cages from
a neighboring town, stood eagerly looking on;
and when he saw the cat manifest so much
sense and affection, exclaimed, " Ah! massa
Bland, dat cat got too much sense for a dumb
critter. I hope he won't git nigh me in de
night."
Mr. Bland, for the first time since he arrived among them, laughed aloud at the old
negro's speech, and assured him that Leo
should never trouble him in any way.
The canaries, four in number, were presented to Mary and Elizabeth, with the re




46   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


quest that they might hang in their uncle's
room, during cold weather. The parrot was
for little Willie Bland, and was carefully
hung in the dining-room, where it could sun
itself every day.
" What a dear good uncle," said Willie,
" to give me a talking bird. Uncle says it
can say Willie," and the bird, hearing the
child, repeated " Willie."
The little boy clapped his hands in an ecstacy of joy. Elizabeth looked disconcerted, and
Mary put her arm about her waist and whispered, " We shall get used to it after a little
while, Lizzy."
" Come, come along, sister Mary and Lizzy,
and see us hang up Poll," said Willie; and
crowding himself between them, he took a
hand of each, and hurried them along to the
room, where George had carried the bird.
" 0 what pretty bright feathers, sister
Mary," continued the child, " and how lie
looks down on us over his great crooked nose."
"That is his bill," said George, "and I
think he may peck you very hard, if you
put your fingers near enough. You must
never plague him, and then he will love
you."
" I nmever v':li trouble him anv way. He





THE NEW COMERS.            47
shall have some of my cake every time, and
all my playthings!"
Every one laughed at the little boy's idea
of being kind to the parrot.
Ah! how sweet and artless are little children's thoughts. Willie was a very happy
little boy. Everybody loved him, and he
loved everybody.





III.


ONE cool morning in the autumn, when the
family were all assembled, Mary looked pale
and very thoughtful. This was so unusual in
her that all eyes were gazing at her.
" What is the matter with my child?" asked her father. "You look as if you had not
slept at all."
" Indeed, Father, I did not sleep after I
heard the clock strike one. I don't know
what wakened me at that hour; for you know
I am a sound sleeper, and generally, like
Sancho Panza, ' make a nap of the whole
night;' but I wakened at one, and I heard
the hooting of an owl so distinctly that at first
I thought it was in the room. I sat up in bed,
and looked towards the window, and there
on the top of the lilac sat one of the largest
owls I ever saw. The moon had risen very
bright, and shone full upon the ugly crea




THE GOOD UNCLE.


49


ture, so that I could clearly see its great eyes.
I would not waken Lizzy, because she is so
nervous; I knew she would be more frightened than I was. I covered up my head, and
tried to stop my ears against its hideous hootings, which seemed to be calling me to my
grave. There he stayed till morning, and I
did not sleep again."
Elizabeth looked troubled as her sister went
on with this frightful detail, and said, " 0!
Molly, I don't wonder that you look sick."
" Nor I," said their father, " it is a very
bad sign."
" But my dear Mary," said Mr. Bland, " if
you had raised the window, or only thumped
upon the sash, he would have flown far away;
for owls are very timid, and very harmless to
the human race. I wonder how you thought
it could hurt you, when the window was fast
and you were snug in bed. You are not half
so brave as Willie. I know it takes more than
the notes of an owl to frighten you, my dear
boy;" and Mr. Bland patted the little fellow
lovingly on his pretty head.
" Yes, sir," said William, " I would throw
a stone right at him."
" That's a good boy," said his uncle, " now
go up stairs to my room, and get the two books
4





50)  Tuic FiNLA x Ii F\II.


that I left on my bed, and bring them safe t,,
me. Don't drop them, for that might break
the corners."
"1Shall I not go with him, sir?" asked
George, feeling a little disturbed that Willie
should be sent to that room alone. "I fear he
will get into some mischief."
"No!" said Willie, "I will not touch anything."
So away he went up the stairs. He did not
return for some time. The girls seemed quite
restless, and wondered why the child did not
come. They presently heard his voice, and
George stepped into the hall to hear why he
was speaking. The girls sat in breathless silence. Mr. Bland was employed very thoughtfully, examining a rare shell.
"I will have them," George heard Willie
say, very distinctly; and then again, "get
away, I tell you; now stop."
Who could be there, thought George, as he
came back again quietly into the room. The
girls asked what Willie had said; and their
uncle wondered to himself why they appeared
so anxious upon the child's account. Presently his little feet were heard running hastily
along, and soon down the stairs he comes at
fufll speed.





THE GooD UNCLE.


51


"What now, what now, Willie?"-and the
parrot screamed out "Willie!"
The little fellow clapped his hands, and
jumped up and down before the cage with
great glee before he could answer his uncle.
The girls and George sat mute; eager to
hear what their little brother had to say.
" I couldn't get the books, uncle, indeed I
could not. He would not let me have them."
The girls looked absolutely wild with expectation, while Mr. Bland said, "' Who, Willie?" and the bird again said "Willie."
" Who," continued Mr. Bland, " would not
let you have my books?"
" Why, that great cat of yours was on the
bed, close to the books; and at first when I
put my hands out to take them, he would
strike at me. Then I called him; but he
would not come. Then I tried again; but he
would strike at me very hard. So I got on
the bed and thought, now I shall have them;
but he lay down on the books, with his face
right towards me, and he looked so cross
when I tried to pull them from under him,
and growled and grinned, and showed his
claws so that I began to think he would
scratch and bite me too. So I ran off. I
am not afraid of an owl, uncle; but I should





52    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


not like that great cat to scratch my eyes
out."
Mr. Bland was much amused at Willie's account, and the young people felt somewhat
relieved; though rather confirmed in the idea
of its being a witch cat. George asked if it
was the cat he was speaking to; and the little
boy laughed and said " Yes."
IMr. Bland then called "Leo, Leo, Leo!"
and down came pussy, looking as important
as possible, and jumping upon Mr. Bland's
knee looked inquiringly into his face.
" I have nothing for you to eat; but I want
Willie to get the books; so do you stay here.-"
Leo curled himself up in his master's lap,
quite contented, while the child went up stairs
again. He soon returned with two beautiful
Bibles; one bound in green, and the other in
red. lHe looked very exultingly at puss, who
took no notice of him; and handing the books
to his uncle, stood before him, with his hands
hanging by his sides, quietly waiting to hear
what uncle had to say. Mr. Bland presented
one to Mary, and the other to Elizabeth.
"Oh! uncle," they both exclaimed, 'I
thank you very much."
" I have long wished for a Bible," continued Elizabeth, I" but I never had one before.





THE TWO BIBLES.










THE GOOD UNCLE.


53


But why did you choose such a cover? Green
is an unlucky color, you know."
" I know no such thing, my dear niece,"
said Mr. Bland, earnestly. " How can one
color be more unlucky than another?"
Elizabeth made no answer; but Mary said,
" I don't know why it is, but so it is. I have
known unpleasant things happen to persons
dressed in green."
" Well, let me assure you, Mary, that the
same things would have happened to these
persons if they had been dressed in white."
"Ah! no, uncle," said Mary, "for white
is a lucky color."
"Well, my dear niece," replied Mr. Bland,
" I hope to speak much with you upon this
subject at some future day. The color of the
outside is of little consequence. The inside
of that precious book contains a never-failing
fountain of wisdom. I pray that the earnest
study of it may enable you to 'cast away the
works of darkness,' and give you 'joy and
peace in believing.' "
" Cast away the works of darkness," repeated George to himself.
" And, dear Elizabeth," continued Mr.
Bland, " all I ask in return from you is, that
you will sometimes read in yours to me."





54    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


"Yes, sir," said Elizabeth, "I will, with
great pleasure. I have never read much in
the Bible; but now I have one of my own, I
will read it through."
" And so will I," said Mary, " if you will
be so kind, uncle, as to explain those parts
which I find it hard to understand."
" It will give me pleasure, my dear girls, to
assist you in the study of that sacred word of
God. I now derive more comfort and pleasure from that, than from anything else in this
world."
" I knew," said Mary, after their uncle had
left the room, " I knew I should get a present; for the palm of my hand has been itching all this morning."
" And I knew I should too," observed
Elizabeth, " for I happened to cut my nails
on Monday, and that is a sure sign."
" Well, girls," said Mrs. Finland, coming
into the room, " go and see that everything
is in order in the parlor; for my nose has
been itching."
" Yes," replied Mary, " we will, mamma;
for you know that George's fork stuck right
up in the floor this morning, when he dropped it at breakfast; and that is a sure sign
of company."





THE Gooi UNCLE.


55


" ' Works of darkness,' " said George, aloud,
as his sisters left the room. "' Works of
darkness,'" again lie repeated, in a louder
tone. Then thinking to himself, " What are
' works of darkness?'" he thus continued
his soliloquy, "I must consider this matter
more earnestly. Uncle has just repeated the
very words that Mr. Heaton used, ' Cast away
the works of darkness.' "
No sooner had George again repeated the
last words of his thoughts aloud, than he heard
a voice respond, " works of darkness;" and
turning about with surprise, he saw the parrot eying him closely; so soon had the curious bird learned those three words.
For experiment, George repeated the words;
and the bird said them over very accurately
every time after him. George wished that
the bird had not been quite so ready to catch
the very words which so much troubled him.
"But I will speak to uncle upon this subject," thought he, "the first good opportunity I have."
George then strolled away into the woods
with his gun; soberly reflecting upon wliat
Mr. Bland had said in regard to the Bible,
and resolving that lie would read much in it
durinr the approaclhinig winter. IIe lhad iiot





56      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
wandered far, and had been thinking too
deeply to look for game, when a low voice,
close to his ear, whispered,
" Master George, plaise shoot that owil in
yon tree, what scared ye all so last night."
He turned and saw the wild form and haggard face of Bess, close at his side.
" See," she continued, pointing to a high
stump, almost covered with bramble; "see,
his eyes is shot, for he can't look at the sun;
now give him a dose."
George was almost too much startled to
hold the gun firmly; but looking in the direction in which Bess pointed, he saw the great
owl, which seemed to be quietly dreaming of
its last night's ravages. In another moment
the gun was fired, and the bird fell lifeless
among the brambles.
"It's mine! it's mine," shouted Bess,
springing forward towards the spot. " Catch
him there, Brutus," said she; and the dog
leaped upon the stump, and springing down
in the midst of the thicket, disappeared from
sight. IIe soon again appeared with the owl
in his mouth, and came and put it down at
his owner's feet.
George had retreated some distance from
the spot, and stood gazing upon the strange





THE GOOD UNCLE.


57


scene. Bess snatched up the bird, and without saying another word to George, hurried
on towards her home.
George's inclination for gunning had by this
time quite left him; and he retraced his steps
homeward; musing, as he went, upon the
strange creature he had just encountered, and
wondering how she could know that his sister
had been so much frightened in the night by
an owl; not thinking that the night was the
time for Bess, as well as for the owl, to prowl
about in search of food, and that the last night
was very bright, and a large owl very easily
seen. He did not for a moment suspect that
Bess had been under the windows at the same
time the owl was there; nor consider how she
had been too cunning to mention any one
in particular who had been frightened, but
merely said, " the owl that scared ye all."
But thinking that she meant Mary, he was
confirmed in his belief that Bess was a witch.
These occurrences of the morning were related to the family, as soon as he disposed of
his gun. They all felt rejoiced that the owl
was killed; really believing that it was the
same that Mary had heard in the night, because Bess said it was. Alas! that the human
mind is so ready to lelieve a lie.





0S    TITE FIN L AN NI F)1VM IT.


The same day at twilight George was so unfortunate as to see an owl fly into the garret
window. HIe shuddered at the sight; firmly
believing that it was the ghost of the one he
had shot, come to haunt them for his cruelty.
He never thought-so blinded was he by his
superstitious fears-that in all probability the
owl had found mice there more than once;
and that it was for that purpose he was then
entering the window; the garret of that house
being a very secluded place, where no one of
the family ever ventured to go at night. He
had prudence enough not to mention this circumstance to any of the family; since Mary
had been so unhappy the night before, and all
seemed to feel so glad that he had shot the
owl in the morning. But whenever he was
awake in the night he imagined that he heard
strange sounds in the garret.
He had begun to be ashamed to let his
uncle know that he had any fears of this kind;
and determined to consult him about such
matters whenever lie found a suitable occasion.
He felt much mortified the next day, when
Mr. Bland ridiculed Mary for saying it would
r0'ain because the cat sat with her back to the
itre. Mary really believed that to be the





THE GOOD UNCLE.


59


reason why it would rain; until Mr. Bland
tried to convince her that because it was going
to rain, and the atmosphere more chilly, the
cat-for cats always suffer from cold,-had
felt the change, and knew that the chimneycorner was a warm place.
But, thought Mary still, why did she turn
her back to the fire; not reflecting that her back,
which was least protected from the air, was
most sensible of the change in the atmosphere.
For fear of his uncle's ridicule George became very cautious; though he had never yet
been convinced by his arguments that all
such signs were erroneous. He thought, however, that it was best to be prudent; for he
did not wish to be laughed at, especially by
one whom he esteemed so highly as he did
his uncle Bland.
George greatly enjoyed Mr. Bland's society.
He would often take much delight in listening to the conversation of his father and
uncle, and hearing vivid descriptions of English life and scenery. Thus time passed pleasantly with all; and although Mr. Bland was
never gay, yet his cheerfulness had returned
to him, and he was a pleasant companion
even for little Willie.





60      TE FI INLAN D FAMILY.
As the cold weather approached, and all
drew round the fire in the evening, the young
people felt happy to think that they had such
a kind and intelligent companion added to
their circle, to help to enliven the long, cold
winter nights, and make the time pass pleasantly and profitably.
Mr. Bland, too, felt happy to think how
comfortably he was established with the
brother of his much lamented wife; and rejoiced to think that it was in his power to
contribute to the enjoyment of his interesting
young friends.





IV.


Mlhhtr CSni-mum
WE pass rapidly by the inclement season
of winter: with its biting frosts and chilling
snows; its leafless landscapes, and its icebound streams. Even at this season the young
and happy enjoy life greatly. What cares the
ready skater for the keen north wind? The
colder the better for his sports; with his soft,
warm mittens, and the fur of his cap buttoned
tightly over his ears; his face glowing with
exercise and health, and his merry laugh ringing over the frozen waters. Thus was George
equipped and employed one cold, bright
evening of fierce December. He had gone on
foot during the afternoon several miles from
home upon business, and determined to take
his skates and gun and return on the river.
iHe found night overtaking him before he
could gain the place where he wished to take
the ice. The full moon rose bright and clear,





62      THE FINLAND FAM3ILY.
and was reflected with unusual brilliancy
from a hundred banks of drifted snow. The
river was smooth as glass and sparkled in the
moonbeams gloriously. Carefully buckling
on his trusty skates, and tying the warm
straps of his fur cap closely under his chin,
George drew on his mittens; and clasping
his loaded gun in his arms, started briskly on
for some three miles of solitary skating. All
was perfectly calm. Not even a flying leaf,
or snow-flake driven by the wind, broke the
magic stillness. The cold was so intense, that
the breath of the skater froze wherever it
touched. Yet George was warm from his
constant exertions to proceed rapidly; and
away he glided smoothly on, with no sound to
attract his ear but the swift rushing of his
skates. His thoughts were calm and happy,
and not even a sigh escaped his peaceful
breast. But suddenly the howl of wolves was
heard; and far over the snow-covered meadows two black spots attracted his eye. IHe
quickened his speed, and as he had already
travelled more than a mile, he hoped, by keeping on the smooth, slippery part of the river,
to reach his home before the wolves could
overtake him. The cunning animals knew
that their only hope was to keep on the snow





WINTER SCENES.


63


as long as possible. And now they come on
at a rapid rate. George has flown on without
a pause; yet the beasts are nearly opposite to
him on the shore. Another mile, thought
he, yes, another mile yet before I can feel
safe. But already had he begun to call aloud
for his good dog Fleet; for he might possibly
be in search of his master, and should he succeed in making him hear, he would surely
come to his aid. Now, thought George, again,
in a few moments they must be upon the river; for I have nearly passed the meadows,
and the banks beyond rise so high that they
can keep sight of me no longer.
" O! if they were only on the ice, I might
hope to escape in safety."
Thus the young man kept a brave heart.
When it comes to the worst, thought he, I
may kill one with my gun, and perhaps I may
beat the other off after his mate is dead. Still
he whistled and called aloud for Fleet. And
now with one bound the wolves leave the
snow, and make at the object of their pursuit on the ice. But they slide and fall at
every attempt to run. Now they stand firmly, and take their steps short and quick, and
cautiously. George left them in the distance
at first, and now with half a mile further he





G4      TIHE FINLAND FAMILY.
is safe. But no, they gain on him. He hears
their panting breath, but never turns for a
moment from his course. On, on they come,
with steady, rapid trot; and George begins to
make ready to turn and defend himself, when
just from the wood on the right springs upon
the ice in front of them the great black dog
of Bess. He stops and waits for the pursuers;
and as they come up, George is only a few
yards in advance. The dog springs upon one
of the wolves, and soon brings him down in
deadly conflict. George turns and sends the
contents of his gun into the breast of the other.
The combat is ended by a few blows from the
heavy end of the gun. And as Brutus comes
growling towards George, the form of Bess is
seen stealing out from the thicket. Down
upon the river she runs, snatches up the smallest wolf, and throwing it over her shoulder,
makes her way back again without a word.
George leaves the other for a repast for the
hungry dog, and pursues his way slowly and
safely home; where he is welcomed with a
good supper, and many entreaties to come to
the fire and get warm. But remarking that
the contest he had been engaged in had warmed him quite through, he hastens to relate his
fearful adventure to the family; who felt very





WINTER SCENES.


65


thankful to the witch's dog for his timely aid,
and resolved never to allow any one to molest
Bess or her dog in future.
Mr. Bland, however, could not approve of
any such resolutions. He pointed them to
the mercy of God, who had sent this wonderful deliverance to their dear George; and
hoped that this thrilling event would be gratefully remembered, as another instance of their
Heavenly Father's watchful care.
The event was long remembered by the
elder members of the family; and often
talked over by the younger ones; and Willie
thought it the " prettiest story" he ever heard.
And when it was too old a story to afford any
more amusement, they turned to their good
uncle, whose abundant resources of information were ever ready to instruct and enliven
them during those days when the weather
kept them entirely within doors.
George was his uncle's constant companion;
and his friends could see that his mind and
manners were much improved by intimacy
with this good friend. Elizabeth, however,
seemed to engage more of Mr. Bland's tender
care. Her health was quite delicate; and
her mild countenance and timid manner,
which were very prepossessing, readily gained
5





06      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
for her the warm friendship of her kind and
sympathizing uncle. She, on her part, was
charmed by his intelligent and amusing conversation; and found sufficient employment
for every leisure hour in his well-stored library; even forgetting at times that she sat
alone in that room; so sunbright and cheerful
did the place seem, enlivened by the gay singing of the beautiful canaries.
Mary also took great pleasure in her uncle's
society; and during the winter, as she had
promised, read through her Bible.
She did not, however, at that time, lay up
its precious truths in her heart, or in her
memory. Curiosity was her chief motive in
this first perusal, and a desire to please Mr.
Bland; who kindly conversed with her upon
every difficult passage. She promised him to
begin and read it again with more leisure.
And he begged her to pray for aid from
on high, to enable her to treasure its sacred
truths in her heart.
Elizabeth had read hers differently. She
had learned this truth, which before she was
ignorant of; that all men are born in sin.
This discovery of her own corrupt nature
fixed itself in her mind, and spread a gloom
over her feelings. She had not derived that





WINTER SCENES.


67


enjoyment from reading her Bible which she
anticipated; for the more she read the more
anxious and thoughtful she became. The
" Sun of righteousness" had not yet shone
upon her, to give her joy and peace in believing; and she told her uncle one day, in
gloomy despondency, that she did not think
she would read in it again. Mr. Bland asked
her reason for such a strange decision. She
told him that she had expected to be cheered,
and encouraged in doing her duty, by reading
the Bible; but instead of that she had been
filled with great sorrow and was very unhappy. After much conversation upon this interesting subject, Mr. Bland concluded by saying,
" Yes, dear child, you have found out from
God's holy word, that you are tormented by
a disease, of which befbre you were not conscious. Now promise me, Elizabeth, that you
will read your Bible again, with prayer for
the light of the Holy Spirit, and you will find
a balm to heal you. Yes! I may promise
you this. Experience has taught me, that
there is a way of escape for the vilest sinner,
and balm to heal a broken heart."
Thus did this faithful Christian affectionately administer counsel to his young friends.
And he felt sufficiently rewarded and en




68      TIIE FINLA ND FAMIL Y.
couraged by the deep attention which they
gave to all lie said.
Nothing of much importance occurred
during the rest of the winter, except that little Willie was for some days extremely ill.
After ten days the physician pronounced him
convalescent; though his poor mother still insisted that he would die, because the dog had
howled dreadfully all night; and in her distress she threatened to have the poor beast
killed. When Mr. Bland heard this, he promised to take effectual means to prevent the
dog from howling.
"I fear," he said, "you will think I intend to turn witch this time; but there will
be nothing mysterious in the matter. So
come with me, George, and I will show you
how to make dogs quiet at night."
And now the wonder was, what their uncle
could mean. Mary and Elizabeth both followed, as George went out with Mr. Bland
towards the dog's kennel. George began to
fear that his uncle intended to kill his faithful friend. But Mr. Bland assured him hie
had no such intention; but wished him to see
for himself how Fleet's fidelity was rewarded.
Then stooping down, he looked into the kennel.





WINTER SCENES.


69


" Ah! George," he said, in a tone of mild
reproof, "it is just as I expected; full of
snow, and the cracks all open. I will go and
get some tow, while you bring a plenty of dry
straw."
They soon returned, bringing also a hoe
and broom. George dug out the hard snow
and ice, while Mr. Bland stuffed tow into
every crack. The broom was then used to
take out all the light snow; and after George
had spread it thickly with straw, Mr. Bland
brought his arms full of soft hay, and covered
the straw, until the girls laughed, and said
it looked too nice for a dog.
" And, now, where is Fleet?" said Mr.
Bland.
" Fleet, Fleet!" called out George; and
the poor animal came shivering up to him,
with his head and tail drooping, and not much
fleetness in his step.  George said that the
poor creature's looks reproached him; and
Mr. Bland, patting the dog on the neck,
said" Now, my good Fleet, we shall have no
more of your nightly complaints. We shall
find that you like a warm bed better than a
cold one; and, George, you must remember,
that he will need a good supper to help to





70      TIHE FINLAND FAMILY.
keep him warm until the long, cold nights are
over."
And Mr. Bland was right; for after Fleet
had been thus kindly cared for, there were no
more nightly howlings from him. Willie,
too, improved rapidly, notwithstanding his
mother's sad apprehensions.





V.


V(t |mfng 6ao        utur*
THE approach of spring was hailed with joy
by the young people; and the older ones saw
its return with pleasure.  Many were the
plans formed for enjoying it; and all began to
talk about preparations for the coming summer.
Elizabeth talked of her poultry-yard. Mary
thought it would be time, in a few weeks, to
put her dairy in readiness for warm weather.
George said he would have an early garden,
as the spring promised to be open; and little
Willie made his uncle promise to show him
how to make his garden. The fond parents
anticipated much pleasure from everything
that made their children happy. And good
Mr. Bland was always delighted when he saw
others enjoying themselves.
IIardicus and Judy began to bustle about,
making up large brooms of twigs, for sweep




72    THE  FiLN1 i) FA)ILY.


ing the yards, and putting aside the loose
lumber, which had been thrown about during
the winter. Little Patty had already begun
to pull up the weeds as fast as they made
their appearance; and Jim said that the
meadows would soon be green enough to turn
the cattle in.
Vegetation, however, did not advance so
rapidly as their young hearts had anticipated; and the cold nights in April were
not very favorable to the gardening which
George had commenced.
But time passed rapidly. May came; and
George, with the help of Hardicus, had his
garden completely made.
Mary's flower-beds, too, were neatly laid
ont; and the poultry-yard swept and the henhouse whitewashed by Judy, and made almost as nice as the adjoining apartment, her
own pleasant home.
"Well," said George, seating himself one
mild, bright morning between his father and
uncle, "I hope I shall have good luck with
my garden this year, as I have had some of
your experience and advice in planting it,
uncle."
" Luck!" repeated Mr. Bland, " you can
do very well without luck. In planting a gar




THE YOUNG GARDENER.


73


den, prudence and industry are all that is
wanting."
"Yes, uncle, but I mean that I am so unfortunate in everything I undertake. If I
plant seeds, not more than one in ten comes
up; or, if I set out a tree or shrub, it almost
always dies."
" George," said Mr. Finland, 1 you should
be careful to plant everything in the right
time of the moon."
"1I do not believe, brother," replied M1r.
Bland, " that the moon has much effect upon
vegetation.  From  my own observation, I
never found that it had; and the experience
of many of the most noted agriculturists goes
to prove that there is more of superstition than
of reason in most notions about the moon's effect upon plants. You are not an old gardener, George. You must bear some disappointmnents before you will possess experience.
Perhaps you do not plant your trees an-d
shrubs deep enough; and the seed you sow,
if good, would invariably spring up, if not
planted too deep or too shallow. There are
rules for all these things, and they must be
observed in order to insure success. I will go
with you, and help you to transplant those





74     TiHE FINLAN)D F AMILY.


lilacs. They will look beautiful in a year or
two, shading Mary's dairy."
" Thank you, sir," said George, as he turned to go with his uncle. "I dreamed last
night that I saw those lilacs in full blossom."
" Ah, George," said his father, " you know
the old saying, ' You will have trouble out of
reason, if you dream of flowers out of season.'"
" But this is almost the season of flowers,"
returned George, "even in our cold climate,
and I fear it is almost too late to transplant
the lilacs."
" Never mind the dreams, George," said
Mr. Bland. " If you have no sorrow, except
what shall arise from your dreams, you will
never be greatly troubled. But when trouble
comes, as come it will to all, then be ready to
cast all your care upon Him, who has invited
the weary and heavy-laden to come unto
him."
" I have been," replied George, " more than
once, made very unhappy by my dreams."
" That was only because you allowed yourself to be so. You anticipated what never
came to pass, and so became a coward, and a
slave to your imagination. That which should
be a source of pleasure to vou, has become a
torment: and unless you endeavor to curb it





THE YOUNGr G(ARDENER.


75


now, it will in a few years be uncontrollable.
I will not tell you, George, never to let me
hear you speak again of dreams or signs; but
on the contrary, I wish you always to communicate to me every thought you have on this
subject, that your reasonings may be examined, and if false, confuted."
"But do you not believe in any signs,
uncle?"
" Yes," replied Mir. Bland, "there are
some signs which I believe; for instance, that
when it is cloudy all round, it may rain; or
that when the sun sets clear, the next day will
be fair; that the east wind will bring rain,
and that the errors of youth, if not corrected,
will lead to shame and misery. Such signs I
believe in, though not implicitly; for every
one of them has been known to fail. My rule
of faith is in the word of God alone. In that
I cannot err. But I expect to have many opportunities of arguing this point with you;
so come now, and let us go to work. There
are not so many here to transplant as I
thought; but we will put off part of the work
until to-morrow; because to-morrow will be
Friday, and I remember what you told me
about the fruit trees, and want to convince
you, that those which we plant to-morrow will





76    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


thrive as well as those we are now planting."
" Well, sir," returned George, " as it is of
little consequence whether they live or die, we
will try the experiment; but to say what I
think, I never knew anything that was done
on Friday that went just right."
C" Have you," asked Mr. Bland, " ever
known things to go ju8t wrong on Friday,
more than on any other day?"
" Yes, uncle, many things. I remember
that on Friday your sad letter reached us.
And I know perfectly well, that it was on Friday that Jim turned the colt into the meadow,
where he was killed by trying to jump over
the paling by the barn. Yes! and only last
Friday, you know, uncle, we were at the trouble of taking a long ride to see a friend, and
found no one at home. And on Friday-"
"Yes! on Friday," said Mr. Bland, interrupting him, " God created part of this wonderful world; and what part, dear George,
do you think it was?"
" I can't tell, sir, but there seem to me to
be many things created that are of no manner
of use; and I suppose such are the things
that were created on Friday."
"You have sone very stra ige ideas, my





THE YOUNG GARDENER.


77


dear nephew; but you cannot prove that there
is anything in nature formed for no purpose;
though to our understanding it may appear so.
But at all events, God blessed that which was
created on Friday as well as the work of the
other days, ' and God saw that it was good.' "
" What you say, uncle, I believe is perfectly true; but I have always been led to
believe, that no good luck could happen on
Friday, and have often wished that there was
no Friday in the week. Sometimes I have
wished to begin a piece of work, but when I
thought what day it was, I have put it aside,
even when that time seemed the best and
only time to attend to it. And I promise, that
if the lilacs we plant to-morrow thrive as well
as these, I shall begin to be convinced that
one day is as lucky as another."
" If, George, you were as careful to note
down the unpleasant events of other days,
you would find that just as many occur on
some other of them as on Friday; and as
many good things on this day as on any other.
What day was it when you broke your arm?"
" I don't remember, sir."
"But," said Mr. Bland, "if it had been
Friday you would not have forgotten.; tell
me honestly, George, would you?"





78    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


"No sir; for I never forget anything that
goes wrong on that day."
"What day was it, when the horse ran
away with you, and you were so wonderfully
preserved from being killed?"
" I remember perfectly well, that it was
Monday; for I had taken Elizabeth to school,
where she stayed until Friday. I was returning alone, when the accident happened. I
know it was not on Friday, for then it would
have happened as I went; for she always
came back with me; and you know I was
alone at the time. It was on my way home on
Monday, I am almost sure."
"And thus, George, I could mention many
other accidents, that did not occur on this innocent day, which has acquired such a bad
name with many. But the truth is just as you
say; you always carefully remember things
that go wrong on Friday."
" One thing I do remember, that occurred on
Sunday; the death of Sylvia. You remember what we told you of that sad business?"
" Yes, indeed I do; and no little incident
of the sort ever made a deeper impression
on me. It was shocking, that the innocent
little lamb should be sacrificed, to bring to
pass the prediction of a worthless hag."





THE YOUNG GARDENER.


79


" Do you really think she killed it, uncle?
She said the dog did."
" I suppose the dog did as she made him
do. I have no doubt that it was done designedly, as I before told you. I hope I shall
some day have an opportunity of meeting
with this miserable creature."
" Sure enough," said George, " you never
have seen her. She will almost frighten you.
She looks so strange. I will try to let you
know the first time she comes in sight."
" Yes, I must see her, George, and talk
with her too. If it is possible to reclaim and
civilize her, it ought to be done. At all
events, I shall make an attempt to do so."
Here they were interrupted by Elizabeth,
who came to ask if her uncle would tell her
where to find the atlas he wished her to look
at.
"It is on the large box in the garret, my
dear," said Mr. Bland.
Elizabeth looked beseechingly at George,
who understood her perfectly.
"I will go with you, Lizzy," he said.
"It is not so heavy as to require two to
carry it," said Mr. Bland, smiling. "I will
go for it myself."
' No, no, unole, I will g) alone," said





80      THE FINLAND FAMILY.
George. "Do you stay here, Lizzy, and I
will soon be back."
"And what can be the reason, Lizzy,"
asked her uncle, "that you could not go
alone for the atlas?"
She blushed and hesitated, and before she
made any reply, George came running back
with the book, quite out of breath, and looking as if he had been chased by a bear. He
whispered to Lizzy, while Mr. Bland opened
the atlas; "I am glad you did not go alone,
for you would have been scared to death.
It was right on the book, and I had to remove it before I could get the atlas. I assure you it made me shudder when I touched
it."
George was so excited that he had spoken
louder than he intended; and his uncle had
overheard every word. IHe looked up in much
surprise, as George concluded; and seeing
Elizabeth's colorless face, asked what he had
found in the garret that made him look so
wild. George now began to think how strange
his conduct must appear to his uncle. He
felt quite ashamed, and went on to explain
matters, by telling him that the human skull,
which he had taken from his box, had been a
terror to everybody; that no one would ven




THE YOUNG GARDENER.


81


ture into the garret except himself and his
father; and even they would not go there at
night.
Mr. Bland was grieved and surprised at
what George had said.
" O, my poor children," he said, " and is
it possible that a harmless bone has so tormented you? What is the reason you did
not tell me sooner? I would have put it at
once out of your way. True," he continued,
"that head was once a terror to many; for
the man was a robber and murderer; but now
it is as harmless as this stone. You shall all,
some day, examine it with me, and see how
curiously and wonderfully it is put together."
George shrunk back at the thought, and
Elizabeth, in breathless fear, hastened into
the house.
Mr. Bland and George had just completed
their work when Mary came to thank them
for their trouble; and remarked, at the same
time, that she was glad they had transplanted
an odd number, for that was lucky.
"There it is again," said Mr. Bland; but
Mary begged he would not mind her signs
this time, for she came to invite them to partake of a nice repast, which she had prepared
witl her own hands for them.
6





VI..tu tOMnig Wallt
IT was a calm, warm evening of lively
spring; the sun had just disappeared in the
veiled splendor of his vernal glory, shedding
forth still, like cheering smiles of heaven,
varied hues of purple, gold, and brilliant
gems, on many a gorgeous fold of twilight
drapery, far up the deep-blue sky; the quiet
air was enlivened with exhilarating fragrance
of early rose, and violet, and hyacinth; garden and orchard glowed with rich promise,
in an exuberant bloom of peach, and apricot,
and cherry, and opening buds of later fruit;
and the shooting foliage of the forest here and
there fore-shadowed other beauties, soon to be
added to such scenes, by the preserving and
perpetuating influence of creative power and
goodness; when Mary, animated by the lovely
prospect of the landscape, spreading out its
charms on every side, proposed to her sister a
walk to Mrs. MasoI's pleasant dwelling.





THE EVEINING WALK.


83


Elizabeth gladly consented, and with bonnets and capes in hand, and prepared for a
later hour, arm in arm they started from the
door, with unusual cheerfulness. It will not
be dark for a long time, they thought, and
George would come for them if Donald Mason
was not at home to see them safely back.
" See, Lizzy, we have a bright twilight, and
there is the young moon peering through the
fleecy clouds."
SIt is, indeed, a lovely evening," said
Elizabeth; and turning, the moon shone softly in her face.
"My precious sister!" exclaimed Mary,
" this is the first time you have seen the new
moon since it changed, and that was over
your left shoulder. That is a very bad sign,
you know."
"Yes, indeed," sighed the poor girl. "Why
did you not think to tell me, Mary, that I
might have turned my right shoulder that
way?"
"I did not think, until it was too late,"
said Mary. " What shall we do? come, let
us go back."c O no, Mary, it is as bad luck to turn back,
as to see the moon over the left shoulder; but
I shall have no comfort all the way. What a





84      TiHE FINLAND FAMILY.
pity it is that we are ever timid. However,
it is still light, and we need not be afraid
now; but let us hasten, and get through the
wood before it is dark. Suppose we should
meet old Bess in the woods. 0! what should
we do?"
"'Sure enough, what should we do? But
let us not think about her now. It is a charming walk; and when we are through the wood,
it will still be light, and we will have time to
gather some wild flowers for Mrs. Mason.
When we get in sight of her house, we will
not be afraid. Anna will be very glad to see
us, and I love to hear Mrs. Mason talk, she
is so intelligent and pleasant."
" And so cheerful too," added Elizabeth.
" We always find some rational amusement
there; Anna has so much time for reading.1"
0! she is a dear creature," said Mary,
" and I think she likes us as much as we do
her. Lizzy, don't tell Mrs. Mason our trouble
about seeing the moon over our left shoulder;
for you know she always laughs at such signs.'
" I promise you to say nothing about that,"'
replied Elizabeth. "See the beautiful sky;
it is still light, and there is Mrs. Mason's
beauntiful old mansion."





THE EVENING WALK.


85


Once through the wood, they began to feel
quite safe.
"This is a very good path through the
meadow," remarked Mary. " I am glad we
have on thick shoes, for the dew has already
fallen; but the grass is very short. Here are
some pretty violets; and, what is that white
flower? Let us gather it; for Mrs. Mason
can tell us its name. There are very few
flowers in blossom yet. It is too early."
"Did you not hear something?" asked
Elizabeth, standing still, and seizing her sister by the arm, while with breathless attention she listened.
" We have no time to stop," said Mary, as
she started from her, and hastened along the
path.
" Mercy!" she exclaimed, " Lizzy, look at
that great toad in the path. How shall we
pass it? What shall we do?"
They both stood gazing at the poor, harmless
erieaturee, as if held by a charm. With clasped
hands Elizabeth whispered,
' IJt i too late to go back alone. 0! Mary,
wlhat can  e vweo?w "
At length MAar~Y summoned sufficient cour-:age to ti'row something at it, and the poor
i'.tJle frigbte(ed.t~acd hopped into the grass





S(,   THE FINLAND.FAMILY.


to hide itself. " Come," exclaimed Mary,
and away they went at full speed.
When they reached Mrs. Mason's yard, they
were quite overcome with fear and fatigue,
and almost breathless, sank down upon the
grass.
Anna had seen them from the window, and
hastened down the long avenue to meet them.
She was shocked to see how pale they both
were.
"Dear girls," she asked, " what can be the
matter? Mary dear! Elizabeth! Have you
seen a wolf?"
" 0! no," replied Mary, the first to recover
herself, " it was only a great toad."
" Poor, dear little toad," said Anna, laughing heartily, " no doubt he was more frightened at you great creatures, than you were
at him. I have quite a mind to beat you both
with this stick for scaring me so. I thought
surely your house was on fire, or that somethling dreadful had happened."
" We were not only frightened, Anna,"
said Elizabeth, in much agitation, " but, you
know, it is such a bad sign for a toad to cross
one's path!"
"I know no such thing, and you cannot
make me believe your foolish signs. But





THE EVENING WALK.


87


come into the house; it is too damp out here;
get up off the ground; you are not quite lifeless, I find. I will make mamma laugh heartily at you."
The girls could not help laughing at Anna's
sarcasm; and jumping up, begged that she
would not tell Mrs. Mason how silly they had
been.
SO! I must," she said.-" I love to see
mamma laugh. It does me good, we find
very little in this quiet place to laugh at;
though we are always cheerful and happy."
"Pray," said the girl, ( d(on't say a word
to your mamma. We will try to, make her
laugh in some other way. Now promise us."
" Well," returned Anna, " if you promise to
be better girls hereafter, I will promnise; but
come, turn aside, and let us walk in the garden, and then you will have time to get your
right looks again, before mamma sees yoll
for you certainly look like a couple of frightened sheep."
Anna's cheerful raillery had a good effect
upon her young friends; and they strolled
about in the garden until it was nearly dark.
When they entered the house they met with
a warm welcome f1nrom M'rs. Mason. She extendedl a luand to each and said,  I I have





88    THE FINLAND FAM3ILY.


been expecting you in for some time. How
you young people love to linger in the twilight.
Why did you not hurry them in sooner, Anna?"
" Because, dear mother, they had hurried themselves out of breath before I met
them."
"Ah! what hurried you so much?-but
never mind, it was growing dark, and I know
how timid girls generally are when walking
alone. All I used to be afraid of when I was
young was cows. I have climbed over many
a fence to get out of the way of them, and
have gone twice the distance of my road to
avoid them. I now can see how foolish this
was; for persons are very seldom in danger
from cows."
The girls felt happy to think they were safe
with their friends, and had quite recovered
their good looks and spirits, by the time the
lights were brought in, though Mrs. Mason
observed that Elizabeth was whiter than usual.
But Anna said it might be the fatigue of
running, and the contrast of her dark hair
with her beautifully fair complexion.
Kind words were exchanged, and pleasant
inquiries made on both sides. Anna said she
was very glad they had come; for Donald
hlad gone to the city, and tlley  egan to feel





TIHE EVENING WALK.


89


very lonely. Time passed on so happily, that
when the clock struck nine, they could not
believe it was so late. The girls began to fear
that their brother had some engagement
which would prevent him from coming for
them; as they knew he was not at home when
they started, though their mother had promised to tell him where they had gone. They
began to feel quite uneasy, and Mary offered
to start without him.
" 0! I cannot do that," said Elizabeth,
"for if there was notliing else, I am afraid of
wolves; for I heard father say they had been
quite troublesome this spring."
" That is true," said Mrs. Mason, " and unless you could defend yourselves, you might
be in great danger. If George does not come,
you can just as well stay all night; and if lie
does come, I do not think I will allow you to
go back so late. It is quite cool to-night, and
the meadow very wet with dew."
The girls felt quite complimented by Mrs.
Mason's cordial invitation, but said they were
afraid their parents would feel anxious about
them. Anna thought it was not yet too late
to expect George; but said he would have to
go back alone, for she would not let Elizabeth
go so far in the night air.





90    THE F'INLAND F AMILY.


They had scarcely settled these arrangements, when George entered. He appeared
quite flurried; and after a look of inquiry
from all the company, Anna clasped Mary's
hand significantly, and asked him if he had
seen any frogs in the meadows.
'" No," said he, ' but I have had another
encounter with a wolf; the largest, I think, I
ever saw. I had armed myself, you see, before I left home, with this good club. He
kept creeping up towards me, and I would
brandish my good weapon, and strike it upon
the ground and trees in such a manner as to
intimidate him. If lie had had a companion,
I should certainly have been attacked."
They all listened with horror, and trembled
to think of his narrow escape. He said he
thought his sisters had better remain; and
Mrs. Mason tried to induce him to stay also;
but as he could not do so, she told him she
had some old torches, and he could light one,
and then the beast would not approach too
near. George thought that a very good idea;
and said he was sorry that Donald was from
home, for they must have a hunt for the wolf
in the morning.
As George was in a hurry to go, Mrs. Mason had several torches brought. and with a





THE EVENING WALK.


91


lighted torch in one hand, and his huge club
in the other, he bade them good night and
marched off quite bravely.
Elizabeth wished he had brought Fleet with
him, and Mary and Anna looked quite anxiously after him, as his light wound along the
meadow path, until it disappeared in the wood.
TMrs. Mason told the girls not to be anxious;
for she had known persons to defend themselves from fiercer animals in this way.
" Ah!" sighed Anna, giving the girls a significant glance, " I wonder tlat any persons
should be frightened at seeing a toad, when
they should feel thankful they had not met a
wolf!f
The girls both blushed; and began to fear
that Anna would yet betray them; especially
when her mother asked what led her to make
such a remark.
" Why, mamma, did you never hear of persons who were seriously troubled because a
toad had crossed their path?"
" Yes. I have not only heard of such, but
have known such persons. I once had a very
dear friend, who made herself miserable about
many such foolish signs; and although she
was well educated, and became truly pious,
yet she never entirely overcame those super




92    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


stitions which had been taught her in childhood. I have known persons to make themselves perfectly miserable, if a looking-glass
was broken in their house; not for the loss
of the mirror, but because they thought the
accident 'a sure sign of death.'  I once
heard a lady ask another, if she did not
know that she never would get rich until
she had worn out all her wedding clothes. I
have known persons who would not put a
candlestick with a lighted candle on a bed,
for the world; not for fear of setting fire to
the bed-clothes, but because it was to them
' a very bad sign;' and nothing would induce
them to let a candle burn down and go out
of itself in the candlestick; not for fear of
fire, but because they thought it 'a sign of
death.' "
" My dear mamma," said Anna, " do intelligent people ever really believe such
strange things?"
"The impressions made on childhood's tender memory are very lasting.  I remember
well, that when I was a very little child, my
nurse used to tell me, that angels fed on the
fair flowers that bloom and flourish bright in
Paradise; and after that, I saw an engraving
in my mother's Bible, of an angel descend




THE EVENING WALK.


93


ing upon a cloud, and holding in one hand a
flower. Then I thought that what my nurse
had said was surely so. And even now, the
sight of beautiful flowers brings to my mind
very dear recollections; and I have sometimes thought that my great fondness for these
'smiles of God,' as some good man has termed the flowers, was imbibed from impressions
thus made on my childhood's tender memory.
And if my nurse had been like some of those
superstitious creatures, who are allowed to
have the chief care of many children, the impressions made upon my young mind might
have been very pernicious. I was always very
particular in this respect with my own children, and once dismissed a nurse for telling
ghost stories to Anna."
" Indeed," said Anna, "1I feel very thankful to you, my dear mother; for I do greatly pity those who are fearful of what they
cannot see, and are really afraid of old
Bess."
"She certainly is a witch," said Mary.
Anna clapped her hands and laughed heartily;
while Elizabeth asked Mrs. Mason earnestly,
what she thought of Bess.
" She is certainly a very strange mortal,
and, I fear also, a great sinner; perhaps a





94    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


convict escaped from justice. If she were
only poor and miserable, she would be thankful for kindness, and willing to admit those
benevolent persons to her hovel who have attempted to do her good. But she is so profane and thievish as to deserve no pity. She
has done some things for which she really deserves to be punished; and I fear that she
will yet come to some dreadful end. But the
idea of her being a witch is too absurd for
me."
" Then you do not believe in witches, Mrs.
Mason," said Elizabeth earnestly. " We read
of them in the bible. Were they not really
witches?"
" Yes; as far as wickedness could make
them such. And I will not undertake to say
precisely what influence Divine Wisdom permitted evil spirits to exert on earth, before
the dispensation of the gospel was established.
But the truly wise and good never pretended
to any such thing as witchcraft. Many have
imposed upon the ignorant and credulous, and
made them believe a lie; affecting secrecy
and mystery, to conceal the vanity, folly and
infamy of their pernicious arts. Their witchcraft consisted chiefly in cunning tricks, or in
the knowledge of some natural secrets, un




THE EVENING WALK.


95


known to the generality of mankind. They
always preferred the night for the practice of
their black art, and dreaded nothing so much
as the open day, and the scrutiny of the intelligent and virtuous. God condemned in
the Holy Scriptures of the law of Moses, those
who thus pretended to look into futurity, by
their sinful arts; yes, condemned them even
to death. Such pretensions are exceedingly
wicked, and those who encourage them are
always to be blamed. Men never begin to
consult witches and fortune-tellers, while they
have any real trust in God. It was after King
Saul had wandered from the Lord, and rejected His conmmandments, that he went to
consult the wicked witch of Endor as a medlium between him and the deceased prophet
Samuel. And how can any one believe that
the pure and holy God would conceal his will
froim his true, devoted servants, sober-minded
Christians, who endeavor to obey his laws in
all things, and reveal it to vagabonds, who
break the laws of God and man? The blessed
word of God will tell us what to do, or not to
do, better than any witch, or conjurer or superstitious sign. And those who err under
the light of the Gospel, by believing in such
things, deserve to be deceived. They madly





96    THE FINLAND FAMILY.


choose the dim twilight of heathen fiction in
preference to the bright mid-day of Christian
faith."
"Then do you believe that all such signs
are foolish?" asked Mary with much surprise.
" Yes, my dear, I think them not only foolish and useless, but sinful. They are foolish,
because they are false, and only imaginary.
And they are sinful, because they are presumptuous attempts to look into futurity withbut the help of Divine inspiration. Those
who regard superstitious signs are really much
to be pitied. They are often very unhappy.
Almost everything is a source of uneasiness,
and even of torment to them. They cannot
enjoy the beauties of nature, nor take such
pleasure in anything as they would, if free
from their constant and disturbing apprehensions of evil, foreboded by some unlucky sign.
I hope, my dear girls, that you are not inclined to believe in such things, yet as I have
before said, I have known persons who had
their minds so early and deeply imbued with
superstitions, that all their learning in afterlife did not entirely obliterate their errors.
Nothing but true religion, which leads its possessor to put himself and all his concerns into
the hands of an All-wise God, can make any





THE EVENING WALK.             97
one perfectly easy and unconcerned about his
future destiny; whether in this life, or in that
which is to come. It is God alone that rules
our destinies, and He will do all things well."
Mary and Elizabeth felt self-condemned,
and resolved to exert all their powers in future, to overcome what they now began to
think childish fears. But alas! they depended only upon-their own good resolutions; forgetting that the grace of God alone can wholly
eradicate such errors.
1f





VII.


MRS. MASON, who has just been introduced
to the reader's notice, was a woman of eminent piety and uncommon intelligence. She
was very highly esteemed by all her neighbors, and most truly was she worthy of their
regard.
The house in which she lived was her native home; and she felt attached to it by the
many ties, which had been strengthening from
her childhood, and constantly increasing.
There her parents had lived and died, and
there she had been married to her worthy husband; from whom, however, she was obliged
to be separated the greater part of the time,
as his business was trading with the East Indies. In consequence of this his children
were left chiefly to the guidance of their mother, in whom they enjoyed a very competent
guardian. Much care had been taken to give





THE PRAPPING.


99


them every advantage in education which the
country then afforded, and to instil into their
hearts that piety, for which their mother was
distinguished, and which would render them
in after-life useful and happy. They were
now everything that the fondest parents could
wish; and Captain Mason saw with heartfelt
delight, the last time he visited his beloved
home, that his children were all that his heart
could desire.
He looked forward with pleasure to the period when he should be no longer separated
from his family, and prayed fervently that the
time might not be far distant.
His last parting with them was so tender
and solemn, that some of the neighbors thought
it a sign that he had parted from them forever; and when George saw the beautiful
knife, which Captain Mason had given his
son for a keepsake, before he went away, he
told Mary that he knew the captain would
never return. But he had now been absent
nearly three years, and was still living, and it
seemed that all the ' true signs' were likely
this time again to prove false.
Donald was a manly youth, highly intelligent, and refined in his manners. He was
the light and hIappinesFs of his only sister, and





100     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
a great source of comfort to his mother. He
had for several years taken nearly all the
charge of the farm upon himself, during his
father's absence; thus relieving his mother of
many cares. Many said he was too soberminded and thoughtful for one so young.
Yet with his mother and sister he was always
cheerful and truly happy. The thought of
the far-distant father would often cast a shade
of serious thought over his fine features, and
he would sigh for the return of his revered
parent; and daily were fervent prayers heard
on high from his young heart for the safety
of that beloved one.
Anna was altogether such as she appears in
the preceding chapter; lively and cheerful,
and at times so joyous as to make those who
did not truly know her think her volatile.
But this was far from being the case. Young
as she was, she knew that in their retired residence, remote from neighbors, and much separated from her father, it was her duty, as
much as possible, to enliven her home, and
brighten the sober length of time which must
elapse during the absence of the ' good captain.' as his friends called him. Yet Anna
had a loving, trustful heart; and truly pious
thoughts of God's over-ruling providence and





THE RAPPING.


101


care. She was so beautiful, in the eyes of
her mother, that only her presence was necessary to dispel any gloom which might hover
around her almost widowed heart. And Mrs.
Mason blessed God for giving her child a joyful, happy spirit. Anna was very thoughtful
of her brother's wants and wishes; and studied his enjoyment more than she did her
own. She was his model of all sisterly affection, and he often found himself, when from
home, contrasting others with her. She was
truly the pride and the life of this quiet
home.
From the hospitable dwelling of this interesting family, Mary and Elizabeth started
early the next day on their way home.
Nothing worthy of notice took place during
their walk, except that Elizabeth found a
horse-shoe, which she took carefully home,
saying that she would have it nailed on the
door of her hen-house, " to keep the witches
out."  Mary asked her where had gone the
good resolutions she had made while she listened to Mrs. Mason's reasoning. But Elizabeth said there could be no harm in having
the shoe put on the door, and it might do
good.
They were glad to find their brother safe at





102   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


home, and preparing to go with several others
in search of the wolf. Old Hardicus had
armed himself with a pitchfork, and promised
Judy, that she should have the skin for 'a
warm cape. She would have gone too, but
little Patty begged her not to go; for if the
wolf should kill " daddy and mammy" both,
what would she do. Judy at length yielded
to the entreaties of her child, and took the
horse-shoe as Elizabeth directed, and nailed
it upon the door of the hen-house.
The party engaged in the hunt returned
after an hour or too, with the glad tidings that
the wolf was killed. He was found by another party of hunters in the thicket, near the
spot where George had seen him, and was so
surfeited with the feast he had seized from an
unguarded fold near by, that he was unable
to make much resistance, and so became an
easy victim to his pursuers. Hardicus was as
much disappointed as little Willie, when he
found that the wolf was claimed by " neighbor More," who had been the first to discover
his hiding-place, and who was the chief loser
by him. Judy seemed to care less for the
loss of the skin than for Willie's disappointment; who, however, appeared quite satisfied,
when George took him by the hand that after




THE rAPPING.


103


noon, and asked him to go over to Mr. More's,
to see the wolf. He said he had seen a fox,
and now he would be glad to see a wolf too.
Mr. More had promised not to skin the beast
until some of his neighbor's children had seen
him; for though wolves were not uncommon,
in those days, yet so large a one was a strange
sight to some children.
George was hurrying Willie along, and
they had reached the long lane which led to
Mr. More's house, when he saw Old Bess
crouching in a corner of the fence. Her dog
lay near her, and she was digging in the
ground with the horse-shoe which she always
carried with her, while she muttered something to herself. She had placed some long
straws across each other directly in the path.
These George kicked aside, as he passed;
remembering what his uncle had said about
this pretended witch. Hie did not intend to
speak to her; but when she saw the indignity
offered to her charm, she sprang on her feet,
threw up her arms in a violent manner, and
shouted so loud that George started, and
Willie screamed with terror.
'Arrah now, Misther George, woe betide
ye; for there be more nor one wolf in the
wood; and ye shall rue the day ye be sich





104     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
an infidel, as to bresh yer foot over my
charm!"
"Be still, you hag," replied George, "I
know you now better than I did a year ago.
I am not afraid of anything that you can do."
Bess trembled with rage, and Willie, with
fear, as she went on with her threats.
" A poorty misther ye be, to call a poor
body a hag. And didn't I save yer life, too,
on the ice that day in the night, when yer
dog wadna come nigh till ye? But niver
mind ye, my lad, ye shall rue the day, I
tell ye, that ye bresh yer foot over the
charm."
George was now really frightened, as the
frantic wretch shook the horse-shoe at him,
and looked as though she would kill him if
she could. He dreaded the idea of being
forced to give her battle; and for fear of
having to defend himself, he took up the little
boy in his arms, and ran along the path as
fast as he could go, while Bess screamed after
him, " Ah! ye may run, but be sure it will
find ye out. My curse always follows close
after ye. It will sure ' an catch ye.' "
Thus she continued until he was too far
off to hear her words.
His old superstitious fears came over him,





THE RAPPING.


105


and he shuddered at the thought of the evil
she threatened, and returned home by another
way in order to avoid her.
He did not intend to mention the circumstance to the family; but Willie looked so
pale and seemed to have something to trouble
him so much that his mother asked if he had
been scared by seeing the wolf. He said no,
but he was " afraid of the old woman."
George was then obliged to tell what had
happened; the recital of which filled his
mother and sisters with dreadful apprehensions.
Elizabeth said she was glad she had made
Judy nail the horse-shoe on the hen-house
door; and Mary pasted a leaf of an old bible
on the inside of her dairy door; so soon had
they both forgotten the wise counsels of their
good friend, Mrs. Mason.
As the night drew on, George secured the
sheep early, in the best way he could; and
gave Fleet a good supper, telling him to be
very watchful.
Mrs. Finland took the precaution to burn
some tar in the chamber before she put Willie
in bed, and made Patty come from her own
little room and sleep on the floor in Willie's
room.





106   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


After all these arrangements were made,
and the night, dark and cloudy, closed in, they
gathered around the stand where Mrs. Finland sat at work, and wished their uncle and
father were at home; but they did not expect
them until late, for they had gone to watch
with a sick neighbor. They tried to talk and
laugh as usual; but all would not avail. The
curse of old Bess still sounded in George's
ears; though he said not a word about it.
Willie grew sleepy, and while his mother took
him off to bed, the smell of the tar, as it
burned, startled the girls, and they looked
aghast at each other. They knew very well,
that their mother had done this before " to
keep the witches out," and her apprehension
of evil made them more afraid than ever.
Mrs. Finland returned, and sat quietly down
at her work; but a gloom overspread her
countenance, and she leaned her head upon
her hand. She sat motionless for some time.
George was reading, and Mary almost asleep,
with her head in her sister's lap. The clock
struck eleven; and Mrs. Finland said it was
time they were all in bed, but that George
must sit up until his father came; for she was
afraid to leave the door unlocked. The girls





THE IAPPING.


107


kissed their mother and retired, and Mrs.
Finland soon went to her own bed-room.
When left alone, the fears of early childhood came fresh and fast before the mind of
George. It was near midnight. All was perfect stillness, while he sat quietly wishing
that his father and uncle would come, and
trying his best to fix his mind upon the book
he was reading; but the more he tried, the
more his mind wandered to the past, and a
dread of the future came over him. The clock
struck twelve. George became drowsy, and
leaned back in his chair for a nap. Before
he succeeded in composing himself to sleep,
he was startled by a rapping noise. He jumped up, and listened attentively, but all was as
quiet as possible. He sat down again, took
up his book and tried to read. He sat perfectly still, and drowsiness came over him
again. Then, rap, rap, rap, was heard. He
started up-listened-walked to the window
-looked out-and at last opened the door;
thinking it might have been his father who
knocked. All was still as death; and George
was much agitated. He walked the room for
a long time; and not hearing the noise again,
he began to persuade himself that being half
asleep, he had only imagined it. Just then





10S    TuII FINLAND FAMILY.


the parrot, unaccustomed to hearing such
sounds at that late hour of the night, and
startled by the noise George made in shutting
the door, spoke out with its clear, shrill,
piercing voice, "works of darkness."  Poor
George! this was almost too much for him.
He absolutely looked at the bird in horror,
while the unconscious little prisoner turned
first one eye and then the other at the nocturnal intruder, as he appeared to consider
George, and seemed to threaten him with his
sharp beak, if he came any nearer. Again
George went to the window, rubbed his eyes,
and whistled; and composing his mind as
much as possible, looked out an amusing book
and again began to read. All was perfectly
quiet. He heard the clock strike one. Now,
he thought, his father and uncle would surely
come soon, and he began to forget his fears.
But presently a louder and longer rapping than
he had before heard, broke the deep silence.
George was at first too much agitated to
move; and after a pause, rap, rap, rap, rap,
rap, resounded again on the stillness of midnight. Hie sprang upon his feet-his hair
stood on end--and he trembled all over. Just
then the door opened; for George, in his confusion, had forgotten to lock it after he had





THE RAPPING.


109


looked out; and in walked Mr. Finland and
Mr. Bland.
"Why are you still up, my son?" asked Mr.
Finland, in a tone of inquisitive surprise.
" Yes, sir," stammered out George, without
thinking what he said.
The father looked in wonder at his son;
and Mr. Bland asked George what had frightened him, and if he was afraid because he
was alone?
4" No, sir," George answered; recoveringi
from his terror, since his father and uncle had
really come, and feeling quite ashamed of his
conduct. "I was not afraid to be alone, but
I have heard something that has startled me
very much."
He then told them of the strange knockings
he had heard.
" Ah now, brother," said Mr. Finland,
turning and speaking in a triumphant manner to Mr. Bland, " do you hear what he says?
I know there are sounds which neither you
nor any one else can account for."
" Well, well," returned Mr. Bland, " let us
keep entirely still, and perhaps we shall hear
it again."
They waited a long time in breathless si




110     THE FINLAND FAMIILY.
lence, and at last the same rap, rap, rap, was
heard.
" Keep quite still," whispered Mr. Bland;
and after it was repeated once or twice more,
he traced the noise to the pantry, which was
adjoining the room where they were sitting.
The door had stood ajar, all the night; and
Mr. Bland walked noiselessly to it with the
candle, and pushed it wide open; but the noise
had ceased, and he stood perfectly still, while
George whispered, " I do believe it is a rat in
that old trap."  They all listened, with their
eyes steadily fixed upon the trap; and truly
there was the end of the mystery; for while
they looked, the little prisoner-a poor rat in
the trap-raised the lid as far as it could, and
let it fall two or three times in quick succession, making a clear, rapping sound, which
George acknowledged to be the very thing
that had so much frightened him.
"Now, George," said Mr. Bland, "I hope
you are satisfied that all sounds may in some
way be accounted for. I have endeavored to
convince you, that there is nothing that cannot be seen, which a man need fear, except
the sin of his own heart, and the holy God,
who hates sin. If I had not quietly investigated this matter, and traced it to its source,





THE RAPPING.


111


you would never have been convinced that
there was not something supernatural in this
knocking; and a famous ghost story might
have been founded upon it."
"Here Leo," said Mr. Bland to the cat,
which had followed his master in, " take care
of that little ghost that has frightened Master
George almost to death;" and.raising the lid
of the trap, the rat sprang into Leo's paws,
who soon put him out of all his trouble.
" Well, my dear uncle," said George, " you
have thoroughly convinced me of my error
this time; but when I was alone, and all was
still, it did sound very strangely."
" It certainly did," said&Mr. Finland, "even
when we were all here together; and I don't
wonder that George was frightened by it when
all alone."
It was two o'clock when George went to
his bed. He slept soundly for two hours;
and waking up, found that it was past four
o'clock, and broad daylight. He tried to
compose himself to sleep again, as he had retired so late, and it was still earlier than he
usually got up. But the events of the preceding night presented themselves so clearly
to his mind, that he found sleep would not
return, and he dressed himself slowly, and





112   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


went to look after the sheep. To his great
consternation the first thing that met his eye
was the calf, a few weeks old, lying apparently lifeless, with a rope tied about his neck.
He sprang towards it, and the little animal
struggled violently. He hastened and cut
the loop, and raising the little creature was
glad to find that it could still stand. He then
opened the gate and the old cow ran bellowing towards it. He watched them with pleasure, and soon saw the calf sufficiently revived
to help itself to a hearty breakfast. Hie felt
happy to think he had just saved its life by
rising a little earlier than usual.
When lie returned from the barn, he was
surprised to find his sisters out so early; and
told them of the narrow escape of the calf.
And now the question was, who tied the calf.
George thought that surely his father had not
done it, and they concluded that either the
boy Jim, or the old man Hardicus had.
" Some very stupid body did," said George,
" and the great wonder is, why during the
long night the little animal had not strangled
itself to death. Let us ask Hardicus about it,
and see what the old fellow will say; for there
he is just creeping out of his door."
The old man went to the bench outside the





THE RAPPING.


113


door, where Judy always kept a tin pan for
his wash basin, and began his ablutions.
The young people approached just in time to
see the water wiped from his smooth, glossy
face and gray, woolly head.
He made them a very respectful bow, and
wondered what had brought Master George
and the young Misses out so early. George
told him in what a condition he had found
the calf, and asked if he could tell him how
it had happened.
Hardicus raised his hands and rolled up his
eyes in such a manner as to excite their mirth.
" 'Taint nottin to laugh at, Massa. I nebber
tie de calf. I don't tink old Massa did nedder. I tink de witches mus a' do it; for I
hear great noise in de win, last night, and dey
bin ride my broomstick berry hard; for see,
it brok in two."
" See," said Elizabeth, pointing to a broken
broomstick, "was it not broken yesterday?
It looks as if it was done on purpose!"
" Oh no, Missey. It nebber was dat way
afore. I sure I hear it thump round last
night."
" Why, Hardicus," asked Mary, " did you
ever see any such thing as a witch?"
S0! yis, Miss Mary, I bin see sum."
8





114   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" And pray," asked Elizabeth, " what do
they look like?"
" Well, Missy, sometime um look like old
Bess-sometime like great black cat-and
sometime jist like nottin!"
" He, he, he," laughed Judy, coining to
the door with the milk-pail in her hand. "I
never see no witch yet-and I'm not a bit
feard o' none of 'em!"
"You git along, Judy," said Hardicus,
"you is feared-"
"But," said George, interrupting the old
man, and rather impatiently, " I want to
know who did tie the calf."
" I tell you, Massa George, I no know. I
nebber did. It mus bin de witches."
" I know that father didn't tie it; for after
he went over to neighbor Morgan's, I was
here, and the calf was loose; but I will ask
him."
" I tell you agin, Massa George," said Hardicus in a troubled manner, " it was'ent me
dat tie him."
" I believe you," said George, " but some
one did."
"Yis, IMassa, yis, yis!"
"We are going to my dairy, George, will
you go with us?" asked Mary.





THE RAPPING.


115


"Yes," said he, "for I dreamed it was
burned down."
They soon reached the pretty stream, and
crossing on a board, entered the low, stone
building, and were astonished to find the
shelves and walls all daubed with mud, and
several large stones in the shallow part of the
spring, which had been carefully cleaned out
to make a place for the cream jar. Mary almost cried with vexation, and wondered who
could have been so vile as to serve her such a
trick, after she had had it whitewashed and
the shelves cleaned.
"The witches, surely, Mary, or the fairies
have been sporting here," said George, " but
I think they must have had dirty hands, and
some strength too, to bring these great stones
here. Here is the print of a bare foot in the
mud, and a dog's foot too-yes, more than
one-too large for Fleet."
"Ah!" said Elizabeth, " I was much
troubled all night about what Bess said to
you."
"Yes," exclaimed George, clapping his
hands, " I believe that old Bess is at the bottom of all this mischief."
" What shall we do to please her?" asked
Mary, much troubled. " I fear when I put





116   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


my milk or butter here that she will destroy
it."
" That is very likely; but the best way is
to let her alone, and be kind to her, the first
time you have a chance."
" I am afraid," said Elizabeth, " to go to
my poultry yard; though it all seemed right
while we were talking with Hardicus, and I
see that he has let out the fowls."
They asked Hardicus, as they met him on
his way to the garden, if all was safe; and he
said he thougght so. But they went and looked into the hen-house for themselves, and
found the nests full of new hay, and the old
lame duck quietly sitting in the corner, as if
keeping watch. This they thought very
strange; and Mary said,
" Elizabeth surely must be a favorite with
the witches and fairies."
Elizabeth said she was glad that the horseshoe had been put on the door; adding significantly, " I wonder what uncle will say of
all this."
" Pray don't tell him," urged Mary, " he
is so grave, when he gets upon this subject."
" I certainly shall," said George, " if I find
a good opportunity; for I am determined if
there is no truth in such things, to be con




THE RAPPING.


117


vinced of it, if possible. I have so often been
deceived by trusting to signs, and have suffered so much from them, that I should be
glad indeed if they had no more power over
me; and moreover, I am under a sort of promise to communicate to uncle all my thoughts
upon this subject."
" But, uncle Bland never satisfies me,"
said Mary. 1" He only conjectures how such
things happen. We might do the same, and
yet be very far from the truth."
"That is true," replied George, "yet there
is always much probability in his conjectures,
and reasons too. I am determined to consult
him about the events of last night, and hear
his opinion. But come, Patty is calling us to
breakfast."
When they were all assembled at the table,
they were so quiet and grave, that their father
asked what made them so sober. Mrs. Finland made an excuse for them. George had
not slept much; and the girls were up too
early.
Mr. Bland, contrary to his usual custom,
was quite silent. Even Willie did not smile
and chatter as usual; until the parrot, eying
them earnestly, screamed out "' works of darkness." These words seemed to rouse every





118   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


one, Willie laughed heartily; George looked
at the bird, with the same expression of wonder, that he always felt when Poll brought out
these words; and his heart trembled when he
remembered how the bird's voice had thrilled
through his nerves in the stillness of the last
night.
Mary and Elizabeth started, and felt vexed
that the bird had learned those words so exactly.
"These are the very words I had in my
mind, as Poll spoke," said Mr. Bland. " And
now tell me, George, did you hear the dog
bark about three o'clock this morning?"
George said he had not heard him; but his
father remarked, that he heard him bark in a
very fierce manner; but that he did not look
out to see what was the matter.
" I did," said Mr. Bland, " and I saw gliding across the yard, a dark figure, followed
by what I thought was a dog. It was bright
starlight; yet I could not distinguish whether
this figure was a man or woman. Fleet did
not stir from his kennel; but barked and
growled terribly."
" It was old Bess!" exclaimed Mary, " for
I know no one else, who would be about in
the dark wxith a dog. I now believe with you,





THE RAPPING.


1.19


George, that she has made all the trouble of
last night."
George then told his uncle of his encounter
with Bess, the day before; and of the calf
and the dairy.
" I am very glad, George, that you have
told me these things; and as I have promised,
so I will make everything as clear as I can
for you. When I saw that person in the
yard last night, I thought it could not be for
any good purpose. She-for now I feel convinced that it was your reputed witch-came
from the direction of the barn, and no doubt
she tied the calf, with the hope that it would
draw the noose, which she made in the rope,
so tight as to choke it before morning; but
the little animal, not being accustomed to
roam about in the dark, doubtless lay quietly
down again after she left it, and its struggles
could not have begun much before you got
there, or it certainly would have died. This
was done for revenge; as well as to make
good her prediction, that you should rue the
day you scorned her charm."
" What you say, uncle, is very reasonable,"
remarked George, and as none of us tied
it-for I believe Hardicus tells the truth-she
certainly must have done it. And now do





120     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
you think she made such work at Mary's
dairy?"
" I certainly do," replied Mr. Bland, " for
yesterday morning I was up very early, and
attracted by the beautiful appearance of the
east, before the sun rose, I stood gazing at it
from my window. The whole prospect was
truly charming. From the sky my eye fell
upon its bright reflection in the beautiful
river, which was still and as clear as a mirror; and then ranged along the woods and
meadows, until it rested upon Mary's pretty
dairy, and there was rivetted, by seeing a
hag-like creature, peeping in at the window.
I remained motionless, with my eye fixed
upon her. She entered the door and after a
few seconds came out, and hurried towards
the wood."
" But," said Mary, interrupting Mr. Bland,
" my dairy was perfectly clean last evening,
for mamma and I looked in as we walked
along by."
" Grant it, my dear," he replied; " and do
you not think that she, too, saw that it looked
very nice? and do you not believe that it
would give pleasure to such a character as
Bess, to put things in disorder, and give
you as much trouble as possible? She, no





TfiE ]RAPPING.


121


doubt, did it as much to excite wonder, as to
gratify her love of mischief, and to carry out
her revenge towards George still further. I
do not believe there is another person in the
neighborhood, that would do such a thing."
"It certainly is the most natural conclusion
we can make," said George, " and has reason
on its side too. I believe I should have
thought of it myself, if I had seen Bess standing there, as uncle did."
( But now, uncle," said Mary, i I think
the most difficult part is yet unexplained."
" Yes," began Elizabeth, interrupting her,
and speaking in rather a confident tone. " I
believe uncle will find it harder to say,
why there was no mischief done to my henhouse."
1" I see no difficulty in that, my child. Perhaps she did not even think of it. But the
most satisfactory conclusion is, that as the
hen-house is under the same roof with Hardicus' cabin, and there is only a thin partition
of boards between them, she might have
thought that the noise of the fowls would
waken the old man and his wife, and lead to
a discovery of her villainy."
" Just so," said George. " I never thought





122   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


of that. I begin to think that Bess is bad
enough for anything."
" What I have said, my dear children,"
added Mr. Bland, "is more than probable,
though it cannot be proved; and even if I
could not have explained these things so much
to your satisfaction, yet, believe me, they
never were accomplished by any supernatural
agency."
" We are much obliged to you, brother,"
said Mr. Finland, " for taking so much pains
to explain these things to the children, and to
quiet their fears; and I hope that in future
they will endeavor to find out the causes of
such things without troubling you."
" I never consider it a trouble to speak with
them on this or any other subject; and all
that I ask of them is, that whenever they feel
so disposed, they will communicate their
thoughts freely to me."
Before the close of that day, George and
his sisters found that they had still more reason to think that their uncle's conjectures
were true; for while George was looking
about the barn-yard, he discovered a rusty
horse-shoe hanging on that corner of the fence
where the calf was tied. Every one believed
that Bess had placed it there, while she was





TI1E RAPPING.            123
occupied in tying the calf, and in her hurry
had gone off and forgotten it. This circumstance, connected with the prints of the feet
of a large dog, in the mud by the dairy, fully
justified all that Mr. Bland had conjectured.





VIMJ


z~t1i1trube
TlE house of Bess, in the wood, had been
a place of terror to the timid for many years.
It was situated upon a little rising ground at
the end of the wood which formed one extremity of Mr. Finland's estate. As we have before said, it was supposed to be the remains
of a wigwam; for there it had stood "1time
out of mind." It was built of heavy stones
heaped, in their rough state, one upon another,
and covered with logs, which looked as if they
were selected for their durability. The ends
of these logs stuck out irregularly. The turf,
which had been put there to keep out the cold,
now looked smooth and green as a hillock,
except that here and there upon it was a
bramble or some other wild bush. A small
maple-tree had grown on the top near the
front of this strange abode. Long grass and
vines hung from the ends of some of the logs,





THE REP ULSE.


125


and the stony sides were covered with moss;
and here and there could be seen the remains
of birds' nests sticking in the crevices. It appeared as if it had originally been plastered
iiiside with something to keep out the cold;
and at this time there might be seen innumerable old rags, corn-husks, and grass sticking
between the stones. An old tree had been
blown down, close by the side of the building,
and its long roots reached above the top.
Underwood and brambles almost concealed
the hut from view; and no one would have
supposed that a human being lived there. A
rude door still hung upon heavy iron hinges;
and this feature made many dispute the notion that it had been built by Indians. But
as this point was never settled by the wise
people of that day, it would be worse than
useless to attempt now to throw any light
upon the question.
Mr. Heaton, the good minister of the village, who had made an attempt to interrogate Bess, said she certainly must have been
very handsome in her youth. Though often
called " Old Bess," he thought she could not
be more than forty; as her hair, though kept
in a perfect mat, was not at all gray. Her
features were finely formed, but thin and sharp





126   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


from want and sin, and her teeth perfect.
She was very tall, and in her movements more
resembled a man than a woman. Hei skin
was burned brown, and her hands, though
small, were coarse and hard. She was active
and strong; climbing a fence as nimbly as
her dog, and throwing a sheep over her shoulder with much ease. Her chief employment
in summer seemed to be to provide against
the cold of winter; for heaps upon heaps of
bushes, chips, and even well cut wood, which
she would carry off from any yard that she
passed in her nightly rambles, were piled
about, at convenient distances from her door.
One reason why some believed her to be a
real witch was, that she had been seen at a
neighboring town, dressed so decently that
but for her dog, which was with her, she would
not have been recognized.
Mr. Heaton, as he had determined, invited
Mrs. Mason one day to accompany himself
and Mrs. Heaton to the hut of Bess; to satisfy themselves whether anything could be done
for her.
The day was bright and beautiful, when
these benevolent ladies and their guide reached the end of their long walk. They found
Bess seated upon a large stone near the door





THE REPULSE.


127


of the hut, with a man's hat on her head, and
smoking a pipe. She took the pipe from her
inrouth and looked in wonder" at them. The
dog sprang towards them, but a word froom
Bess brought him to her feet, where he lay
quietly down.
" And what be ye all afther?" asked the
hag.
"We came," began Mr. Heaton, 1' to see
if we could not persuade you to leave this
gloomy place and take a room in the village,
which we will prepare for you."
" Ye be very kind, but-"
Here she stopped,--and Mr. Heaton went
on.
" We will find constant employment for
you, and you can have an opportunity of living more as a Christian should do."
"Ye be very kind, sure," again she began.
"I am very glad to think you are so sensible of kindness shown to you, and we wish
you to make up your mind to leave this place
as soon as possible. I will send a cart for
you and anything you have here that you may
wish to take with you."
" Saints above," exclaimed Bess, "do hear
the man, sure the very old--"
"That is not a very respectful way for you





128     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
to speak to a minister of the gospel," said
Mrs. Mason gently. " But it is so long since
you associated with your fellow-creatures,
that I suppose you ought to be excused."
" Ha-ha-ha-" laughed Bess, as Mrs.
Mason concluded; and her loud laugh rang
through the wood. "I have seed a praist
afore now; and I know all the saints in the
calendar; and I know ye too, my lady; and
if the captain ever comes back alive, ye may
wonder!"
" When shall we send for you, Mrs. Nisbey?" asked Mr. Heaton, anxious to determine that part of the business.
" Whin! whin?" exclaimed Bess, in a loud
tone, " why, whin the stars fall from the heavens! whin the trees dance round the meadows!
whin the dead rise from the grave! whin I
am a fool, and whin Brutus has no teeth!
thin ye may send for me, yer riverence."
" We are sorry to hear you speak in that
way. We have come to do you good; and if
you knew how much better it would be, for
your body and your soul, to live like a Christian, you would immediately accept our offer."
" By my show], now honey, I blave ye do
think I am a born fool. And for what would
I lave my nate little home here, and be lavin





THE REPULSE.


129


poor Brutus to die? for ye could na get him
away nohow. And for what would I be
stuck up in a room with a set of fools coming
in to spake to me every day; and yer riverence a preaching to me too? And for what
would I be afther lavin ye, my pretty pet?"
she continued, as she drew a long black snake
out of her bosom and curled it round her
naked arm.
Horror-struck, the ladies almost shrieked;
but remembering that such snakes are very
harmless, they kept quiet; looking in amazement at Bess, as she caressed the glossy reptile,
which seemed to be much pleased, and after
a few moments glided back into her bosom.
"These are my friends," she continued.
"That I have had from a pup--and this,"
laying her hand on her bosom, " I have raised
from the egg. Yis, an I love 'em, and would
not lave 'em for all iv ye."
" We should be glad to help you through
the rest of your earthly course," continued
the patient man of God, " and will still try to
convince you, that you are breaking the laws
of God and man by living so."
" The laws of man," exclaimed Bess interrupting him, " I hate; and love to break 'em.
I was free-born, and I have lived free, and
9





130   THE IFINLAND FAMILY.


will die free; yes, die where and wheni I
plaise. And as for His laws, why should I
care for His laws? He forsook me long and
long ago; and thin I was lost; and now I
care naught for Him, or his laws. He can
never find me here."
" O! miserable creature," said Mr. Heaton,
" cease your blasphemy. I fear it is casting
pearls before swine, to try to convince you of
His goodness, and His mercy which waits to
save even sueh a sinner as you."
" Whist!" cried the hag, " now by all the
saints, yer preachin, but it won't do. Ye may
as well be still; and if ye plaise, I will be
glad to see ye goin."
" Yes," said Mrs. Mason, " we will not stay
any longer with such a hardened sinner; but
when you are left alone, I hope you will feel
sorry for your disrespect to our good minister,
and repent."
" Repint?"  repeated  Bess, apparently
alarmed, " and for what shall I repint? What
do ye know of me? Does the captain go to
ould England! But never a bit will he come
back again to tell ony tales. The waves will
kiver him. The sharks will eat him, body
and showl, and the devil will keep him safe,
till he gets ye too."





THIE REPULSSE.


131


" Come, come," said Mrs. Heaton, in dismay, "let us hasten away from this horrid
place. I cannot bear to hear her. Mrs. Mason, do come. My dear husband, say no more
to her!"
" Ah! my swate pet, now I hear ye spake
for the first time," said the woman, addressing Mrs. Heaton, "but give me yer hand,
and I will tell yer forten. HIow will ye live
whin yer dear husband is dead? Ye canna
come to the wood like me, for there are yer
childer; and what will ye do thin? I will
give ye a home here, but I won't have yer
childer. No, I wiH drive off the childer."
Mrs. Heaton turned from her in horror, and
went some distance from the spot; while Mr.
Heaton and Mrs. Mason remained a little
longer. Mr. Heaton again spoke earnestly
to her; and as she did not interrupt him, he
began to hope that his words might, after all,
make some good impression upon her. After
he concluded, Bess made a low curtsey, and
told him she hoped that was the last ' sarmon'
she would ever hear him ' praich;' that her
heart was as hard as a rock, and that she had
already forgotten all he had said. He told
her if she was ever in want of anything she
must come to him, for notwithstanding what





132   THE F INLAND FAMILY.


she had said, he would cheerfully assist
her if he could. Bess told him that she
wanted none of his help; that she could help
herself; that she was as well and hearty as
the best of them, and that she would die
sooner than she would ask a favor of any one.
They left her, in despair, feeling, indeed,
as if God had forsaken her.
Mr. Heaton thought it was not proper that
such a lawless creature should be allowed to
go at large in any community, and said that
he would ask the opinion of some of the gentlemen of the neighborhood. Mrs. Mason related to him several things that Bess had
done, for which she ought to have been punished, for several of them could have been
proved against her; adding that so many
seemed to dread offending her-as she was
almost universally considered a witch-that
nothing had as yet been done.
They then joined Mrs. Heaton, and walked
homeward. They called at Mr. Finland's on
their way, and chatted and rested an hour or
two, and told their friends where they had
been and what had occurred.
Mr. Bland said he would take some opportunity of seeing Bess himself; for as yet he
had never happened to meet her.





IX.


ONE day, as Mr. Bland and George were
walking, he pointed to the dairy and said,
" See, George, the four lilacs on this side,
which were planted on Friday, look as flourishing as the others."
" Yes, sir," answered George, " I have looked at them before; and I now begin to think
that Friday is just like other days. Last
Friday I went hunting, the first time that I
ever went on that day. I shot eight out of
the first flock of quails that I started. Fleet
performed his part better than usual, and
really I never had greater success."'
" It was on Friday, George, that I left my
old home in England, more than a year ago,
and no calamity has befallen me since."
Mr. Bland and George sat down on the seat
under the old tree by the door, where Mary
and Elizabeth joined them. Mr. Bland seated





134     TiiiE FINLAND 1FAMILY.
one at each side of him, and putting an a arn
around each, told them they were not to run
away until he gave them permission. The
girls were quite pleased and amused by such
imprisonment; and Mr. Bland called to little
Willie, who came running towards them, his
countenance beaming with pleasure and expectation.
"Go, my little man, and bring me the
bone that you will find on the chair by my
bed."
" Yes, sir," said the child, and ran away,
delighted to execute his uncle's cominands.
The girls now wondered what uncle Bland
could be at; but George understood what was
to take place. IHe sat down on a large stone
at his uncle's feet, and with an anxious face
awaited the return of his little brother.
" I don't like to look at bones," said Mary,
"it always makes me feel so strangely. I
wonder what kind of a bone you have found,
uncle."
" Oh, Elizabeth and George know," replied
he, " and I promised some time ago, to let theni
examine it for themselves, and to make a few
interesting explanations."
Now the truth flashed upon the mind of
Elizabeth, and she nmade an attempt to spring





THE NEW TERROR.


135


from her uncle. This he had expected, and
was prepared to prevent her.
Just then Willie came to the door holding
in both hands the human skull before mentioned. George drew back, while Mary screamed
so loud, that Willie, in his surprise, let the
skull fall from his hands, and stood motionless,
Mr. Bland reproved his nieces more severely than they supposed he could, and soon succeeded in making them quiet.
" Why, my little man," said he, addressing
himself to Willie, " why did you let my bone
fall down so hard? Pick it up and hand it to
uncle."
" Because Mary screamed so," said Willie;
and stooping down, he soon had it safe again
in his hands, and stepping forward placed it
upon Mr. Bland's lap.
" That is a man; now kiss me."
Willie did so, and then stood quietly by, to
hear what was to be said.
Mr. Bland began, " This curious piece of
God's wonderful workmanship, is, I well know,
quite a new sight to you all. But if you
will quiet your absurd fears, and listen, you
cannot fail to be enlightened and interested."
"I never had an opportunity of examin




136     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
ing anything of the kind before," remarked
George, as he looked at it from a distance.
" Come near, child," said his uncle, " or
you will not be able to see distinctly all its
perfections."
" Perfections!" repeated Elizabeth to herself, "horrors, he had better say."
Yet they both kept still, so afraid were they
of displeasing their uncle by another attempt
to escape.
"Look," said he, as he took the skull into
his hands, "we have not only the skull, but
the lower jaw, perfectly joined to the upper
by these curious hinges."
" 0, uncle, do all our heads look like
that?" asked Mary.
" Not just now, my dear, but a time will
come, when there will be nothing left of our
heads, but the bones which now enclose our
brains, and these which mark the outlines of the
face. All the animated beauty of the human
countenance must pass away and be forgotten; but the beauty of the soul is immortal."
" See," he continued, " these sockets, they
were once the most expressive part of the
face, now how vacant."
" It does not seem possible," remarked
George, " that the eye and what pertained





THE NEW TERROR.


137


to it would be sufficient to fill so large a
space."
" Oh! uncle," said Elizabeth, " do let me
go!"
" Not just yet. You will be pleased and
interested, when you examine the different
parts of which it is composed.   See how
nicely and perfectly these saw-like edges fit
into each other. Some of the points are very
irregular, yet each exactly corresponds to its
fellow. And thus the skull is composed of
distinct and separate bones, so exactly fitted
together that it looks, at a superficial glance,
like one entire and solid bone."
"' And so I always thought it was," said
Mary, in surprise.
" And what was here, uncle?" asked Willie,
putting his fingers into it.
"There the brain was securely enclosed.
See how large a place it occupied. In childhood the skull is constantly expanding to accommodate the growth of the brain."
Thus did Mr. Bland continue his remarks
for some time; explaining the position of the
several parts, and throwing in occasional remarks adapted to lead the minds of his youthful auditors to suitable reflections upon the
wisdom and goodness of the Creator; until





138   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


the girls recovered, in a great degree, from
their childish fears, and were even induced by
their uncle to take the dreaded object into
their hands.
" He had no teeth," remarked Willie.
"Yes, lie had, my dear," replied Mr.
Bland, "but they fell out when the gums
were destroyed. See, here are the places
where the teeth once were."
" Where did you find it, uncle?" asked the
child.
" It was given to me, my dear, by a friend
at Oxford. Ile was a surgeon, and this was
once the head of a murderer. I have never
had any particular use for it; but when I first
received it, it was as great a curiosity to me
as it was to you. The events of this morning
have been very pleasing to me, and I hope,
also, profitable to you. I will put it in some
place where you can see it every day, and
so become accustomed to the once dreaded
thing. Where shall it be placed, George?"
" In the hall, if you please, uncle, just behind the door. And when the door is shut during the day, it would often be in our view
there, and would not be observed by friends
as they enter, so as to startle them."
Mr. Bland placed it carefully behind the





THIE NEW TERROR.


139


front door, where it remained only until the
next day; for Mrs. Finland, going into the
hall, and not knowing what had been done,
was so startled and alarmed, that she told
George he must remove it instantly; for she
would not have it in the house. He took it,
therefore, into the summer-house, which was
a beautiful bower, in the middle of the garden; and placed it carefully overhead among
the branches, but where it could be distinctly
seen. To that place the young people often
resorted, and sometimes the girls had tea
there for their parents. Here, too, was Elizabeth's favorite retreat, where she delighted
to read her Bible, and secretly to offer her
prayers for that Divine assistance which she
felt that she greatly needed.
She had gone through the New Testament
the second time; and had begun to experience, that there is a sweet and precious hope
for those who search aright, and earnestly
seek for heavenly wisdom. She had not
yet, however, entirely conquered her childish
fears, and would oftentimes, while alone in
this shady, quiet spot, even with the word of
life in her hands, start and tremble, if a leaf
fell at her feet, or a cricket hopped upon the
bench.





140     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
On the very evening after George had so
carefully placed the skull in the bower, she
retired to this dear retreat, without knowing
that he had done so. The sun had not yet
sunk beneath the horizon. All nature was
lovely and animating; and the feathered
songsters gladdened the heart of Elizabeth, as
she came running along with an unusually
cheerful air. She stooped to pluck a flower,
which attracted her eye just at the entrance
of the bower. As she did so she repeated the
words from Isaiah, " The wilderness and the
solitary place shall be glad for them, and the
desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose."
Opening her bible to the passage, she was
soon so much engaged in reading the prophet's wonderful language, that she did not
observe that the sun had gone down, and that
the twilight too was fast passing away. At
length it became too late for reading. She
closed the book and sat musing. She was
preparing to leave the bower, when the fluttering of a bird, as he sought a place of safety
for the night, caused her to raise her eyes.
To her horror she then, for the first time,
saw the skull. She shrieked so loud, that her
father, hearing her, ran in haste to the spot,
where he found her on the ground. He car




THE NEW TERROR.


141


ried her into the house, but it was some time
before she recovered, and then only long
enough to express her fear, and again swooned.
1Her friends were much alarmed; and after
she again revived, Mr. Bland advised that
she should take an opiate; and that, if possible, she should be kept quite still until morning. With much persuasion, she was at length
induced to swallow what was offered to her;
shrieking out as she did so, "Death! death!"
"Ah, that is it," whispered Mrs. Finland to
her husband.   "I knew what would happen when the candle went out of itself, last
ilight."
The soothing draught soon put Elizabeth
into a deep sleep. Her fhther laid her quietly
upon her bed; where George and Mary kept
watch by her all night.
She was a lovely object, as she lay in her
deep repose. Her beautiful features were as
still as death, and almost as pale; and her
rich, dark curls fell profusely about her neck
and temples.
A lamp burned brightly upon a little stand,
and a vase of flowers, which Elizabeth had
placed there, scented the warm summer air.
The windows were entirely raised, and George
and Mary walked occasionally upon the ve




142     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
randa to beguile the tedious hours. Happily
for them their mother did not retire until
nearly midnight, and from that time till four,
when the morn began'to break, the time did
not pass very heavily; for Mr. Bland came in
at two, and felt the sleeper's pulse. He said
she would be quite well in the morning. Leo
came softly in, two or three times, as if to be
satisfied about his master's favorite. Once
he jumped into a chair close by Elizabeth's
head, and gazed intently into her face.
" Does not he look like a witch?" asked
Mary, in a whisper.
"I can't tell," answered George, "for I
never saw one; but there is truly something
very knowing in that cat's face. See, while
he looks so intently at Elizabeth, he scarcely
seems to breathe. You cannot hear him purr.
Did you see him come in with uncle?"
" Yes," whispered Mary, "and I did hope
we should not see his black face again tonight; though really he helps to keep our
eyes open; for I am sure, if I were ever so
sleepy, I could not go to sleep while that
strange animal was in the room."
Leo at length curled himself up in the chair
and appeared to be sleeping.
"How I hate that cat," said Mary, and





THE NEW TERROR.


143


speaking louder than before, Leo opened his
eyes and looked her full in the face.
"Did you see that?" asked George, in a
very low tone. " Leo will not forget that you
hate him. He certainly heard you, and looked as if he understood."
"That was strange, indeed," remarked
Mary, " I hope he will take himself off before
Elizabeth wakens."
When the clock struck four, Mary was surprised to hear a few soft notes from the birds
at that early hour; for in the house it was
perfectly dark; but going to the door, they
saw a faint light in the east. Leo, too, seemed to hear the birds, and rising up, he jumped
from the chair and walked briskly out into
the morning air.
"I will leave you now," said George to
Mary; " and when Elizabeth wakens, she will
not wonder when she finds only you beside
her."
Elizabeth slept on until the breakfast-bell
aroused her; and then she asked her sister
why she let her sleep so late. Mary said she
was a lazy girl; and so sleepy that she went
to bed with her clothes on. Elizabeth was
truly puzzled, when she found that she had





144     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
indeed slept all night just as she was dressed
the day before.
" What does all this mean?" she asked her
sister in surprise; for the events of the last
evening had at that time entirely vanished
from her mind; and their uncle had told
them that if, on waking, she did not remember
what had occurred, it would be best not to remind her of it. Just then Patty came to tell
the young ladies that the bell had rung, and
would they please come out to breakfast.
Nothing was said by the family, which
made any allusion to the cause of Elizabeth's
fright; and she went through the duties of
the day as usual. But when evening came,
she bent her steps again towards the bower.
George saw her going that way, and sus
pecting what had caused her alarm, ran after
and soon overtook her, and said that she must
turn aside and see how beautiful his vines
were. They did look very flourishing, indeed.
Elizabeth thought, and told her brother he
must go now with her, and see how shady
and quiet the bower was. George consented,
and on their way, told her that he had forgotten to mention that he had put the skull
there.
'The skull!" she repeated; and then told





THE NEW TERROR.


145


George that now she remembered all that had
happened. She said she was now not afraid,
since she knew he had placed it there; but
that it seemed to look at her last evening, and
she was horribly frightened.
George thought it prudent that she should
not see it again so soon; and told her he
thought the evening too damp for her to be
out; and taking her arm in his, gently led
his beautiful, but fragile sister back again to
the house.
When they reached the house, they observed their uncle looking intently over the meadows, as if expecting to see some interesting
object. They looked at him in surprise, and
asked what he found to excite his attention.
" I have just seen," he replied, " what has
interested me very much; for it is rarely that
I have seen an Ignis fiatus, or in plainer
terms, ' Jack-o'-lantern,' or 'Will with a wisp;'
for the most of my life has been spent in
town."
"-That is one reason, uncle," remarked
Elizabeth, "why you enjoy the country so
much; and if you look over these meadows
every evening, you will sometimes see the
strange light you speak of."
" Yes," said Mary, who was with her uncle,
10





146   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" that meadow," pointing to the one that must
be crossed before reaching the wood where
old Bess lived, " is famous for 'Jack-o'-lanterns.' We used to call them 'the witches'
lamps;' and, indeed, we used to think they
were real witches."
" That is true," said George, " and there
are very few in this region that will pass along
there at night, even in the winter, when there
are no such lights to be seen."
"There, there!" said Mr. Bland, as a light
rose slowly from the marsh. " See that-how
steadily it rises-now it skims along close to
the high grass. We would think it one of
the many fire-flies that are sporting there, if
its light did not continue so long. There it
goes. Ah! now it has vanished."
" Perhaps old Bess blew it out," said Elizabeth, playfully.
"I hope, my dear children," said Mr.
Bland, " that none of you now think there is
anything supernatural in such lights."
"We do know better," replied George,
"yet even now a strange feeling creeps over
me, when a 'Jack-o'-lantern' first rises. I
saw one, uncle, rise and continue to ascend,
until it reached nearly to the tops of the trees
in the wood; and then it went out. Oh! come





THE NEW TERRO.


147


here, Willie," said he, turning to his little
brother, "we are trying to see another of
your bright namesakes."
" I know," said the child, " it is that pretty
light you told me once was ' Will with a wisp.'
I wish they would come every night; but I
suppose he thinks there is no use for his lantern, now the fire-flies are so thick."
"That is the very time to look for him,
Willie," said Mr. Bland. " He always comes
in hot weather; and do you know what that
light really is?"
"No, sir," answered Willie, "but I know
it is not a man; for even a giant could not
hold his lamp so high as that one brother
George and I were looking at. It went almost as high as a shooting-star."
" A shooting-star is a very different thing, I
would have you to know, my dear little brother,"
said George, tossing him up in his arms.
"Yes, Willie," said Mary, " they are large
meteors, high up in the air. They almost always seem to come down, instead of rising
up. You will learn more about them when
you begin to study."
"That is true Willie," said George, "but
what is the real meaning of ignis fatus,
uncle?"





148   TIE FINLAND FAMILY.


" The term itself," replied Mr. Bland, " is
composed of two Latin words, which signify
'foolish fire;' or according to a second meaning of the word fatuus, 'insipid fire.  The
light is meteoric, and generally seen over
marshy grounds. It is supposed to be caused
by some inflammable or luminous gas; generated by the decomposition of vegetable or
animal substances. I have heard of persons
mistaking it for a lamp carried by some one;
and following on, until led into the swamp,
they have completely lost their way; and
some are said to have lost their lives by walking into quicksands and mire. The name is
a very appropriate one-foolish fire-insipid
fire; for its light is without heat, and therefore a harmless or insipid fire. For the same
reason, the term ignis fatuus is applied to
anything that deceives one under the appearance of false light; flashing up from time to
time, and leading astray the heedless and infatuated; but never fulfilling, in real value,
what is expected by its votaries, from the
promise of its first appearance."
"I have heard that these lights are oftener
seen in grave-yards, than anywhere else,"
remarked Mary, " and some people call them
' lamps of the dead.' "





THE NEW TERROR.


149


" I do not believe they appear oftener there
than anywhere else," replied Mr. Bland, " for
when grave-yards are upon high and dry
grounds, they are seldom if ever seen. The
locality for the ignis fatuus must be damp,
as the gas from the decomposition of animals
would not be luminous, as it passed off, if unmixed with the damp vapors which arise from
meadows and marshes.   But the sites for
burial-places are very often selected in low
moist grounds; because such ground is more
easily dug. I have known some ignorant
people that would not go through such places
at night for anything you could offer them;
and would go much out of their way to avoid
them."
1 What for, uncle," asked little Willie, who
had been listening attentively to all that had
been said.
" Only because they are silly, and do not
understand a little more of natural science.
But you, my dear boy, will study such things,
and then you will be able to give a reason
for everything you see."
When Mrs. Finland knew what had frightened her daughter so much the evening before, she begged Mr. Bland to take the " ho'rrid thing," and bury it; for she was really





150     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
afraid to have it in the house; and, moreover,
she thought it wrong that any part of a human
skeleton should be so publicly exhibited.
Mr. Bland readily yielded to her entreaties;
and the next day placed the skull in the
ground, where it was never discovered.





X.


FoR many days after Elizabeth's fright, her
mother was very anxious about her health.
She continued to look very pale, and was
more serious than usual. Mary said she sometimes talked in her sleep, and was often very
restless. Her daily duties, however, were as
punctually attended to as before.
Still Mrs. Finland watched her with a
mother's anxious eye, and every kind attention was shown this darling child. Mr. Finland proposed taking her to the sea-side, with
Anna Mason for company. To this arrangement Mrs. Finland cheerfully acceded; and
determined to find out whether Anna would
accompany her, before she spoke to Elizabeth.
But alas! the next morning this pleasant
plan was entirely changed by an unlucky
raven, which Mrs. Finland was so unfortunate
as to see flying over the house. This, she said,





152   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


was " a sure sign of death;" and her solicitude
for Elizabeth was greatly increased.
She communicated her sorrows to her kind.
husband; but he only confirmed her sad forebodings, by saying that a little bird flew in at
the window a little while before, and not
seeming to regard him in the least, perched
upon the looking-glass, and after a few moments flew directly out. This, this, they said,
was dreadful; " the surest of all signs that
there would soon be a death in the family;" and
they actually wept together, and mourned over
their dear child, as if she were already dead.
Mr. Bland could not but observe the gloom
that clouded their faces, and hoped his brother
would communicate his troubles to him; but
not a word was said upon the subject. The
young people, too, seemed to feel the trouble
which depressed their parents, and went more
quietly and softly about than usual.
But their solicitude was after a few days
turned to another object, when George came
home one evening quite sick with a fever.
All was consternation and alarm with these
doting parents; and now they discovered that
it was their beloved son they were about to
lose. Under this melancholy impression, they
gave themselves so entirely up to despair,





THE REVENGE.


153


that they were incapable of rendering him
any assistance; and but for Mr. Bland's
calmness, and judicious and timely prescriptions, their worst fears might have been literally realized. A physician was immediately
sent for; and Elizabeth, with patient attention, stood ready to assist her uncle in administering to her brother's comfort. The Doctor
soon arrived, for Jim had been a swift messenger this time. He approved of Mr. Bland's
prescription, and left medicine to be administered through the night.
" But where is Mary?" asked Mr. Bland of
little Patty, who stood ready to execute any
command.
" Yes, where is she?" asked Elizabeth anxiously.
Mary, to whom her mother had communicated her sad forebodings in the morning, believed that the time had really come for their
fulfilment. She had never sincerely endeavored to overcome her superstitious feelings;
and it now occurred to her, that Bess might
tell her of some charm, or herb, or something
else, that would benefit her brother. Accordingly she hastened to old Hardicus, and asked
him if he would go and see "' the witch" for
her.





154   TIHE FINLAND FAMILY.


" Lors a' marcy, missy," said the old negro,
"you aint in arnest?  I nebber git back
agin from dat ar place-de"--
"Now you talk very foolish," said Mary,
interrupting him, "I did not think a man
like you would be afraid of a woman."
"No, missy, I no feard of woman, but I
feard of witch!"
"Will you go if your wife will go with
you?" asked Mary, anxiously.
" No, no, Missy; for Judy be black jis like
me."
When Mary found that neither by entreaties nor bribes nor threats, she could move the
old man, she declared with much impatience,
that she would go by herself.
" Way tru dat ar long, dark woods, Missy?"
asked Hardicus.
" Yes," answered Mary, " for my brother
is very ill, and it will not do to wait any
longer, because it is sunset now."
" Lors 'a marcy, Miss Mary," said Judy,
running from the house towards them. "I
aint one bit afeard. I'll go long o' you!"
" You git long, Judy!" exclaimed the old
man. " You shan't go not a step widout me.
I'll go long too, cause if wolf come, he scar
you, but I no be feard o' wolf."





T ii- IREVENGE. 1.


155


" What den is you feard of?" asked Judy,
laughing heartily.
"Ob de witch, to be sure, and so Judy
feard too, Missy, but she won't let on."
"If dat's all," said Judy, " come along,
we'll see."
Away they all went at a brisk walk; for
old Hardicus could step as quick as any one.
They had a bright twilight to guide them;
and Mary hoped to return before it was quite
dark, and before they would miss her at home.
As they passed through the meadows and entered the thick wood, they began to imagine
that they heard strange sounds, and saw shadows flitting among the trees.
"What was that?" asked MVary, as she
stopped to listen.
" 0 nottin but a tree-toad!" said Judy.
" Come 'long, Iardicus, you look jis as if you
thought the debble was a-comin; what you
stop dar for? cause you feard to come any
furder? he, he, he."
' You git out de way yourself, you black
nigger," said the old man, " Judy, I say stop!"
"What is the matter?" inquired Mary,
looking back, for she had out-walked them
both. "I'll wait for you. Come along, Hardicus, come Judy, pray don't laugh any more."





1563  THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" I can't help it, Miss Mary. Hardicus is
sich a fool, he! he! he!"
" Do you know the way to her hut?" asked
Mary anxiously. " It is so long since I was
there, that I fear that I shall not be able to
find it."
" I know de way," said IIardicus, "for I
come here last week wid massa Keene, to cut
a log for de saw-mill; close by old Bess's
hut."
They hurried on, and as they turned from
the path through the wood in the direction of
the hut, her great dog leaped towards them
with a thrilling bark, which made Mary trenble like a leaf.
' Off there," cried a shrill voice, which
they all well knew; and presently Bess crept
from behind a cedar bush, and raising her
brawny form, she eyed the party as if puzzled
to determine who or what they were.
She, however, was the first to speak, and
asked what they were after.
" Don't you know us, Mrs. Nisbey?"9 asked
Mary, in a faltering voice.
' Know ye! Be sure I know ye; but what
be ye looking afther at this time o' day?
There be no lampkins here now."
" AI, no!" said Mary, faintly, " we come





THE REVENGE.


157


to get your help for something dearer than all
the lambs in the world. My brother-"
" Well, I knowd it afore ever ye spake.
Did yer mither sind ye?"
"No," answered Mary, in a more confident voice, "I came of myself; for I know
that you have more knowledge of herbs than
any other person; and" - " Yis, yis," said
Bess hurriedly, " more than any other body in
this univarsal world."
" I know dat," said Hardicus, for the first
time feeling sufficient courage to speak.
" You git dem to help you dat won't help no)ody else. Yis, yis: I know."
"Hush yer black mouth," said Bess, with
much contempt. " I wonder what ye know
about me!"
" 0! nottin, ma'am, nottin," muttered out
Hardicus, as he wiped the huge drops from
his face.
" What did ye bring these black fools along
wi' ye for? They look jist like imps. Did
ye think I would run off wi' ye, if ye come
alone? Yer a beautiful gal, and so was I
once, but" -  And she began to sing with
much furor a wild, startling strain.
Mary, now truly anxious to be on the way
Itone, began again to mention her business.





158   TiHE FINLAND FAMILY.


" I want to get your advice."
"There now," exclaimed the cunning woman, interrupting her, " didn't I know he was
sick?"
And Mary wondered how she could have
known; forgetting that she had just told her.
" 'Tis massa Georgie; not massa Willie,"
said Judy.
"I say I knowd it, ye great fool. Do ye
think ye can tell me ony thing?" yelled the woman, raising a long stick which she had in her
hand. Then turning to Mary, she continued;
" Poor misther George! he is a blessed young
man; and may the saints presarve him---
and saint Patrick keep him-and the holy
mither nurse him-and the priest absolve him
-and may he be git well afore he is sick-"
"He is very sick," said Mary, interrupting
her in this effusion of good wishes, " and if
you know of anything to stop his fever, I will
give you money for your trouble, if you will
get it soon for me."
" I want none o' yer money, yer gold, or yer
siller; the de'il may have it all, and to purgatory is it I wish it was. Poor, poor, dear
misther George-a blessed name of good king
George-O! he's a beautiful young man, he
is; and I will give ye a yarb for him, and he





THE REVENGE.


159


will never be sick ony more. I was jist
afther getting it when ye come. It grows behind yon bush; but ye must be aisy here till
I gits it; for ye must not see where it grows."
So saying, she strode away, over the bushes
and brambles, with Brutus at her heels.
" She is de debble," whispered the old
negro; " but I glad she lub massa Georgy; for
she kin make him well, I know dat."
" Hush! dar she comes," said Judy; and
Bess was soon with them, bringing something
wrapped up in large mullin leaves. She stood
a few yards from them, and sprinkled something over the plant, muttering a low incantation all the time.
"Now, mind ye," she began, "Lye must do
jest as I tell ye. Don't let nobody tetch it,
no, not even yer own hand. Ye must put it
into a pint of wather, and bile it down to a
little cup full; and then do ye give it him wi'
yer own hand, and don't ye let him be done
till he gits it all down. May all the saints be
wi' ye, and make him drink the whole on it;
and I promise ye, he will never be sick ony
more."
" Here's a dollar for your trouble. And
shall I put in these mullin leaves, too?" asked
Mary.





160   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" No, no!" answered Bess, angrily. " The
de'il take yer money. Can't ye know vhat I
say? Ye be no fool. Can't ye remimber?
Shake out what's in thim mullin leaves, and
stir the pot with this stick."
Saying this, she broke a crooked stick from
a bush of witch-hazel, which grew near, and
handed it to Mary, who took all eagerly from
her skinny hand. And giving her many
thanks and promises of reward, they were
just turning to leave the spot, when Brutus
came from the thicket, with the long pet
snake entwined about his neck, and its head
stretched out over his ear, as if endeavoring
to find out what was going on. Mary and
Judy screamed aloud and ran off; while Hardicus stood as if turned to stone. " Be offwi'
yer sel," squalled the hag; " be off, I say, or
Brutus 'ill help ye off."
When Judy heard Bess, she hurried back,
and taking Hardicus by the hand, wheeled
him round suddenly, and he, as if just awaking, started off with his wife as fast as she
could wish. Mary had reached home before
them, and was trying, with Patty's help, to
kindle a fire; for the evening was warm, and
the fire had been allowed to go out. Old
IIardicus sat down on the door-step of the





THE REVENGE.


161


kitchen, and as soon as he got breath he began
to speak, while Judy went in and assisted to
make a fire.
" I teld you, Judy, dat she is kin to de debble; for dint you see de old sarpent hisself, roun dat black dog's neck? I tell you
dis nigger nebber go dar agin! I knowd it
-I knowd it-I knowd it!"
" Git 'long home, man, and go to bed,"
said Judy. " You scard half to death. I be
'long byme by."
" I don't go to bed dis night 'afore you, I
tell you. I stay here till you go 'long too."
"He h hehe," laughed Judy, in a low, soft,
subdued tone; while she hung a little pot,
containing a measured pint of water, over the
fire, which was now blazing brightly.
Mary had sat down, while the fire kindled;
for her fatigue and anxiety had much exhausted her strength.
" Come, Miss Mary," said Judy, " put in
de yarb."
" No, not till the water boils-that is what
she said-in a pint of boiling water."
" Dat she (lid," said the old man.
" I dint kear say dat, 'deed Miss Mary,"
said Judy.
By this time it was quite dark; and Mr.
11





162     TIHE FINLAND FAMILY.
Bland, hearing voices in the house, went into
the kitchen, hoping to find Mary. His unexpected entrance threw her into a complete
flurry. She sprang up as he approached, and
covered the mullin leaves with her bonnet.
" Ah! Mary," said he, " are you here? I
am glad to see you; for your sister and I have
been wondering much what had become of
you. How could you be so unfeeling, as to
leave us to take the whole care of George?
Elizabeth is not very well; and your parents
are so overcome with their fearful apprehensions, that they have shut themselves up in
their bed-room, and are utterly unable to assist
us. Your brother has a high fever, and I fear
he will be very sick. He is now, however,
asleep, and Elizabeth is watching him."
" 0! uncle," said Mary, with much warmth,
" pray do not call me unfeeling. I have not
been idle, though absent."
Her words, and the earnest manner in
which she spoke, surprised Mr. Bland; and
he said very kindly, " Well, dear, where have
you been, and what have you been doing?"
This was an inquiry which Mary would
gladly have avoided; and hesitating, she answered, "I have been getting some herbs, to
cure my dear brother."





THE REVENGE.


163


" Where are they, my child? Are they in
that pot?" asked her uncle, with much earnestness.
" Not yet, sir," she stammered out.
" Then let me see them, Mary, and I will
help you to prepare them, if they are really
medicinal."
"I am sorry to appear rude to you, my
good, kind uncle," said Mary, almost in tears;
" but I would rather you would have nothing
to do with them."
"This is strange, my dear," remarked Mr.
Bland. " Do you suppose that I shall allow
anything to be given to your brother, without
first knowing what it is?"
" There is a little secret about this," said
Mary, coaxingly, " and I hope my dear uncle
will trust to my judgment this once; and if
George is not better to-morrow, I shall bear
the blame."
" There can be no harm," said Mr. Bland,
good humoredly, " in my looking at the herbs.
Where are they?."
" Well, you may see them, if you promise
not to touch them."
" I do promise, if by doing so I shall injure
them."
" Promise," said Mary, earnestly.





164   TIHE FINLAND FAMILY.


"I have given all the promise I can. I
must see the herbs," replied Mr. Bland.
Mary then, reluctantly, took up the mullin
leaves; and shaking them, the plant fell upon
the table, spreading out, fresh and beautiful,
and full of shining berries.
Mr. Bland examined it for a few moments,
with his eyes only, as Judy put a light on
the table; and then said calmly,
" How are you to prepare this? I suppose
that after it is steeped in the hot water, you
are to make an outward application of it, to
produce perspiration."
" Oh no, dear uncle!" said Mary, confidently, " it is to be boiled in that pint of water,
down to a small quantity, about a tea-cup full,
and that George is to drink."
" Drink!" exclaimed Mr. Bland, " oh,
Mary, how thankful I am that I came here in
time. Poor, dear child, who has thus imposed upon you?"'
" De debble," said old Hardicus.
But Mary, disregarding the old man, and
not at all alarmed at what her uncle had said
-so great faith had she in the famous herbalist from whom she had procured the plant
-said, " My dear uncle, just wait until tomorrow, before you decide upon the virtues





THE REVENGE.


1G5


of this plant. When it is prepared, you shall
administer the draught yourself; and then,
when you see the effect, you may pass your
opinion. The water is boiling and it must be
in."
So saying, with the little crooked stick
which Bess had given her, in one hand, and
a spoon in the other, she took up the plant,
and was about depositing it in the pot, when
Mr. Bland stepping before her, snatched it
away.
It is easier to imagine than to describe the
horror and disappointment depicted in the
poor girl's face. All her trouble had been for
nothing. The charm was broken-the plant
had been touched by human hands--it was
now of no use. She sat down with such an
expression of despair upon her features, that
Mr. Bland's feelings almost unnerved him, as
he looked at her.
" My beloved Mary," he said, " under
what fatal delusion are you laboring? I insist upon knowing who has designedly or
ignorantly imposed upon you?"
" Dar now, dint I tell you so?" chimed
in old Hardicus.
"This plant," continued Mr. Bland, "is
the deadly nightshade; one of the most





166   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


poisonous plants in the world. A small quantity would put your poor brother beyond all
earthly suffering very soon. Yes, my poor
child, I don't wonder that you are pale and
mute with horror. A merciful providence
has prevented you from destroying our beloved George. But tell me, my child, where
you found this plant, and how you gathered
it without knowing what it was?"
Mary looked as one struck dumb. The
blood had entirely left her cheeks, which a
few moments before were glowing from exercise and hope. She burst into tears, and for
a while her sobs prevented her from making
any reply.
Judy cried out, and old Hardicus blew
his nose, and wiped his eyes; while little
Patty stood gazing on, in utter amazement.
At length, when Mary had become sufficiently composed, she communicated to her
uncle all that has been related of her visit
to " the witch."
"My poor, dear child!" said Mr. Bland,
sitting down by her, and kindly taking her
hand; while Judy snatching off the pot, threw
out the water from it with much energy, and
set it away; and Hardicus got up, shuffled
about, and coming close to Mr. Bland, stood





THE REVENGE.


167


up with his back against the wall, to hear
what his " good massa" had to say.
" I see through the whole of it," continued
Mr. Bland. " The wretch has been actuated
by revenge-a murderous revenge. You remember how your brother once offended her;
and this proves that she never has forgiven
him. Her pretended sympathy, when you
told her he was sick, and her flattering praises
of him, were only meant to deceive you; and
by telling you not to let any one touch the
plant, she thought to keep it from being seen
by any one who would know what it was, and
thus felt sure of her victim. No doubt she
is at this moment exulting in her malicious
schemes. True, indeed, was one part of her
story; that he would never be sick again."
"Yis, yis!" murmured Hardicus.
" Oh! my good uncle," Mary at length
sobbed out, " how shall I ever thank you for
preserving my precious brother from such a
horrid death?"
"Thank God, thank God, my poor child.
Yes! if ever you felt thankful in your life, it
should be this night. But, my dear, you have
learned a lesson which I hope you will never
forget; that is this, not to trust the advice of
such a poor wicked hag, when you have pa




168   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


rents and friends to ask counsel of. What
has passed this evening we had better not
mention; and I will put this plant in water,
to preserve it fresh until morning, and then
you shall read a description of the night-shade,
and if it does not correspond in every particular with this, then you may say that I am
an ignorant old man."
Mary felt grateful to think that her uncle
would not expose her folly.
Mr. Bland observed with pain her fruitless
attempts to compose her feelings; and after
kissing her, advised her to retire for the night;
saying that he intended to stay with George
until morning.
When Elizabeth entered her chamber, she
found Mary upon her knees. Her face was
covered with her hands; she seemed earnestly engaged in prayer, and her convulsive
sobs almost alarmed her gentle sister. Elizabeth's steps were so light and noiseless, that
Mary was unconscious of her presence. She
therefore left the room; and falling on her
knees in her own little closet, prayed earnestly for every blessing for herself and for every
one dear to her; particularly commending
her precious brother to the kind mercy of her
Heavenly Father.





THE REVENGE.


169


A long time elapsed; and when she again
entered the chamber, Mary was sleeping.
She undressed quietly, and stole softly to bed.
Mary started; and raising herself up, said,
0 O it is only you, my sweet Lizzy;" and
throwing her arms around her neck said,
"Let me weep here, and tell you all my
trouble."
She then communicated to Elizabeth all
that had taken place. Elizabeth was shocked
and grieved, and trembled as Mary proceeded.
At length, she wept and laughed by turns,
until Mary began to be more concerned for
her sister than for herself, and repented that
she had troubled her with the startling story.
"Praise the Lord, 0 my soul!" at length
ejaculated Elizabeth, "Praise the Lord, 0
my soul, and forget not all His benefits."
Mary lay down quietly by her side, and
Elizabeth went on" Who saveth thy life from destruction, and
crowneth thee with mercy and loving kindness. Praise thou the Lord, 0 my soul."
And soon these lovely and loving sisters
had forgotten all their troubles, and were
sweetly sleeping in each other's arms.
Hardicus and Judy went to their cabin.
Mr. Bland had told them that he did not wish





1)i,  TI1E FIiNLAND FA M ILY.


them to tell any one of what Bess had done,
until George was well enough for something
to be done in the matter. The poor old man,
Hardicus, was too rmuch frightened to go to
bed very soon. He went to the barn and got
the pitch-fork, and placed it with the points up
in the chimney of his room; and burned some
tar on a shingle, and carried it all about
under the bed and in their little cupboard.
He then turned his shirt wrong side out, and
placed his shoes together, with the heels towards the bed. He felt provoked with Judy,
because she laughed at him, and because she,would go to bed with her clothes right side
out. But Judy knelt at her bedside before
she went to sleep, and then felt safe and happy, until the chickens, their nearest neighbors, began to crow and cackle.
Early the next morning, Mr. Bland called
Mary to his room. He had put the plant in
water to preserve its freshness. He handed
her a book with a leaf folded down, and
placed the plant on the table before her. He
told her that he wished her to read the description of the plant and satisfy herself.
1 0 my kind uncle," she replied, "1I am
perfectly satisfied with what you have said.
My head aches so severely that I cannot read.





THE REVENGE.


171


I trust entirely to your word; and if I had
known before that you had studied Botany, I
should have saved myself a long walk, and
much misery and shame."
" Well, Mary, it is said, that dear-bought
experience is the best; and yours has truly
been dearly bought. I hope you will hereafter be more ready to confide in those who
are capable of advising you, than to put
your trust in ignorance and vice. But this
wicked creature shall not be allowed to
go at liberty, to molest the neighborhood,
and injure and destroy property, and to fill
with terror the weak-minded. I shall take
some fit opportunity to bring her to punishment; and if I could prove that she designedly gave you that poisonous plant, it would
be a crime deserving the utmost severity. I
will consult some of the gentlemen around,
and then we shall do her justice, I promise
you. She has become insufferable, and something must be done with her. Her viciousness, in endeavoring to destroy the calf,
ought not to have been overlooked; and the
death of Lizzy's lamb I can never forget. I
have no doubt but others have quite as much
cause of complaint against her as we have."
" Yes, I know they have," said Mary, " 1





172   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


have heard neighbor More, and others complain of her very much. She helps herself to
turkeys, geese, ducks and chickens; and even
little pigs, if she likes. But we have always
been afraid to speak to her, or to punish her
in any way, so much has our superstitious
dread of her prevailed over our better judgment. If she could be removed from among
us we should all have great cause to rejoice."
" I will have her attended to," said Mr.
Bland, " as soon as George recovers. But I
wish, when your head is better, that you would
read the description of this plant. It would
interest you very much, and might perhaps
give you a relish for a delightful science, of
which you are now ignorant; and I will help
you to study Botany, with much pleasure,
Mary, if you choose."
" I should be very much pleased to do so, sir,
and I hope I shall never forget the feelings I
experienced last night, or your kindness; and
particularly the merciful interposition of Divine Providence, which prevented me from
rashly dealing death to my beloved brother."
Here she burst into tears, and her uncle
left her.





XI.


WHEN the family assembled at breakfast
the next morning, there were others who looked pale besides Elizabeth. She looked calm
and patient; with a beautiful smile illuminating her mild countenance and lovely features. Mrs. Finland looked like despair personified. She said she had had no rest; for
when she slept her dreams were so frightful, that
she exerted herself to keep awake, rather than
sleep and have such dreams. She was very
careful not to tell them before breakfast;
fully persuaded that if she did they would
" certainly come true."
Mr. Finland's care-worn and anxious countenance told plainly, that he had not slept
enough to dream; and Mary had such cause
for grief as she had never before known.
Mr. Bland was calm and collected; though
he had not closed his eyes to sleep. lie found





174   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


that George's fever was still high, and anxiously awaited the arrival of the physician.
Mr. Finland thanked his brother, almost
with tears, for his kind attention to his poor
George; hoping that everything might be
done for him, while there was any hope; that
they might not have to reproach themselves
for any neglect, after his dear son's death.
Mr. Bland spoke soothingly to him and told
him, that as yet he saw no reason to apprehend
any serious result from George's illness, and
that every attention should be paid him that was
in the power of medical skill or good nursing.
But all did not seem to remove, in the least
degree, from Mr. Finland's heart or countenance, the deep gloom with which superstition always burdens its votaries.
George's fever had increased, when the
Doctor arrived; and more active medicine
was resorted to. Mr. Bland now felt more
anxious concerning him, and never left his
bedside during that day. Mr. and Mrs. Finland did not give way to their feelings so
much during the daytime; for they had various duties which required their attention.
But no sooner were the pressing cares of the
day at an end, than their superstitious fears
came upon them with increased weight; for





THE RECOVERY.


175


then they found time to relate and compare
all the signs and ill omens which had been
observed during the day. Then they gave
vent to their grief and despondency; and it
would be tedious and useless to enumerate
all the signs and omens, which they seemed
to remember in order to torment each other.
Had these mistaken parents known how to
pray for their beloved child, during those
hours which were spent worse than idly, in
believing a lie rather than in trusting to the
goodness of an All-wise God, they might have
found the comfort which their hearts needed,
and been prepared for the worst, and resigned
to the will of Heaven. But alas! this was
not the case: nor did they experience the
blessed and holy hope, which springs from
trust in God, until long after this time.
George's fever continued very high for
several days, and Mr. Bland had many anxious moments about him. He feared that
George was not prepared to die, and earnestly prayed that he might be restored to health.
His anxiety, however, was counterbalanced
by entire trust in the wisdom of Him, wbo
" doeth all things well;" and his unwearied
attention and calmn deportment told plainly,
upon whom lie lhad cast his care.





176   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


Donald Mason was also very assiduous in
attending upon his sick friend; thus greatly
relieving the good Mr. Bland, and comforting
George, who was very anxious, lest his kind
uncle should do too much for his own strength.
We must not omit to mention that the very
night after Mary's visit to Bess, as Mr. Bland
and Jim were bathing the patient's burning
hands and feet, the boy nodded to Mr. Bland,
and pointed to some object in the yard. The
full moon made everything distinctly visible;
and creeping along close by the lilacs that led
from the meadow-gate to the back-door, there
was a dark figure, tall, and tattered in appearance. Nearer, and nearer, with noiseless
step it advanced, until, close under the window where the sick youth lay, it paused and
skulked among the thick shrubbery that grew
abundantly by the side of the house and near
the open window. Mr. Bland's attention was
again attracted to the meadow-gate, over
which a great dog bounded and was in a moment checked in his further approach by a
low murmur from the form "under the window.
The sound was so low, that Mr. Bland wondered how it could have been heard even at
that short distance. The dog, however, seemed to understand perfectly, and crouched





THE IRECOVERY.


177


down in the grass. All was now still; and
if Mr. Bland had not felt sure, from the terror expressed in Jim's countenance, that he
too had seen all that passed, he might have
thought that he had only imagined it.
" Bess!" said the boy, trembling.
" Be perfectly still," whispered Mr. Bland;
but even that soft whisper aroused the halfsleeping patient, who called loudly in his delirium for " Water, water-I'm burningburning-put me in the water-take away the
fire-what was it-who?"
Thus he continued, until sufficiently aroused
to drink plentifully of the cooling draught,
which his uncle held to his lips.
Mr. Bland's whole attention was now engrossed with George; but when after a long
time he again became quiet, and fell into a
troubled sleep, his uncle's thoughts once more
turned to the object that had so much interested him. Jim had been sent, while George
was awake, to replenish the oil in one of the
lamps, and had returned with that and a little tea and bread and butter, which Mary had
directed him to hand her uncle about midnight. Nothing was seen of the strange figure again, that night. When she left her
hiding-place, or hoow, no one knew, and what
12





1T78    THIE FINLANDI I AMTL, Y.


was her reason for coming Mr. Bland could
not conjecture; unless it was to find out for
herself, whether her deadly prescription had
done its work.
The next morning Mr. Bland asked Jim
what he thought Bess could have wanted
there.
"I dun no, sir; 'spose she lookin arter
chickens. I 'spec she dident find none, cause
uncle Hardicus lock 'um all up since she tie
de calf."
But Mr. Bland was confirmed in his opinion that she came to satisfy herself respecting
George, when Jim, brushing about in the
room that morning, handed him a roll of
leaves, which he had found on the floor near
the window, under which Bess had concealed
herself. A  woodbine had climbed nearly
over this window; and it was an easy matter,
while George was calling for all the attention
of his uncle, for Bess to peep in and take
some safe opportunity to let fall the soft leaves
upon the carpet, without being observed.
There was no other way to account for this
roll, which when opened proved to be a fresh
supply of the poisonous plant, which she had
the night before given Mary.
Whlen Donald was told of this strange af




THE RECOVERY.


179.


fair, he expressed quite as much surprise as
Mr. Bland felt.
After some days Mr. and Mrs. Finland,
finding that their son still continued to livenotwithstanding all the " true signs" that had
occurred to convince them that there was to
be a death in the family-began to hope that
he might yet be better They both remained
longer each day in his room, until they found
that he rather grew better than worse, and
then nothing could exceed their devoted attention to their darling child. Now the terror of seeing him die had left them, and they
watched his gradual improvement with a
thrill of gratitude they had never before experienced. Mr. Bland had the comfort, too,
during George's illness, of having all his directions particularly attended to by Mary and
Elizabeth, who were devotedly attached to
their dear brother.
Elizabeth's delicacy of constitution would
often oblige her to retire early; but Mary,
whose health was very firm, was enabled to
persevere unceasingly in her attentions. Her
slow and cautious step, and sad expression of
countenance was not unmarked by her kind
uncle; and he would cheer and encourage
her as much as he could, reminding her how





180     TIIE FINLAND FAMILY.
thankful she should be, that George was still
living.
" True, true," the poor girl would say, 1" but
when I remember how I would have murdered him, if it had not been for you, my precious uncle, I cannot yet forgive myself;"
and then the tears would come, and she would
go quickly away, and remain for a time shut
up in her own room.
Several times Donald observed this extreme
sensitiveness in AMary; while the gentle Elizabeth was calm, and apparently unmoved by
the illness of her brother. He wondered
much at this, as he had always thought Mary
almost too gay and thoughtless. Now she
seemed entirely changed, and this change made
her tenfold more attractive in his eyes, than
she had ever before appeared. Once when
she was with him in her brother's room, and
Donald had a good opportunity while George
slept, he asked her why she appeared so compl]etely miserable; but all that Mary answered
was, " Don't ask me-I dare not tell you"and abruptly left the room, weeping. This
strange conduct only made the youth wonder
still more, and Mary was always in his mind.
Anxiety and hope alternately prevailed in
tlhe 1hearts of these loving friends of George,





THE RECOVERY.


181


until the Doctor pronounced him convalescent. Donald's assistance was no longer needed, at night; but he was particularly careful
to step in every day, to inquire about his
friend, even after George had become quite
well; so that the neighbors began to hint
that it was " the lily or the rose"-as these
sisters were sometimes called-which attracted
him still that way.
Mary's kind attention to George was still
remarked by every one, particularly by Donald; but no one knew the cause of this devoted fondness, except her good uncle and her
sweet sister. Even after he was thought to
be out of danger, and watchers were no longer
required, she would rise softly from her bed
in the stillness of night, when every one else
was sleeping, and go into the room of her
brother, to find out if he was resting quietly.
One morning before George was well enough
to leave his room, his uncle stept in, as usual,
to ask howhe had rested; and was surprised
to find him tossing upon his bed, with a flushed cheek and a wild look. He spoke to him,
but at first received no answer. He then
shook his hand gently, saying, " My dear boy,
I am sorry to find you so restless this morning.
When I left you last night, you were entirely





1iS2   T ii F, FINLAND FAMILTY.


free from fever, and sleeping as sweetly as
ever you did in your life."
" Yes, my dear uncle, I felt almost well
last night; but I am miserable now; yes,
very wretched indeed, this morning."
His voice and manner had a certain mysterious expression, which quite startled Mr.
Bland; and feeling his pulse, he found, that
although it indicated no fever, yet it was
irregular.
" My dear George, has anything happened
during the night, to frighten you? You look
not quite like yourself; and, certainly, do
not act like the the good, patient George, that
you were when very sick."
Before George had time to reply, Mary entered with Patty, bringing in a rich bowl of
coffee, and some little dainties, which she had
prepared with her own hand for his breakfast.
She expressed her wonder that he had not attempted to wash, and comb his hair, as he
had done for several days past; and laughingly asked, what her dear uncle had been
telling him, to make him look so sad?
"Ah! Mary," said he, "I cannot taste
your nice breakfast. I am not getting well
so fast as you think. I now begin to feel sure
that I shall not live."





THE RECOVERY.


18 -

So saying, he covered his face with his
thin, pale hands, and turned toward the wall.
Not a word was spoken for some time, and
George lay perfectly still.
At length Mary, with an effort, said,
" What can make you think so, my dear
George? I am sure you are much better than
you were some days ago; and I hope in a few
days you will begin to recover your strength,
if you will let me be your cook."
" I hoped so yesterday," he replied, in a
solemn and dejected manner. "I thought so
too; but now I know I shall never be well
again!"
"This conduct, my dear George," said his
uncle, "is very strange; and if I did not
hope and believe that you had conquered your
early superstitions, I should think that something of this kind was tormenting you."
George turned, and looked so earnestly in
Mr. Bland's face, that the good man now felt
convinced that he had struck upon the true
cause of his nephew's disquiet. However, the
poor youth said not a word, and his sister again
offered her delicious repast; but George motioned her away, saying it was of no use, lie
could not taste it.
"Well," said Mr. Bland, "if you intend





184     THE FINLAND FAMIILY.
really to starve yourself to death, you can
very easily do so in your present weak state
of body; but if you will act like my own good
George again, and take your old uncle's advice, you will not thus slight your sister's
kindness."
George groaned, but said nothing; and
Mary addressing her uncle, remarked,
" I was afraid I should not find George so
well this morning, for he was talking in his
sleep last night, and-"
" True, true," said George, interrupting his
sister, " and no wonder that I did. All! if
you knew the cause!"
" And why can't we know the cause?" asked his uncle. " What objection can you have
to telling us?
A flush passed over George's pale face, as
Mr. Bland spoke, and Mary thought he shuddered.
" Ah!" said she, tenderly, " I was fearful
that something troubled you; and so when I
heard you talking last night, I thought, perhaps, you were awake and wanted something;
but when I came up to your bed, and found
by the dim light of the lamp, that you were
sleeping, I did not speak to you, but went
away more softly than I came."





THE RECOVERY.


185


" Oh!" exclaimed George, grasping his
sister's hand, as she sat on the side of the bed
by him, " Oh! was it you, Mary? pray tell
me truly, was it you?"
"I!" exclaimed Mary, startled by his sudden earnestness, " where? when? George,
really you frighten me. My dear uncle," she
whispered to Mr. Bland, "is George in his
right mind?"
"Was it you, Mary," again began her
brother, "who came softly to my bed, and
looked in my face last night? Tell me! tell
me!"
"Yes, George," she answered, while her
eyes glistened with emotion. "I did, and
what of all that?"
" Much, much, oh! everything, Mary. My
poor, weak mind changed you into the ghiost
of Capt. Mason. When I saw the apparition,
as I supposed you to be, approach so near as
to breathe on my face, I closed my eyes, and
when I opened them again, it was just gliding
out of the door. I thought you were as tall as a
man, and your head and all looked to me as
white as a sheet. I heard not a step; for the
blood seemed to rush into my brain, and I
felt entirely confused.  I could not have
spoken to save my life."





186     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
Mary covered her face and burst into tears,
as she sobbed out, "How unfortunate I am!
Oh! how unfortunate! I fear I shall be the
death of my precious brother, yet."
It was now George's turn to look surprised;
as he turned and asked his uncle, why Mary
felt so deeply.
" Mary will feel quite satisfied," he replied,
"if you will partake of the nice breakfast she
has brought you."  And Mary, wiping her
eyes, and again presenting the nice things,
smiled contentedly; while George accepted
them, and relished every morsel. He felt
much refreshed and benefited by his breakfast; and before his uncle left him he said
earnestly to him,
"I should be inclined to ridicule you,
George, if I did not know that the weak state
of your body has some effect upon your mind;
and therefore I will keep both my sarcasm
and my lecture until you recover your
strength."
George's pale face was covered for a moment with a rosy blush, while his uncle addressed him, and then he begged that his
folly might be once more forgotten; promising that it was the last trouble of that sort
he would ever make.





THE CIECOV ERY.


187


Mr. and Mrs. Finland were quite astonished
at their son's recovery. They could not at
once bring themselves to believe that he would
really get quite well, after all the "certain
signs" which they said they never knew to fail
before. They both regained, in some degree,
their former cheerfulness, and a momentary
feeling of gratitude to God touched their
hearts, as they reflected upon their dear son's
deliverance from a dangerous disease. They
even began to hope that there was not so much
truth in signs as they had supposed; and as
Mary, in her penitence and sorrow, after her
mistaken visit to Bess, had burned the dream
book, they had now nothing to refer to, and
almost thought it might be best to forget what
they did remember of this blind guide.
They were, moreover, often present when
Mr. Bland reproved the children for their superstitions, and sometimes felt ashamed of
the thought, that they once deemed it part of
their duty, to guard their children against
certain days, signs, and dreams.
Mr. Bland observed this change in their
feelings with much pleasure, and determined
to improve the first opportunity of conversing
seriously with them upon this subject. He
felt it his duty to do so, since he had seen





188   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


how miserable they made themselves during
George's illness, and how their idle fear had
unfitted them for that attention to their son,
which would necessarily have devolved upon
them, if he had not been there, and which it
was their duty to discharge rather than his.
When George was strong enough to walk
into the next room, the first salutation lie
heard was, "works of darkness."  He smiled
very pleasantly, and told Poll he was happy
to find he was not forgotten by his old friends.
The parrot eyed him closely for some time;
turning first one eye at him, and then the
other, and as if quite satisfied flapped his
wings and repeated " works of darkness."
Leo, too, who had often called in with his
master to see the patient, now came and rubbed his head against George's knee, put his
paws upon his hand, and purred with much
satisfaction.
Little Patty was all smiles, and stood ready
to turn in any direction to gratify this general
favorite. She disappeared for a few moments when George first came out, and very
soon old Hardicus and Judy presented themselves, to congratulate " Massa George."
"I is very glad to see you out agin, Massa
George," said Judy. "l He, he, he, I is so





THE RECOVERY.


189


glad; poor Miss Mary is so glad too; he, he,
he."
"I declar, massa," said the old man,
"you look far as Miss Lizzy; you got not a
bit color in your face. I amazin glad to see
you, massa. I hope Bess 'ill die afore you,
arter all."
"Poor Bess," said George, who now felt
kindly towards every living thing.  " We
must forgive her for plaguing us and stealing
our things; and we must try to do something
for her."
" Dear, massa!" exclaimed Hardicus, " you
sure ain't in arnest. I nebber forgib her while
a bitof me hang togedder. La, Massa George,
she try agin to kill you."
" Pshaw! Hardicus, that is nonsense. I am
not at all afraid of old Bess; and you shall
go with me to call on her when I am strong
enough."
" He, he, he," laughed Judy. "Yes, Massa
Georgy, Hardicus will go, I know. Won't
you, Hardy? he, he, he."
"You nebber catch dis nigger dar agin, no
how, I tell you. Git along, Judy, din't Massa
Bland say you mus hole your tongue 'bout
sich tings?  Come 'long home. You tun





190   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


Massa George's head crazy. Come 'long, I
say."
" Sure I nebber said a word 'bout it," replied Judy. "It was you, you own self.
Now mind, I tell Massa Bland 'bout you.
You see if I don't."
"You hush, you nigger, now," said Hardicus. " I nebber tell."
" What do you mean?" asked George, now
for the first time observing that his sable
friends were not only in earnest, but quite excited. " What are you both so angry about?
I thought you felt very happy to see me."
"So we is, Massa George," said Judy,
"he, he, he. I hope you will soon be well
enough to go see old Bess. I'll go wid you,
anyhow; he, he, he."
She then kissed George's hand, and hastened away. Hardicus followed her with his
eyes, until she was out of hearing, and then
said softly to himself, " What a nigger dat is!
She laugh at ebry ting. But I wish you tousand blessins, Massa George, and hope you
soon want Hardicus to dribe you out in de
coach."
So saying, he shook George heartily by the
hand, and took his departure.
This was a day of great rejoicing to all in





THE IRECOVERY.19


191


the house. Mr. Bland looked very happy,
and so did Mary, though. she was very quiet.
The two sisters, indeed, seemed to have exchanged characters.  Elizabeth talked and
laughed, and did all she could to amuse her
brother; while Mary seemed to watch. him
with. her whole soul, and anticipated all his
wishes, but scarcely said a word. Mr. and
Mrs. Finland were quite relieved from anxiety, and their cheerful smiles told how happy
they felt. Willie, too, was there, as gay as
a bird; and to crown all, Donald came over
to spend the day with his friend.
Mary sat quietly at one side of her brother's
chair, with her sewing; but evidently she
was thinking only of him. Elizabeth brought
fruit and cakes for her friends, and Willie
danced quietly about the room, whenever he
heard his brother speak. Thle canaries, too,
sang more sweetly and oftener than ever;
and Poll would now and then have a word to
say. Donald had brought with him an amusing story to read to George, which he had
found in a newspaper, just received from his
father. Mary took much interest iii the story,
anid laughed so much as she used to do, that
Donald felt much pleased to see her appearitig aioi-e like herself again.





192   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


Thus happily passed that afternoon to all;
and Mrs. Finland made Donald promise to
bring his mother and sister to visit her, as
soon as George was well enough to see company.
The first time that George walked in the
garden after his recovery, his uncle went with
him, and took particular care to point out the
trees and roots which he had planted in " the
wrong time of the moon," and on Friday.
Some of them   were more flourishing, and
some of them less thrifty, than those planted
at other times; but the difference could always be accounted for by the nature of the
soil in which they grew, or their situation with
respect to the sun.
George candidly confessed that his garden
and fruit-yard were never in so fine a state
before. IHe did not take the least credit to
himself; but said that if he had not had his
uncle's wisdom to direct him, his plants would
have grown no better than formerly. He also
made some wise resolutions with regard to
his old superstitions; and with his uncle's
watchful eye ever upon him, he hoped to adhere to these good purposes.
His illness had made a very serious impression upon his mind; and he resolved not to





THE RECOVERY.


193


delay turning his thoughts to the study of the
scriptures; from which alone, his uncle assured him, he could derive that heavenly
light, which would enable him to cast away
the works of darkness, and conduct him safely
through the vicissitudes of life, to the haven
of eternal rest.
Elizabeth, whose religious principles would
no longer allow her to harbor in her bosom
such anti-christian feelings as were produced
by the superstitions which she formerly regarded, had become so fearless as to stoop to
examine a toad, or to pick up a pin which had
the point turned towards her when she found
it; or even to speak a word of kindness to
Bess, when she came under the windows for
food. Upon one of these occasions she asked
her if she knew how ill her brother had been,
and told her he was then almost well. Bess
growled and frowned at her like a tigress,
and shook her club in such a threatening manner, that Elizabeth left the window in alarm.
Her health also became much better, as her
mind was freed from those idle, tormenting
fancies, which had greatly affected her nervous system.
Mary, too, had profited by her sad experience; and she promised her sister that she
13





194     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
would strive earnestly to overcome her long
cherished but false notions; but added, that
she could not promise to be quite so familiar
with toads as her sister, or to speak pleasantly
to old Bess; for Mary had a feeling of horror
whenever she even heard the name of that
miserable creature.
Willie was now his uncle's favorite. IHe
had never understood any signs, and was not
afraid of anything except being a bad boy.
He would walk, ride, and sometimes sleep
with his good uncle, and was to him as a son.





XII.


THE long-wished-for day at length arrived,
when Donald was to bring his mother and
sister to visit his friend George. It was on a
bright, mild morning of September, that Mrs.
Mason's carriage was seen rolling briskly
along the highway. Mary wondered why
they should ride, when the path through the
wood and meadow was so pleasant at that
season, and so much shorter.
SAh! I know now," she said to her sister,
" I think that Donald wants to take George to
ride, and indeed I wish I could go too."
" Well, we will see about that," said Elizabeth, as the carriage drew near and stopped
at the gate.
George went out to meet and welcome these
friends, whom he had not seen since his illness.
" I am extremely happy to see you," began George.





196   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" And so am I to see you, my dear George,
looking so much better than I expected," said
Mrs. Mason, tenderly embracing her young
friend, as he helped her out of the carriage;
and hoping that he felt as well as he looked.
" Ah! how glad I am to see you, again,
George," said Anna, while her beautiful face
glowed with pleasure.
" We do not intend to stop yet," said Donald, "we wish you and your sisters to take a
ride with us, this beautiful morning. Come, it
will do you all good; particularly you, Mary."
"Yes," said Elizabeth, " Mary must go.
A ride will be the best thing for her to-day.
So run, Molly, and get ready."
" You must go, too, Lizzy," said Anna.
" This old carriage will hold as many as we
choose to put in it, and the horses will not object to you, my light little lily."
" I must be with mamma to-day," answered
Elizabeth; " but how late you are. It is almost eleven; and if you go far, you will not
be here to dine with us. Pray stop now, and
we will have an early dinner, and then you
can have all the afternoon for your ride."
" Yes, yes, that is much better," said
George, " then we shall not be obliged to
hurry; and then Lizzy can go with us."





THE PLEASANT RIDE.


197


"That will be much better," said Mary;
and Donald and Anna said they thought so
too; and jumping down, they ran into the
house, while Jim drove the carriage from the
door.
As Elizabeth promised, the dinner was over
before two, and preparations were made for
the ride. Jim was ready with the carriage
at the gate, and the young people came out in
fine spirits to enjoy the beautiful afternoon.
" I am sorry, Lizzy dear, that you would
rather stay at home with the old folks, than
ride with us," said Anna.
" It would not do for both Mary and myself to leave home to-day. I care very little
about riding, but it will do Mary good; she
had so much care while George was sick."
"We are sorry to leave you, Lizzy," said
George. "But jump in, Molly, and don't
hesitate any longer; Anna is waiting for you
to get in first."
" I intend to ride in front, for I like to see
everything," said Mary, " and Donald has
promised to teach me to drive. So, Anna, we
intend to stow George in behind, because he
is not quite as hardy yet as Donald; and I
am afraid he might find the air rather cool
while riding."





198    THE FINLAN~D FAMILY.


" I like the arrangement very much," said
George, springing into the carriage and seating himself on the back seat by Anna; while
Donald assisted Mary in, and taking his seat,
put the reins in her hands.
" Hold them just so, Mary. 0! your little
hand is not half large enough; but here we
go. You must do exactly as I tell you."
" I don't fancy you for a driver, Molly,"
said George. " If you turn us over, you shall
be fined a thousand dollars."
Why, George," said Mary, laughing, " I
never could pay all that. It would be better
for me to break my neck in the fall, than to
get so much in debt."
"That is a shocking idea," said Donald. "I
should wish my neck broken too, at the same
time."
" Do take the reins again, Donald. I cannot drive with George in the carriage," said
Mary; and that strange, anxious expression
passed over her face that Donald had observed
with so much anxiety, during his attendance
at the sick-bed of his friend.
"Iltary dear," said Donald, " tell me now
what has given you so much trouble."
" Hush! not for the world," said Mary in
a low voice, as slhe gave up the reins to Don




THE PLEASANT RIDE.


199


aid. " I will drive another time, but not
now."
"You are soon tired, Molly," said Anna.
"I thought you would not like the trouble
long."
"I am glad to see the reins again in your
hands, Donald," said George. " Mary has
been too much confined to the house, of late,
to know anything about driving two horses;
but you are going a different route from that
you intended when we started. This road is
very rough, you know."
" Sure enough," answered Donald, " I am
in the wrong road; but I must blame you for
it, George."
"Me! Donald, you are crazy," said George
in surprise. " I shall have to take your place
there, if you make any more mistakes. Come,
turn back; we will get into some trouble if
you don't mind."
" I will, I will now," said Donald. " We are
only a short distance fi-om the right road. I
will turn round and soon get on that. But
do you mind your own affairs, my good
fellow," continued Donald playfully.  "I
wish you and Anna could entertain each other,
and not be all the time interfering with us."
" I should like to know where you would





200   TlHE FINLAND FAM3ILY.


have taken us, if George had not interfered.
Over Crane rock, I do believe, before you discovered your mistake."
Donald and   Mary laughed heartily at
Anna's wit, and they both promised to take
better care for the rest of the drive.
"Why, Anna," asked George, " did you
stay away all the time I was sick?."
" Because Donald would not let me go to
see you," answered Anna.
" Do you hear that, Donald? I will thank
you, sir, the next time I am sick, not to keep
my friends from calling when they wish to do
So."
" The nurses and physician know what is
best for the patient," answered Donald.
1" Anna would have seen you every day, if 1
had not said her visits would do you more
harm than good. Mamma would not come,
for the same reason. Moreover, they heard
particularly how you were every day, from
me, and that was all that was necessary."
"' Draw your cloak about you, George," said
Mary, " for the air is almost too cool for an
invalid."
1" He is no invalid now," said Anna. "He
begins to look well again. 0! I was so anxious about you while you were sick."





THE PLEASANT RIDE.


201


" About me?" asked George. "That was
strange, I did not suppose you ever had an
anxious thought on my account."
" 0! George,you ought to be ashamed to
talk so. You were very ill. And have we
not always been the very best neighbors in
the world? 0! if you had died, what would
Donald have done!"
" Ah! that is true," said Donald. " But
what are you thinking over those old troubles
for? You will not let Mary and me feel
happy, while you talk about them. Do you
wish to stop at the widow Gray's, Anna?"
" Yes; I have a little bundle here for her,"
answered Anna, " and I have a message from
Mamma, too."
"That is the poor woman whose husband
died last winter; is it not, Anna?"
" Yes. She has three little children and is
very poor. Have you ever been to see her,
Mary?"
"No, Anna dear; I wish you had told
me you were going there; for I could have
brought something for her. But I have a
dollar in my purse, which papa gave me last
spring. I once tried to get rid of it," continued Mary, sighing; " but I could not. Since
that time I have hated the sight of it, and





202     TiiHE FINL ANDT FAMILY.
will be very happy to give it to one of the
little children."
" You are a queer girl, Molly," said George.
" You have hated the sight of the dollar, because you could not get rid of it. I wish, in
future, you would give me all the dollars that
you can't get rid of."
" You need not laugh, George," said Anna.
"I wish that you and Donald cared as little
for money as Mary does. If you did, you
would each give Mrs. Gray as much as she
intends to give."
" Well, Donald, old fellow, do you hear
what Anna says? Come, let us see how mucl
I can scrape together; and then you must try
]low generous you can be. Look, here are
two half dollars, with a hole through each.
These I am going to give. I have a little
more, if you want to borrow."
" Like Mary," said Donald, "I have but
one piece, and that is a crown. With this I
shall crown the whole, after the rest of you
have given. I am the most awkward hand in
the world to give money. Howshall I contrive
it?'"
' There is no need of being so very modest,"
said Anna. " The poor woman is so accustomIed to receiving charity, that she will not





THE iPLEASANT RIDE.


203


feel half as much when she takes it, as you
will when you give it."
" A pretty good story, Donald," said Mary.: I did not know before that it was so hard
for you to part with your money."
" I believe you have got the laugh on me,"
said Donald, laughing heartily. " But never
mind, you will see how I will contrive to
crown the whole."
Thus happily these young friends chatted,
until they turned into a shady lane which led
to a neat little cottage near the pleasant village of W--.
" There is Kate, with little Robby, gathering grapes. Let us stop and ask if Mrs.
Gray is at home," said Anna. " Come here,
Kate," continued she, as the carriage stopped.
" Is your mother at home?"
Kate made a low curtsy, and pulling off
little Robby's hat, said quickly, " Yis, mam."i
" Is any one there besides your mother?"
" No, mam, only Julie."
" Well, we are going there to see your
mother."
" Yis, mam.a"
They drove on. Kate set down her basket,
and taking Robby by the hand, scampered
on after the carriage as fast as possible.





204   THE FINLAND FAMAILY.


Mrs. Gray came to the door as the carriage
stopped. She curtsied to the strangers, and
so did Julie; and politely asked them in.
She sat down quietly after the rest were
seated, and asked Anna kindly about her
mother's health, and when she had heard from
her father.
"We cannot stay long," said Anna, after
they had been a few minutes in the house.
" We called to deliver a message from mamma."
" Those peaches look very fine, Mrs. Gray,"
said Mary. " I should like to take some of
them home with me."
"I have only this one tree," said Mrs.
Gray, " but you are welcome, mamn, to as
many as you like."
" You have a basket in the carriage, Anna,
will you lend it to me?" asked Mary.
" Certainly," said Anna, " but it is quite
small."
" Yes, it is quite too small," said Mrs. Gray,
as she took the basket and began to fill it
with the best peaches on the tree.
" This is Julie's tree," she remarked, as she
took the basket and placed it in the carriage.
Anna went into the house with the bundle
which slie had taken from the basket, and





THE PLEASANT IIDE.


205


put it upon the table; and coming out again,
asked Mrs. Gray if she still kept bees.
" Yis, mam, my hives have done very well
this summer. I have some nice and fresh in
the comb now, in the house. Will you eat
some? I should be very glad if you will."
" We cannot stay long enough for that,"
said Anna.
" That will not take long," said the widow,
and ran briskly in, and in a few moments appeared at the door and invited them in again.
"This is the nicest honey I ever saw," said
George, as he spread a fresh slice of rye
bread thick with it and handed it to Anna.
"The bees are all mine," said Kate, who
had been eyeing them with much pleasure, as
they were enjoying her honey.
" Yes," said Mrs. Gray, " they all _claim
something. The cow is Robby's. He is a
good boy, and picks up all the chips for me."
" Come," said Mary to the others, "we
must get home now as soon as possible. Goodbye, Mrs. Gray. I am much obliged to you
for the peaches."
Then taking the dollar from her pocket,
she went to the little girl Julia, and said,
" IHere, Julia, I want you to take this to remnemnber me hv."





T1      FiN,k  )  A  1,Y


The child looked at Mary in wonder, and
her mother said, " No, mam, it is quite too
much."
" But she shall have it," said Mary. " I
will not take it again;" and she slipped it
into the girl's bosom, who made a low curtsey
and said, " Thanky, mam."
" We have been eating your honey, Kate,"
said George, " that was not fair; and you
must let us pay you. Get me a thread-that's
a good little child."
Away ran Kate, and soon returned with a
ball of yarn. George broke off a piece, and
turning from them, put the half-dollars on
the string, and then hung them around Kate's
neck. The child blushed and smiled, while
her mother said the gentleman was very kind.
" Where is your cow, Robby?" asked Donald. " I should like to have a glass of milk
after eating that nice honey."
" Yis, sir," said the little fellow; and away
lie trotted after his mother.
"Now for the crowning scene," whispered
Mary.
"Yes, yes," said George.
" I am all impatience," said Anna, " to see
how it will end. Here comres the little fellow;
now for it, Donald."





TiT PLEASANT RIDE.


207


Robby came creeping along with a nice
glass of milk; holding it with both hands,
and spilling it down on his jacket at every
step. Donald went to meet him, and drank
it all down without a word.
" Is it good?" asked the little boy.
This question amused the strangers very
much. They all then shook hands with Mrs.
Gray and the children, and after Robby had
shaken hands with Donald, he found a piece
of silver in his sleeve. By this time they were
all in the carriage. The little boy ran and
showed it to his mother, who raised both her
hands and said, " God bless 'em," while her
tears filled her eyes, and Julia and Kate came
close to her as the carriage drove off.
" That was very well done, Donald," said
George, "but your face turned as red as a
girl's, while you were shaking hands with
Robby."
" Poor woman," said Mary, "' did you see
how much she seemed to feel?"
" Yes," replied George. " Truly we have
felt to-day that 'it is more blessed to give
than to receive.' I am glad we have found
out this worthy woman, for we can often assist
her."
"' Do take some of these nice peaches," said





208     ThE FINLANDi FAMILY.
Mary. "They are very sweet and ripe, and
fresh from the tree. Here, Anna, this is a
beauty. Help yourself, Donald; and you,
too, George."
" I was quite amused, Mary," said Donald,
" to see how you contrived to get more than
any of us for your money. I wonder that you
will eat anything you bought with that dollar."
' Donald," said Mary, looking him earnestly in the face, "w what do you know about that
dollar?"
' O! nothing, except that you said you had
hated it ever since you tried to get rid of it, a
few weeks ago."
" You must not speak so strongly in future,
Molly," said Anna, " if you don't wish your
words to make-an impression. We shall always remember that the money you paid for
these nice peaches was a hateful dollar."
" I hope," said George, " that my dear sister's pocket feels lighter since she gave away
what she so much hated. I hope it will do
more good to the child than it ever did to my
sister Molly."
1 I hope so, too," said Mary, earnestly.
" But you are all too bad, to laugh so much at
my troubles. You do not know how glad I





THE PLEASANT IRIDE.


209


feel when I think that dollar may yet do good
to some one."
And Mary looked so grave, that not another word was said upon the subject of that
dollar; the very one she had offered to Bess
for the herbs for George.
The beautiful autumnal day began to draw
to a close before the young people returned
home from their ride. They regretted very
much that Elizabeth had not been with them;
and Mary said she would not let them go
home until late, because Anna had scarcely
seen her sister; and that Lizzy should have
some of the nice peaches.
"Yes," said George, " and we will give
her an exact account of our adventures, and
then she will feel perfectly satisfied; for
Lizzy is a dear little body, and would never
stir from mamma of her own accord. Mary
really had to beg her, the other day, to go with
her to take tea at Mr. Heaton's. She only
consented at last, because she remembered
how closely Mary had been confined at home
for several weeks. She first tried to get mamma to go too. And I believe that on Mary's
account mamma would have gone, if Lizzy
had persisted much longer."
14





210   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


" She is the best sister in the world," said
Mary.
"Except mine," answered Donald. "She
is the very best."
"Certainly," said Anna. "I believe you
think so, Donald; and I am sure I can with
truth return the compliment."
" I deny that, Anna," said George. "I
do not think he is half so good a sister as
Molly. He said you were the best sister;
and you said you could return the compliment, that is, you could say that he is the best
sister in the world."
" That is just like you, George," said Donald. "How you do like to laugh at the
girls."
" 0! we never care," said Mary, good-humoredly. "We like to see him    enjoying
himself. We laugh at him, too, sometimes.
I never felt really provoked but once when
George laughed at me, and that was--"
" If you don't wish to be laughed at again
for the same thing," said George, " you had
better not repeat it to Anna and Donald."
" Well, say no more about it, Molly dear,"
said Anna, "for we do not wish to laugh at
y ou."
" Here we are," said Donald, "almost home;





THE PLEASANT RIDE.


211


but what is that smoke? It rises like the
smoke of a barn burning. It is just in the direction of Mr. Hook's. See, see how thick
and black the smoke looks, as it winds over
the hill. It is not more than three miles from
here. It really does seem to be a large fire, and
just in the direction of Mr. Hook's. I hope
it is not his house. If it is only his old barn,
it will be no great loss; for it was too bad to
put his grain in, this summer."
"Is it not in the direction of our house,
Donald?" asked Anna.
" Yes, but farther. I know by that high
hill, that it is either at Mr. Keene's, or Mr.
Iook's."
By this time they had reached the next turn
in the road; which, after a little while, brought
them safely to Mr. Finland's gate, where they
all alighted with much pleasure, and found
their dear friends and a good supper waiting
for them.





XIII.


cibtut SgmV4QThS* I
GEORGE had now recovered his health and
good looks; but the constant visits of Donald
seemed still to be essential to his comfort.
When two days would intervene between
his calls, George would wonder what could
be the reason that he had not come.
For three evenings in succession, he had
gone to rest disappointed and anxious, because his friend had not called; and on the
morning of the fourth day he determined to
ride over to Capt. Mason's, to learn the cause
of his long absence.
When he reached the house, he saw Donald busily engaged in the orchard; and tying
his horse, he came up to him so quietly and
unexpectedly that Donald was startled and
surprised.
" Ah! is it you, indeed?" he exclaimed,
as George caught him in his arms. " I am





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


213


very glad you have come. I thought you
would be here, if I left off my visits to you,
for a few days. Come, let us go in, mamma
and Anna will be very glad to see you."
Then taking George's arm, he hurried him
toward the house. Mrs. Mason met them at
the door, and warmly welcomed him once
more to her house. Anna, with a glow of
pleasure upon her cheek, frankly offered him
her hand, and expressed much satisfaction at
seeing him look quite well again.
George felt an undefinable sensation of
thrilling pleasure, which he had never before
experienced, when he saw the lovely Anna
express so much pleasure on his account.
When this heart-felt reception was over,
and the usual inquiries about the health of all
had passed, a long silence ensued, and a gloom
seemed to hover around, which was not usual
in this old mansion. George felt embarrassed; and turning abruptly to Donald, asked
if anything unpleasant had occurred? Donald hesitated, and looked towards his mother,
who replied:
" Ah! George, we have great cause to feel
anxious; but we put our trust in God, who
doeth all things well; and we can sometimes
feel a calm confidence in his unerring wisdom,





214     ThE FINLAND FA MILY.
happen what may. We received, three days
since, a letter from a friend of Mr. Mason,
stating that he was too ill to write; that.he
had been reduced to the brink of the grave
by a malignant fever; but that it was now
the opinion of the physicians that the greatest danger was passed, and if no relapse
occurred, he might, with great care, recover
so far as to set out on his voyage homeward after a few weeks. We have, however, many anxious moments, because we
cannot hear from him again for a long time;
but we try to be patient, while we hope for
the best, and endeavor to be prepared for the
worst.?"
George felt the deepest interest in what he
had just heard.  Hie always loved captain
Mason; and the pleasant occasions of his return to his home, were among the brightest of
George's remembrances. lie tenderly sympathized with his friends, and endeavored to
administer comfort to them; saying, that
there was more reason to hope than to fear,
now that the crisis was past, and captain
Mason was yet living when the letter was
written.
George, however, remembered the knifeCaptain Mason's last gift to Donald-and





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


215


thought to himself, " we shall never see him
again." But in a moment, his better judgment prevailed, and he exerted himself to
banish this superstition from his mind. He
endeavored to be cheerful, and succeeded in
making his friends so too; and he parted with
them in good spirits, after Donald had told
him that in future he would expect him to
return all his calls.
Several weeks passed after this visit, and
still no intelligence was received concerning
captain Mason. Donald had called several
times and began to appear quite dejected.
Mrs. Mason, however, still hoped that as they
received no letter he might be on his way
home, and this was quite a comfort to their
anxious hearts.
One morning Mrs. Finland said she had
heard the death-bell ringing in her ears all
night, and that she was afraid to hear from
Mrs. Mason, for she felt sure they had heard
bad news.
Mr. Finland confirmed what his wife had
said, by stating that all the morning, while
seated at his writing desk, he had heard the
death-watch.
"Now, my dear brother, and sister," said
Mr. Bland, " I cannot let this piece of super




216   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


stition pass without a gentle reproof, or at
least an attempt to account for your delusive
signs. You, my dear sister, complained last
evening of being unwell. Your cold, and
your feverish symptoms, caused the ringing
in your ears, which is a very common thing.
I myself have it very often; and if some dear
friend should die every time this bell-ringing
in my ears troubles me, I should very soon
have not a friend in the world left."
Mrs. Finland admitted that she believed
the ringing in her head to proceed from her
cold; yet she said it sounded so much like a
bell that it was really alarming; and she had
always been accustomed to believe that she
should hear of a death soon after experiencing
what she did last night. She however hoped
there was to be no truth in the sign this time,
and trusted that captain Mason would soon
return to his family; though she could not
entirely dismiss her sad forebodings.
" We must not be too anxious about anything, my dear sister," said Mr. Bland, " but
commit all our care to that wise and good
Being who never errs. And as to the deathwatch, it is -merely a little harmless insect,
which we can find concealed somewhere about
the writing desk, if we look carefully for it.





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


217


The ticking noise it makes so exactly resembles a watch, that I was once entirely deceived by it; and searched a shelf which was
covered with old books and papers, peeping
first under one book, then between two or
three, and lifting the old papers with much
care, for fear I should throw down my watch
which I thought I had by mistake laid carelessly down somewhere on the shelf; and
though I thought I remembered leaving it in
my room, yet I could not be convinced until,
in my search for the watch, I saw a little
insect, and then I found out my mistake. I
took the little thing up carefully, and kept it
some days; and amused my friends with its
remarkable noise. This harmless little insect,
the weak-minded have supposed to prognosticate death; and from this circumstance it
has derived its name."
Mr. Finland answered that he knew very
well that the death-watch was an insect; but
as it was heard so rarely, its strange noise
might be reasonably considered a deathtoken.
" For my part," said Mr. Bland, " I cannot
comprehend, why anything which happens
rarely, but from the nature of things, may
occur at any time, and which doubtless often





218   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


takes place without being observed by any
person, should be considered ominous. And
though I cannot, on this occasion, say with
the Psalmist, 'I have hated them that regard
lying vanities,' yet I will say I hate all such
lying vanities, as your superstitious signs,
good and bad omens, and other lying wonders;
and I hope the day is not far distant when
you will feel just as I do upon this subject."
Mr. and Mrs. Finland did not altogether
like to be thus reproved in the presence of
their children; but as Mr. Bland had truth
upon his side, they were obliged to bear the
rebuke in silence.
Little Willie said he would go and look for
the death-watch, and Elizabeth said she would
go too; for she had never seen one. They
began the search in earnest, and were soon
gratified by finding the little creature, whose
unmeaning noise had filled a man with terror.
Willie put it into a little paper box, and
kept it some time; and showed it to Donald
and Anna, and every one who chanced to
come in while he had it.
Soon after these occurrences, Mr. Finland
said he was going in the direction of Captain
Mason's, and would call there before he returned, and ask the news.





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


219


The time passed tediously that morning;
for the conversation which had passed between Mr. Bland and his friends cast a sober
feeling over Mrs. Finland and her children.
Mr. Finland did not return until noon; he
came in smiling and looking so happy that
they all exclaimed, "good news!"
" Tell us, tell us," said one.
"Is captain Mason well?" asked another.
SHas he written himself?"
"Has he got home?" asked George.
"George is right," answered Mr. Finland.
" He is safe home."
Then Willie danced, though he had no recollection of the captain; but he always
would dance when he saw others happy.
Mary's face glowed with pleasure, and Elizabeth's brightened with smiles. George could
not express his delight in words. Mrs. Finland was much surprised; and Mr. Bland
looked on with pleasure.
"I have been talking with him for an
hour," continued Mr. Finland. "He looks
much better than I expected to see him.
He returned night before last; but Donald
was prevented by the unceasing rain of yesterday, from coming over to give us the joyful news. They all appear very happy, and





220   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


Anna is more beautiful than ever, George;
and it is evident that her father thinks so."
George's face was flushed with pleasure, as
his father addressed this last remark to him,
and lie caught little Willie, and kissed and
hugged him, until the little fellow looked up
in wonder at his big brother. In the midst
of the fluster Poll cried out, " works of darkness;" while George shook his fist at the
bird, and told him those words recalled sad
thoughts, and that they were no longer needed; but the parrot, louder than ever, screamed
out the same words at him; which brought a
smile to every face, and made Willie clap
his hands with delight. Their pleasure was
still more increased, when Mr. Finland said
that Mrs. Mason had invited them   all to
spend a long day with them to-morrow.
"' It will not be a long day to any of us, I
promise you," said Mary.
" No," observed Mr. Bland, " not even to
me; for I shall enjoy the happiness which
my dear friends experience."
No one was more pleased upon the return
of captain Mason than Hardicus, who came,
smiling, to ask permission to go over that
afternoon to see " old Massa," and ask " how
he leab his brudder."





SWEET SYMPATHIEhIS.


221


On the morrow, the sun rose bright and
beautiful, and so did the young Finlands;
and began, after an eaily breakfast, to make
preparations for spending a long day with
their neighbors. They knew nothing of the
fashion of the present time, and would have
laughed at any who should go out on a
visit in the afternoon, and say they went to
spend the day. This was not the way with
the honest, simple-minded, and intelligent
forefathers of New England. These friends
knew that by nine or ten o'clock Mrs. Mason
would be expecting them.
The young people were ready to start by
eight; but their parents, who took things
more coolly, were not ready quite so soon;
and little Willie, who was more impatient
than usual, thought they had waited an hour
for the rest. They all intended to walk, and
anticipated much pleasure from this part of
their day.
Little Willie ran on before the rest of the
party, but stopped so often to gather flowers,
or to chase butterflies, or to speak to those behind him, that he did not arrive at the end
of the walk any sooner than the others.
Mr. Bland said he would turn aside and
make Mr. Heaton a call; for he had not seen





222   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


the good minister at home for some time;
and he wished to consult him about the best
plan to be adopted in order to civilize the poor
vagrant, Bess, who was growing more thievish
and destructive every day. Before the Finlands reached captain Mason's, they saw her
coming towards them through the wood. Descrying them at a distance, she stopped and
crept into some thick bushes, until they came
up. She, however, kept herself concealed,
and they passed on, and did not let her know
that they had seen her.
When they arrived at the old mansion
Mrs. Mason and Anna were waiting to receive
their guests, and gave them a hearty welcome.
Captain Mason embraced each of his young
friends tenderly, while they wished him a
long and happy visit to his home; and they
were overjoyed to learn that he intended now
to remain with his beloved family, and make
no more long voyages. He examined the
face of each of the young people, and commented upon the great change produced in
their appearance in so short a time as three
years. He wondered most at Willie, and
seemed scarcely to think that this big boy was
the little baby he had last seen him. He
could see no change in Mr. and Mrs. Finland.





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


223


He said they looked exactly as they did the
last time he parted with them. Willie told
him of the good uncle who had come to live
with them, and many other things.
Mr. Bland did not arrive for more than an
hour after the rest, and little Willie ran out to
meet him, while Elizabeth, taking captain
Mason by the hand, said she wished to have
the pleasure of introducing him to her good
uncle, who gave him a warm welcome, while
he said he felt almost personally acquainted
with him; as he had heard so much said about
captain Mason, and his expected return.
Various were the employments and amusements, which served to make this day a happy
one to all who were present at the old mansion.
Sober, entertaining conversation engaged
the more serious part of the company, and the
more thoughtless, too, for a time. Donald
brought out a large collection of rare things
which his father had brought this time, and
which were all new to his visitors. Mary
took up a volume of plants, beautifully pressed. The most of them retained their color,
and interested her exceedingly; as theywere
all in their proper classes, and she had, under
her uncle's tuition, become very fond of the





224   THIE FINLAND FAMILY.


study of botany. The shells seemed most to
interest Willie; and he amused himself with
them long after the others had left him, for a
stroll through the garden, the orchard, and
meadow, as sportive and joyous as the birds
that delighted them with their notes.
Elizabeth and Anna kept side by side,
amusing themselves with many an innocent
jest with George; while Donald and Mary,
hand in hand, bounding along over the meadows, soon reached the bank of the river;
where seating themselves on the grass, they
united their voices in a plaintive little air,
which sounded very sweetly to the others, who
were bending their steps more slowly in the
same direction.
Here they all rested a long time, in a beautiful spot, shaded by ancient trees, under
which Mr. Heaton had made some rustic
seats, as it bordered upon the grounds of his
parsonage. The grass was beautifully green
on the bank of the river, and ornamented by
a variety of rich flowers, mosses and ferns.
The young men gathered the flowers, and the
girls made themselves tasty wreaths.
" Here," said George, playfully, " I have
brought some chestnut burrs, to make a necklace for Anna. Let me measure your neck





SWEET SYMPA THIES.    2


225


with this piece of grass, for 1 wish to make it
just long enough. You will know when you
lose it, if it is tight."
" Oh! you are very kind," said Anna,
starting up, " but I will have no necklaces.
I don't like ornaments of any kind. I'll tell
you what to do with them. Open them and
press them out, and next week I will make
you a pair of mittens, with the smooth side
out. The cold weather will be coming on
soon, and they will be very warm."
"Yes," said Mary, "nothing does George
like better than to have good, thick gloves
when he drives in the winter."
Donald laughed heartily at his friend, and
said, " I think you stand a chance, George,
to get the mitten, in a way that you will not
much relish."
" I think so, too," returned George. " I
will take care how I offer to make jewelry
again for you, Miss Anna."
" I hope you will," replied the charming
girl, making a graceful courtesy to George;
and looking too much pleased with him to be
offended.
" I shall make a more tasty necklace for
your sister," said Donald, "' and shall not be
obliged to take the measure of her neck either.
15





226     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
When I complete it, you shall all see how
beautiful it will be, and how much taste I
have."
Saying this, he ran down the bank; while
Elizabeth, finishing a beautiful wreath, placed
it upon Mary's head.
" Oh, how sweet she looks," exclaimed
Anna.
" I am making mine for you, Lizzy," said
Mary.
" I was making mine for Lizzy, too," cried
Anna, " and now, what shall be done?"
"I think Lizzy had better take back that
one she just gave Mary, and then she will
have enough for one little lady," said George.
The girls laughed at his wit; and after
awhile Donald came, with his wreath hanging
on his hand. It was made of bunches of berries and leaves, tied together with grass. It
was very tastily put together, and very much
admired by all except Mary, who said she
could not put it on her neck, while a deeper
glow suffused her cheek, and tears filled her
eyes, and Donald saw with surprise the same
expression on her countenance, as she looked
earnestly at George, that had given him so
lmuch uneasiness while his friend was sick.
Th1ly were all amazed, and wondered at Ma




S W E ET SYMPATHIES.


227


ry's refusal of so tasty a wreath for her neck;
except Lizzy, who took it playfully from Donald, and hung it on a branch of one of the
trees; saying, it might perhaps be found by
Bess before it withered, and she knew the use
of herbs so well, that she would be glad to
find them gathered, ready to her hand.
Donald felt mortified and hurt by Mary's
conduct; and the poor girl, observing this,
could scarcely refrain from weeping. She
sat down by Anna, and put her head in her
lap. Lizzy saw and felt her dear sister's
trouble, and determined to speak to Donald,
but could not do so where Mary was. She,
therefore, said she was going to look for some
grapes-hoping that Donald would offer to
help her-and as he had nothing now that
much interested him, he followed, and soon
overtook this kind sister and sympathizing
friend. She found the grapes just where old
I-tardicus had told her they grew; and while
Donald assisted her to gather them, she related the strange story to him about Mary's
visit to Bess. Nothing could exceed the surprise and horror that the young man felt, as
Elizabeth went on with the recital; and he
no longer wondered at Mary's remarkable
manner towards George during his illness, or





22S    THE FIyNL, AND FAMILY.


her aversion to his unfortunate selection of
similar berries for the necklace. His heart
was entirely relieved; for he had often endeavored to find a sufficient reason for Mary's
singular conduct, when he once spoke to her
upon the subject of her sadness, during his
friend's illness. Soon all was plain; and he
begged Lizzy not to trouble herself any more
about the grapes; saying he would have them
gathered and sent to her the next day. They
returned to the rest of the party, and Mary
soon observed, from Donald's manner, that
her sweet sister had told him the fearful tale.
Donald came, and sitting down beside her,
whispered in her ear, "' I think we will carry
home the necklace, and make sweetmeats of
the berries for old Bess."
Mary covered her face with her hands as lie
spoke.
"What is that about old Bess?" asked
Anna. "Did you say you would tell her
what a naughty girl Mary was, to refuse your
tasty present?"
" Who got the mitten, that time?" asked
George, laughing heartily, when he found
that Donald had again become good-humored.
"Come, come," said Lizzy, " the declining
sun warns us to return."





SWEET SYMPATHIES.


229


"How poetical my dear little sister is,"
said Mary, as she kissed the lovely girl, and
took Donald's offered arm, while they bent
their steps back to the house. When they
reached the old mansion, Mary had entirely
recovered her good spirits, and the glow upon
her cheek was brighter than ever.
Little Willie ran out to meet them, -and
said, " Come along, they are all in the garden, and you must go there too."
They soon saw their kind parents; and
Donald, playfully leading Mary forward, introduced her as "one of the graces."
"And here are the others," said George,
as he presented Anna and Elizabeth.
The girls curtsied gracefully, indeed, and
their parents smiled, delighted at their harmless wit.
"Their heightened beauty," observed Mr.
Bland, " makes them resemble Faith, Hope,
and Charity, more than any heathen divinities."
"That is true," remarked captain Mason,
"but, beware how you plant vanity in their
young hearts. Remember!"l he added, addressing the girls, " that it is only the beauty
of holiness which can stand the test of time
and eternity."





230     THE F [ NLANI FA1,IILY.
This remark sobered the whole party, and
cast a shade of charming thoughtfulness into
the sweet expression of their happy counten ances.
Supper being ended, the guests were soon
prepared for their walk homeward. Donald
and Anna accompanied them part of the way,
and Willie begged them to go quite home
with him and stay all night. But this, they
said, they would not do this time; so the little fellow was obliged to be contented with a
loving kiss from Anna.
The evening was closed by them, as usual,
in hearing Mr. Bland read the Holy Scriptures, and uniting in prayer and praise to that
good. Being, whose kind providence had
brought them safely through this happy day.





XIV.


Ctranu     E1iUp*,
THE beautiful autumnal morning which
followed the happy day spent at the old
mansion, saw George out early and looking
after matters of business and daily care.
The sun was just smiling over the horizon
upon all the charming works of God; enlivening and illuminating with his beams each
beauteous scene of richly variegated landscape, placid river, and distant, towering
hills. "How splendid!" thought the young
man, as he paused to gaze upon the landscape.
The trees were tinged with almost every variety of color; and George remembered what
his uncle Bland had said about the impression made upon his mind by the variety of
colors in the foliage, the first autumn that he
spent with them in New England. This scene
was not new to George, who had observed
the gradual change of the trees fi-om spring
to winter for nearly twenty years; but still





232     THIE FINLAND FAMILY.
he gazed upon the beautiful prospect with
even more pleasure than he had found in
it when a child. All the beauty of nature
was before him, and all the joys of life he
anticipated in the future. With him, happiness was on the wing, undamped by care, and
hope smiled before him, unchecked by disappointment.
From the house he slowly directed his
steps towards the barn; where he saw Hardicus standing still and looking steadily upon
something at his feet. When he drew near
he discovered that it was Fleet.
1' What is the matter with him?" asked
George, in alarm. " Ah! my poor Fleet! I
do believe he is dead."
SYis, lie dead, Massa George; he stone
dead. I no hear him all night-an' I go look
in he house-he no dar-so I hunt roun' an'
here I fine him, stone dead."
" 0! my good friend, my poor, dear Fleet.
I thought you looked very well yesterday;
and I wanted to take you with me, but I was
afraid that the new dog which Captain Mason
brought home would quarrel with you."
" Massa, dey no use tockin to 'un. IIe
no hear you now-he nebber hear you no
more."





STRANGE THINGS.


233


" Do you think he looked sick yesterday?"
asked George.
" I no know, Massa-he no be sick when
you go way-but old Bess she come 'long
arter dat. Fleet growl hard at her-she trow
de dog sometin'--he go take it up-he eat it."
"' What was it?" asked George, much excited. " What did it look like?"
"I tink it look like chicken leg--I sure
'twas meat. Bess no know I see her. I peep
tru de crack ob de door. I be feard to speak."
S0 what an old coward you are," said
George impatiently. " Where were Judy and
Jim? I think all of you together might have
kept Bess out of the yard in the day-time."
" KMassa George, now don't be mad-massa
don't. I tell you, Massa George, Judy and
Patty dey gone arter de turkeys, kase if Bess
fine 'um she take just as many on 'nm as she
like. Jim, he go ride 'way. I no know what
Jim ride 'way fur-but he go--I nebber ax
him."
" And pray," asked George, in the same
vexed and impatient manner, " what other
mischief did you let her do?"
" Now, massa, I no let Bess do nottin. She
go roun' de house-I go out to peep arter
her--she look in dem ar winders-she try an'





234     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
git in at de do'--she can't do dat-den she
try at the cellar do'-she can't git in dar
nedder-den she cus you all holler-I nebber
hear nobody cus like old Bess."
" 0! she is a wicked old wretch," said
George, " and I will ask uncle to go with me
to her hut, this very day."
" Massa, she kill you!"
"Never fear, I am not such a coward as
you, Hardicus. I am not afraid of the vile
creature, now I am grown."
"Now Massa is mad wid dis poor old nigger.
'Deed, Massa George, I tink Bess bewitch me
if I cross her-dat all I feard ob. I no be
coward. But I don't like dem ar old witches."
" Ah! my poor Fleet," said George, looking again at his favorite; and turning, he
went back to the house, where he related to
his father and uncle what had happened.
Mr. Finland said she should live no longer
on his premises, if he could get her away, but
he did not like to drive her off.
" I will take care of her," said Mr. Bland.
"I have put off this unpleasant business too
long; and although I have been residing here
so long, yet I have never had an opportunity
of speaking to this creature, for she seems always to avoid me. Mr. Heaton says he fears





STRANGE THINGS.


235


that nothing can be done for her; that lie
never met with such a hardened sinner. I
will go there with or without you, George, today; just as you please."
" I wish very much to go with you, uncle.
Some one must; for alone you could never
find the place."
" I shall just go to her hut to-day," said
Mr. Bland, " and tell her that we know the
extent of her evil deeds; and tell her plainly
that she shall be brought to justice and lodged
in prison; for the community has borne with
her evil ways too long already."
Mr. Bland and George started upon this
unpleasant business early in the afternoon.
The glorious sun which George had seen rising
brightly that morning was now overcast with
clouds, and a gloomy shade spread over the
meadow and wood; while they silently pursued their walk in the direction of this abode
of misery and vice. When they arrived there,
Mr. Bland could not help wondering at the
strange abode, almost concealed by trees and
brambles. The front was quite clear of
bushes; and the vines and mosses which crept
through and hung down the sides of the stone
hut looked really beautiful. The leaves of
the little tree which grew on the top of the





236     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
grass-covered roof were of bright scarlet and
orange; and the crimson and purple vines,
and yellow brambles, made the strange place
look very rich and gay.
They found the door fastened, and Bess
was not there. The stump of an old broom
lay by the door, and the gravel and leaves
had been swept to one side. " This looks
more decent than I expected," said Mr. Bland.
" I suppose she takes off a broom whenever
she happens to find one."
" Yes," replied George; " we have missed
more than one broom from the porch, and
have wondered what became of them. Hardicus would tell us, that he had seen the old
witch ride the broomstick home over the meadow, and into the wood."
Mr. Bland clambered about on every side
of this odd building; and said he thought it
might have been built more than a century.
They then sat down on the trunk of the great
tree which had been blown down near by, to
wait for Bess to return home.
They had not waited long before they saw
her sombre figure gliding through the thickest
part of the wood, followed by her dog. She
carried a goose in one hand, and had a bundle of sticks under the other arm.





STrEA IN GE TIl _NGS.


The dog sprang forward upon seeing them
and growled horribly. " Off there," cried
Bess, and coming up, she stared at them
wildly for a moment, and then said, with evident agitation,
" What in the name of saint Pathrick be ye
wanting?"
" We wish to speak a few words to you,
Bess," said Mr. Bland, mildly.
"Will, make speed thin! Do you know
me? My name is Mrs. Nisbey-"
"I only know you as the plague of this
neighborhood. You plunder hen-houses, steal
geese, kill lambs, steal pigs, poison dogs,yes, and this young man would have fallen a
victim to your revenge, if the Almighty had
not interposed;-and now you will be brought
to justice."
George looked more surprised than Bess, at
that part of his uncle's remarks, which had
reference to himself; while the hag, standing
upon her toes, and stretching out her tawny
neck, and with the utmost anxiety depicted
in her haggard face, began,
" And for what will ye do me so? a poor,
friendless cratur? And how shall I live, if I
don't help myself? would ye have a poor cra




238     TIE FINLAND FAMILY.
tur starve? It's kilt I am, anyhow, to go all
day wi'out a bit to ate."
" You should have enough of everything,"
replied Mr. Bland, " if you would take the
advice of the good minister and the good ladies, who offered you a home and work, so
that you could live honestly; but this you
will not do; preferring to live your lawless
life. You will, therefore, be taken away from
this hovel, to-morrow, and lodged in prison,
where justice will be done to you, I assure
you."
SAh! now I know ye know me," exclaimed Bess. " Ye say ye know me not, but ye
lie! ye lie! Ah! sir Walther, ye canna harm
me in this frae counthrey. Misther George,
ye musna hear what I say. Be off, be off."
Then lowering her voice, as George retreated, she continued. " Now what's the matther,
Sir Walther, that ye came all the way till
this counthrey, sarching afther Bess to murther her? We are no more in ould Ireland,
where I done all my deeds to ye and yer dead
leddy. I was sorry I kilt her, but ye canna
harm me in this free land."
"What is justice in old Ireland, is justice
here," said Mr. Bland, mildly. " But I am
not the person you take me to be, I have only





STRANGE THINGS.


239


seen you prowling about the meadows and
woods; but I never spoke to you until now."
" Now but ye did!" replied she, earnestly,
" ye forget me, now I be old, Sir Walther, no
wonder-no wonder. I was young and tidy
and smart, and handsome as yer own leddy,
when ye kissed me and called me yer poorty
Bess, and made yer leddy mad. I was sorry
when I saw she was dead; and then I flew
off from ould Ireland, far away to this frae
counthrey. I wad tell no man this but yefor ye know'd it all the time. Och! ye be
the root of all my sin!"
" I am not the person you think me," Mr.
Bland replied. " I never was in Ireland. I
am an Englishman, and was never out of
England, until I came to this country. But
from your own confession you are a much
greater sinner than I before thought you, and
for your crimes you must suffer."
" As I suffer, so shall ye suffer; for ye be
the root of all my sin. Ye needna say, ye
never was in ould Ireland-ye lie! for I know
ye, Sir Walther-I know ye, tho' ye be gray
and the wrinkles be on yer face, and ye be
pale wid care and sorrow-Ye look ould and
full of trouble, and ye have cause to be so."
" You are a poor, mistaken wretch," said





240   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


Mr. Bland, feelingly, " and I pity you, because you have been so great a sinner; but
justice has overtaken you at last. God will
not always spare the guilty."
" Ow! ye murtherin ould villayn," she
screamed, as she threw up her arms wildly,
" I'll tache ye how to ruin a honest body. I'll
pizen ye afore mornin, I will."
" I am not afraid of you, Bess. It is not I
who will make you suffer for your crimes;
but the laws of this land will condemn you. I
shall say no more to you, but earnestly beg
you to repent of your past sins and prepare
for your certain doom."
" Well then, by the blood of the hooly
marthyrs, I curse ye," she cried out frantically. "Then may the praist curse ye, Sir
Walther! may all the saints in the calendar
curse ye! may all things be a curse to ye!
when ye ate an drink an slape, may ye be
cursed!"
Thus did this poor wicked creature go on
from one horrid imprecation to another, until
her profanity became so shocking to Mr.
Bland that he turned from her and hurried
away. When he related to George what Bess
had confessed, he felt more horror of her than
he ever did before; particularly after his





STRANGE THINGS.


241


uncle explained to him what he alluded to,
when he told Bess that his life would have
been sacrificed to her revenge, if God had not
mercifully interposed. George now saw the
necessity of having her imprisoned, and
brought to trial; and determined to have her
arrested the next morning.
When they returned home, they found
Donald at the house, and told him all that
passed during the interview with Bess, and
of their determination to remove her from the
neighborhood, and have her safely lodged in
prison.
Donald said he was truly glad to find that
there was something to be done in this matter at last. He mentioned how his mother
had tried every way to reform her, when she
first learned that there was such a poor woman in the neighborhood. She used every
persuasion to induce her to enter the service
of a farmer, who wanted some one to attend
altogether to his poultry. His mother, also,
offered to fit her out with clothing to enable
her to appear more respectable, in order that
she might begin an honest way of living;
and promised to give her all the advice about
the care of poultry that she could, whenever
it was needed. But Bess said she preferred
16





242     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
her vagabond life, " frae life," as she termed
it, and loved her "royal rags" better than all
the silk gowns the lady could give her, and
concluded by saying, that she " wad niver be
the farmer's nigger, for all his mony."
He said, moreover, that his mother did not
give up her benevolent endeavors to reform
the poor creature, though Bess refused this
offer, which was the best she could make; but
as often as opportunities occurred, she endeavored to bring her to a right sense of the
unprofitable, and sinful, and dangerous manner in which she was passing her days. At
first she listened with attention and respect,
but after a while manifested great impatience;
and the last time his mother had an opportunity to speak to her, she behaved so improperly, and was so profane, abusive and
violent in her threats, that she concluded to
let her alone, until she should become sick
and in want of human sympathy and aid.
" But I begin to think that will never be. She
has never been known to be sick while she
has lived there, and she seems as hardy as a
pine knot. But since that time," continued
Donald, " she has done all she could to injure
us; but we keep such good. guard, that she
has, as yet, never greatly harmed us. Some




STRANGE THINGS.


243


times she takes a goose out of the meadow;
which her dog is as expert at snatching up as
a cat is at catching a mouse. Sometimes she
will knock down a turkey out of the tree, or
pick up a stray chicken; but these things we
never care much for, because if she will live
such a vagabond life, the poor creature must
not starve."
"Yes," said Mr. Bland, "she is a poor,
pitiable wretch. Yet, we are to blame for al.
lowing her to live this depraved life. And
from her own confession, she must now be
imprisoned and brought to trial. It is too late
in the evening now to arrest her; as your
nearest magistrate is 'squire Keene. But he
must be spoken to in the morning."
" I will see him myself," said Donald, " as
his house is nearer to us than to you, and
will come here with him."
" Yes, do," said George. " I shall go with
'squire Keene and uncle, and should be glad
to have you with us too."
When Donald informed his parents of the
confession of Bess to Mr. Bland, they were
shocked and astonished. Mrs. Mason said she
always thought she must be some fugitive
from justice; because she was so hardened.
Captain Mason wondered when he heard





244   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


that "the old plague," as he always called
her, was still alive. He said he thought she
would have been frozen to death before this
time; for he had often heard of Mr. Finland
sending hands there in the deep snows, "to
dig the poor wretch out;" and all the thanks
she ever gave them was, to tHreaten that
" Brutus should see them off if they didn't
make speed."
The next morning, as soon as Donald could
find time, he went over to 'squire Keene's,
and informed him of what Bess had confessed
to Mr. Bland. The 'squire was enraged, and
said he had often spoken to " the select-men"
of the town about Bess, and that at one time
there was a majority for punishing the impious old wretch, and now, the time had come
at last; and that for his part, he would
take as much pleasure in roasting her, as he
would in " smoking a raccoon out of an old
tree."
" As soon as I get through my breakfast I
promise you I'll be coming along. Mr. Bland,
do you say? Ah! yes; that's the gentleman
that stops with ' Easy George' so long. He's
a fine old English gentleman, I know; but
there comes Hook. You're the very man I
wish to see."





STRANGE THINGS.


245


" I be, hey? Now du tell what you want to
have of me."
The 'squire then related to Mr. Hook all
that Donald had just told him.
" Wal--there now, you don't say! that vile
old witch! Wal, I'm the one to help put fire
to the fagots, I tell you. I've ben a thinking
on it ever since my barn was burnt. Nobody
set fire to my old barn but that are critter. It
was lucky nothing was in't but three turkeys.
I was a coming over yesterday to talk about
that are business."
" We must all meet at Easy George's house,
for she lives on his premises; and some o'
them will go with us. It will be a hard matter to get that good easy soul to help to punish
even such a witch as Bess."
"You really do not think her a witch,
'squire?" said Donald.
"What's the reason I don't? She's bewitched many a thing for me; my sheep and
one of my horses. My sheep have acted like
wild after she's been along; and my black
horse will no more go by that great stone
near the corner that turns to the path that leads
to the grave-yard, than he will climb to the
moon; and the day after I took the oxen to
that wood near by her hut, where Hardicus





246     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
helped to cut the log for the saw-mill, I say,
the next day the critters acted like mad."
" I want to know!" exclaimed the constable. "Du tell! Your oxen's most allers very
gentle; but critters remembers witches better
than people du. Wal, I'm a goin' that are
way this mornin', and I feel jest in the mind
to give her a warmin'. I'll meet you then
about ten o'clock, 'squire; good day."
When the hour arrived, the magistrate and
constable with Mr. Heaton, colonel Newbold,
deacon Framer, and two or three more of the
leading men of the town, met at Mr. Fin
land's. Mr. Bland and Mr. Finland, misconstruing some expressions of the constable and
'squire Keene, began to protest, at the outset,
against cruel treatment. Mr. HIeaton had
nothing to say; and seemed to be waiting to
find out first what the rest would determine.
'squire Keene and Mr. Hook were determined
to have things their own way; and said they
had a majority of the select-men on their side.
" I insist, at least," said Mr. Finland, " that
she first be imprisoned and have a trial."
" Wal, " said the constable, " we will first
take her to prison; but as to a trial, that's no
use. She's condemned already by a majority





STRANGE THINGS.


247


of the select-men, and that's all that's required. Aint that so, 'squire?"
" Yes," answered 'squire Keene; "that's just
the case-no judge or jury required with
witches. In the town where they have carried
on their black arts, the people have the power
to take, condemn and burn them, with the consent of a majority of the select-men. But to
satisfy our easy neighbor, we will first put her
in prison, for we couldn't very well burn her in
her den; for them stones and logs would take
a great sight of wood to make 'em go off."
" You cannot condemn a witch to be burned
by the laws of these United States without a
trial," said the colonel, with pomp. " Such a
law would pass a hundred years ago. But freedom has opened our eyes; and cruelty without justice will not now be allowed among
freemen, not even towards witches."
" Part of your decision," said Mr. Heaton,
SI like. That she should be imprisoned is
safest and best, and the sooner she is secured
the better; but that she should be condemned
and burned without a trial is unjust, and I
protest against any such proceedings. The
poor wretch may be a crazy woman, escaped
from some place of confinement; and her confession to iMr. Bland only a fabrication of an





248   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


unsettled.mind; for, you know, she would
insist that he was Sir Walter, whom perhaps
she has only dreamed of; or at most he may
be an imaginary personage."
" Wal, there aint no use, Mr. Heaton, sir,"
said the constable, " we all know Bess to be
a witch. She may or she may not be a murderer-that aint the question. She's a witch,
and it's for that she desarves to be burned.
There aint no use in tryin' to hang her. She'd
never die by hangin'. There aint no other
way that a witch can be killed but by burnin."
" I don't know about that," said Deacon
Framer. " But let us be going. This business
must be done up to-day. I am afraid she may
yet slip through our fingers."
Donald and George accompanied their
friends, with the other gentlemen and the
stern justice and constable, as they bent their
steps towards the abode of this poor, forsaken
sinner. The idea of her really being burned
was dreadful for them to think of, and they
began to regret that they had had any hand
in the matter; and determined that they
would do all they could to have her doom
changed to hanging.
" But," said Donald, " the 'squire really be




STRANGE THINGS.


249


lieves, with Mr. Hook, that it is not possible
to hang a witch."
" Yes, so he does. But what nonsense. It
does seem strange to me now that such people
can believe such absurd things. Let us propose having some silver bullets made, and
get the 'squire or constable, to shoot her."
" Agreed; we will try even that, before we
will have her burned."
By this time they came in sight of the hovel,
and George and Donald were amused to see
the squire and constable Hook, and the colonel
too, fall behind, and let Mr. Bland and Mr.
Heaton approach the hut before them.
Mr. Heaton knocked at the door, which
was shut; but no answer was given. By this
time the rest of the party came up.
" There is no need of knocking," said the
magistrate. " Just lift the latch, gentlemen,
and walk in."
" We had rather be excused," said Mr.
Heaton. " I feel more afraid of the dog than
of the woman. I was always afraid of dogs,
but never of witches."
" Wal now, it's jest the other way with'me,"
said Mr. Hook. " I want to know, 'squire, if
you will jest go in yourself fust."
" Why-yes," replied the 'squire, hesita




250    THE FINLA-N FAMILY.


ting. "I say, Bess, open the door, or we'll
knock it down. Eallo! there come out, you
divel!"
"Softly, softly," said Mr. Heaton. " She
is a woman, 'squire; only a poor, miserable
woman. I will try the door."
Mr. Bland then stepped forward and tried
hard to open the door, but it was fastened
securely.
" What is to be done?" asked he.
The 'squire's face was perfectly colorless,
and the constable's teeth absolutely chattered.
George and Donald exchanged an arch smile;
while Mr. Bland and Mr. Heaton looked
really troubled.
"Let me try," said Mr. Finland, coming
forward and putting his knee against that part
of the door where the hinges were; and at
one powerful effort both hinges gave way, and
the heavy door tottered and fell.
" Du tell!" exclaimed the constable, as the
contents of the dismal place caught his eye.
" You don't say!" responded the 'squire.
Mr. Finland staggered and almost fainted,
while George and Donald, who were foremost
of the party, clasped their hands and recoiled
in horror from the sight.
" 0 Lord! vengeance is thine," ejaculated





STRANGE THINGs.


251


Mr. Heaton; while Mr. Bland stood gazing
into that apartment of sin and crime like
one whose thoughts were looking into the future.
" The way of transgressors is hard," at length
he said; while the tears rolled down his mild,
expressive face. The first object that presented itself, when the door fell, was Bess; suspended from a beam by a short piece of rope;
-her long neck stretching out to such a
length as to make the toes of her bare feet
almost touch the ground; her wild eyes starting from her head-but we will not shock the
tender feelings of our readers by a further description of that awful sight.
" Cut her down," ordered the 'squire.
" I want to know who'll do't," said the constable.
Mr. Finland, Donald and George retreated
some paces; while Mr. Heaton     and  Mr.
Bland went forward into the horrible place;
and one taking hold of the feet, the other held
the shoulders, and cutting the rope, they laid
the miserable form upon the fallen door.
She was entirely dead, and perfectly stiff,
as if she had done the awful deed the day before; perhaps shortly after Mr. Bland's interview with her, when her violent frenzy drove





2052    T11 E FINLAND FAMILY.
him from her, sooner than he had intended
to leave.
What most struck the justice of the peace
with wonder was the manner in which the
corpse was attired. She looked as if she had
dressed with the sole purpose of exciting the
wonder of those whom she had to expect on
the morrow to convey her to prison.
She had on what had once been a rich blue
damask silk; but time and the dampness of
her cell had faded it, and spotted it with
mould. A rich veil of brussels lace, mildewed,
stained, and torn, enclosed her shaggy hair;
and, fastened together behind with a short
clasp of coral, fell. down over her shoulders.
Wide linen cambric ruffles, trimmed with lace
which had once been costly, hung from the
hems of the sleeves, which were tight to the
elbow. There stretched upon the door, lay
that strange and awful corpse; thus decorated
for the grave.
4VIr. Heaton took hold of one end of the veil,
and drew it over the ghastly features, so as
entirely to hide them from view.
"Gentlemen," began this good man of God,
"a coffin must be obtained as soon as possible, to bury this miserable corpse."
"Let the. divel burn her!" exclaimed the





STRANGE THINGS.


253


'squire.  Who but the old 'un could have
dressed her after that fashion? Now, I hope,
my good sir, you'll be convinced that Bess was
a witch."
" Wal!" exclaimed the constable, after
looking earnestly into the hut, " if thare aint
Satan himself in that 'are corner, I may
never!" pointing in a certain direction, where
might be seen the huge black snake, which
has been before described, coiled in several
folds. There it was, with its head entirely
severed from its body. Mr. Finland was sitting on the fallen tree, while George and Donald had returned to the fearful scene.
Mr. Bland put a stick under the body of
the serpent, and raising it up, brought it carefully out, and threw it as far into the thicket
as he could. In a dark recess, under a huge
rock in one corner of the hut, lay Brutus, with
his throat cut. A sharp knife lay in the middle of the floor, where, from the profusion of
blood, she must have done the cruel deed;
and traces from that spot to the kennel under
the rock were marked with blood, as if the
poor brute had crawled there to his bed to
die. A stout pole was stuck into the stone
wall, from  one corner of the room to the
other, upon which were thrown several good





254   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


blankets, one sheet, and a bed-quilt, with the
old rags, that Bess used to wear, and which
she boasted that she loved so much. A clean
place on the ground, covered with leaves and
straw, with an old cloak spread upon it, seemed to have been the bed of the poor outcast.
The fear of the 'squire and Mr. Hook seemed to give way to their curiosity, as Mr..Heaton and Mr. Bland went on in the examination of the hovel; particularly as the " old
sarpent" had been removed. They ventured quite in, and eyeing the bed-clothes on the
pole, Mr. Hook exclaimed,
" Wal! if there ain't my wife's blanket. It
hung out all night last week to dry, and in
the morning it was clean gone. See here,
M. H., Minerva Hook, that's the very identical blanket. This 'ere sheet too. I'm sure I
can't tell when that 'are went; but there's M.
H. on that 'are too; these 'ere's mine, anyhow."
" That bed-quilt certainly looks like one of
my mother's," said Donald, " but I will not
be too sure about it. Perhaps some kind soul
gave it to the poor wretch, as the cold weather
is approaching."
" That's my whip in that corner," exclaimed the squire. "It was taken out of my





STRANGE THINGS.


255


wagon two nights ago, when I was in meeting. What the old witch wanted with a whip
I'm sure I can't tell; but this is my new whip,
and I can take oath to that. I bought it at
Simon's store a week ago. You may compare it, gentlemen, with some he has there
now just like it. This whip I claim for my
property."
" If you are not afraid, gentlemen, to touch
anything which the reputed witch has handled, you had better take these things home
with you," said Mr. Heaton, " for they appear quite clean, and have only been hung
up for winter use."
1" To be sure-to be sure," said the Deacon.
While these gentlemen were claiming what
evidently belonged to them, Mr. Bland had
dragged out an old chest from behind the
door. He was much surprised to find it locked; but looking about, he saw a rusty key
sticking in the stone wall.
" Gentlemen," said he, " if you will assist
me to remove this chest into the open air, where
we can see more distinctly, and with your
permission as justice of the peace, Mr. Keene,
I will unlock it and examine its contents."
Mr. IIeaton lent a helping hand, and when
the box was relnoved from the apartment into





256     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
the light, Mr. Bland unlocked it. A heap of
rubbish filled it; with apparently nothing of
any value. Dusty, mouldy, mildewed rags,
an antiquated bonnet, and a ragged silk cloak
were taken by Mr. Bland from the chest
and laid upon the ground: A large old muff
came next; which had been the nursery, for
years, of hundreds of moths, which crept
about everywhere, while the fur flew around
in every direction, as it was thrown upon the
ground. Under these things, in confusion
appeared odd gloves, stiff with mould, and an
inkstand of pure silver, battered and empty.
A small roll of rags and papers, tied up, was
next thrown upon the ground.
" I'll open this 'ere," said Mr. Hook. "We
might as wal see what's in't."
" I vum!" he continued, as he shook them
out, " here's somethin', I guess; a little box
nailed down with these 'ere great iron nailsall the veneerin' broke off with 'em-no, what
is't?-ebony?-it aint ivory, anyhow-it's
mahogany, I guess. Yes, that's it-come,
hand over that 'are knife thare, with the dog's
blood on't. We'll see into it quicker-"
" Not much worth seeing, I guess," interposed the squire. " Let's see."
" Du tell!" continued Mr. Hook, as he





STRANGE TIHINGS.


257


drew out a small gold watch and chain, with
various trinkets attached to it. " And, golly!
if here aint finger-rings and breast-pins like a
jeweller's shop-but they'm all as black as if
the old sarpent had brought 'em through brimstone and fire-but they'mn gold, every one on
'em; I can tell by the heft."
Mr. Hook handed the things over to the
magistrate; who, after examining all, to make
sure of their value, pronounced them pure
gold, though cankered and bent and broken.
He then handed them to Mr. Heaton and Mr.
Bland, who quietly sat down by Mr. Finland
on the fallen tree to examine them. George
and Donald placed themselves behind those
gentlemen, and minutely looked at the various
articles, as they were handled by their friends.
" This," said Mr. Heaton, "was once a
splendid watch; of a suitable size for a lady;
and it evidently once belonged to one, from
the trinkets attached to the chain. Here are
the initials A. L. on it."
"Here," said Mr. Bland, " is a pure diamond ring. The gold is cankered; but I
have been rubbing it upon my sleeve until it
begins to show that it is pure gold. The
stone is as brilliant as ever. Here is A. L. in
the inside of this also."
17





258   TIIE FINLAND FAMILY.


"These old mouldy beads are pearl-real
pearl-but they are ruined-they are entirely
ruined," said Mr. Heaton, holding them up to
view. "These breast-pins and ear-rings must
have cost a great deal of money. And now
see-only behold-the bruised, miserable,
cankered things; the perishing pomps and
vanities of this wicked world."
" Here is a plain, gold ring, brighter than
the others; a broad, heavy ring; beautiful
still," said Mr. Bland, examining it closely.
" And look at this with your young eyes,
George. What is engraved in it here?"
George took it from his uncle's hand, and
after minutely examining it, said--
"Sir Walter Roy, Married to Anne Lord,
June 25, A. D., 1778."
" Alas!" exclaimed Mr. Bland, L this certainly is sufficient reason for believing the
confession of that poor, miserable wretch."
" She was the devil's own," said the 'squire.
" Mr. Constable, bring out the rest of the stuff.
I guess we'll find something to throw more
light yet on this tangled yarn."
Mr. Hook, now that he thought something
might yet be made out of old Bess-seeming
entirely to have forgotten that the things





STRANGE THINGS.


259


might be bewitched--went to work, and soon
brought out all the old shoes, odd gloves, old
scraps of stockings, comb-teeth, two rusty razors, in an ivory case, mildewed and black,
and an old woollen stocking tied up, which felt
so heavy, that he could not refrain from untying it at once. And opening and shaking
the old purse, he scattered about among the
stones more gold than the 'squire himself had
ever before seen.
" Count 'em, count 'em," exclaimed the
'squire.  "These goes to the town. They
must be divided among them that's been the
greatest losers by that old rogue. I guess she
stole half the worth of 'em from me."
" Wal," said the constable, "I guess she
stole as much as the other half from me,
counting the things she bewitched in the
number."
" Poor wretch!" said Mr. Bland. " You
remember, George, she always said she wanted none of our money. True, she had enough
laid by for years; but-" and the good man
wiped his eyes.
" You will take these valuables into your
possession, gentlemen," said Mr. Heaton to
the office-bearers; "and you will return here
this afternoon with a coffin, and bury this





260     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
woman in the ground. I cannot attend the
burial of such a suicide. There will be no
ceremony necessary."
Upon this they all left the desolate spot;
to which, after a few hours, suitable persons
were sent to do the last offices of humanity
for this poor outcast.  *   *    *    *
This horrid end of a miserable life Mr.
Bland took care to comment upon to his young
relatives and friends, and spoke wisely to
them of the guilt, folly, and danger of superstition, and the baneful effects which it produces upon its victims.
The young people at Mrs. Finland's were
shocked and grieved at this sudden and awful
termination of such a wretched life; and the
very word superstition ever afterward sounded
to them like murder and suicide.





XV.


ON the following Sabbath, Mr. Heaton took
occasion from the tragical event, to impart to
his startled parishioners, in a discourse of unusual interest to some of them, many wise
counsels on topics suggested to his highly
cultivated and somewhat speculative mind,
by an occurrence so strange and lamentable.
In the spirit of true benevolence, he very
kindly remarked, that the deplorable scene
at the hut in the wood might, after all, be
charitably regarded as the termination of a
very mysterious and mournful course of mental derangement. Thus regarding it, he spoke
with great judgment and much feeling, of the
mistaken views of many, by which miserable
maniacs, especially those who still retained
sufficient reason, at intervals, to be capable
of doing much mischief, were, in those days,
generally subjected to harsh treatment, of
cruel confinement, and separation from the





22      TiHE FINLAND FAMILY.
gentler influences of humanity; or left to follow, too long, the delusions of their own bewildered fancies, in the pursuit of dangerous
eccentricities of opinion and habits. He also
urged upon his hearers the importance of kindness and generosity towards all who, as "strangers and foreigners," might be brought within
the sphere of their influence, and become, in
any station, members of their favored community. He then made some striking observations on the evil influence of superstition, and
the folly and sin of cherishing any of those relics of heathenism which still existed in Christian communities in the form of lucky and unlucky signs; and alluded instructively to the
singular history of witchcraft in New England and other parts of America, and in Europe also, about a hundred years before that
time. Proceeding farther to a very intelligent notice of the important discoveries which
had recently been made by Dr. Franklin and
others in electricity, and of interesting experiments then in progress in galvanism and magnetism, and some wonderful performances related of some of the European philosophers,
similar to those which have since been attributed to animal magnetism, he suggested
that future discoveries or inventions in elec




MARVELS OF SCIENCE.


263


tricity, and kindred branches of natural science, might bring to pass facts still more
marvellous. He showed how, in such an advanced state of science, wicked, and even
conceited-though well-meaning--men might
be led astray, and delude others, by " science
falsely so called;" expecting, and sometimes
even pretending, to bring within the range
of human sciences, " the secret things which
belong to God;" and overlooking the real nature and high claims of divine inspiration,
prophecy, and miracles. He also reminded
his hearers, with reference to the confidence of
iany in vain signs, that all influence of such
error, in any degree, would tend to keep the
minds of some always prepared for the deceits
of impostors; who might yet again, by cunning craftiness, bring about periods of temporary delusion, as mysterious and mischievous
as that of Salem witchcraft or ancient necromancy itself. He added, that cordial trust
in God, according to the merciful and cheering revelations of His holy word, would always be found the surest safeguard against
a credulous and delusive reliance upon the
impositions of deceivers; and concluded with
fervid exhortations, which made a deep and
abiding impression upon many of his hearers;





264   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


and especially upon his intelligent and
thoughtful young friend, George Finland.
The next day brought about such a singular
association of incidents, as to a superficial
observer, is liable to appear almost unseemly;
and gave an amusing, and even farcical, relief from the gloom which an event so shocking as the suicide of a poor, forsaken outcast
could not fail to cast over the well-ordered
community of a New England township of
that period. It was "Training day;" the
grand holiday of the autumnal parade of the
militia; and according to the usage of the
time, Mr. Heaton had, at the request of the
commander of the day, offered prayers, about
the middle of the afternoon, in the open air,
in the midst of the soldiers, drawn up in a
hollow square, in due order of the military
art; when, at the suggestion of an enthusiastic
drummer, who was somewhat in advance of
his comrades, in science as well as in military position-being, in addition to his other
accomplishments, an approved teacher of common schools for winter-it was determined that
Mr. Heaton should exhibit to the soldiers a
new " electrical machine," which had a short
time before been procured for the academy of
the village. Accordingly, the " wonderful





MARVELS OF SCIENCE.


265


thing" was brought forth and placed at one
corner of the hollow square; and after Mr.
Heaton, in few words, had stated some of the
curious facts and phenomena that might be
shown by the apparatus-meanwhile arranging and charging the machine as he was talking-he requested the soldiers all around to
join hands. Then, nodding gently to the scientific drummer, who stood at one extremity of
the line of soldiers, he caught the hand of the
dignified commander at the other extremity,
on his left, and touching the little knob with
the tip of his finger, as if he were only making
a signal to the drummer, who had just clasped the jar with his left hand,-before the
boys standing around had time to think how
it was done,-there were the broken ranks of
bold soldiers, some on one foot and some on
the other, with their arms thrown up in very
comical positions, and looking, in general,
much like Robinson Crusoe's man Friday,
when he first put his fingers into boiling water.
A few were actually laid sprawling on the
ground; and hardly one of them could have
been more amazed, if he had been really rapped on the knuckles or head by invisible
imps; especially as some of them-under the
influence of their third or fourth dramn of





266   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


ardent spirits, which had just been dealt out
at the public cost, according to the mistaken
custom of those days,-doubtless had, at that
moment, many an image of such tormenting
attendants, dancing about their brains.
At first many of the military men were
much enraged; and in the excitement of their
chagrin, at having their ranks broken so unceremoniously by " the parson," were ready
to make an assault upon the innocent man,
and the equally innocent machine. But happily their muskets had been all stacked, before prayers, at some distance from them, on
the other side of the parade-ground. And
when they regained their arms, remembering
what Mr. Heaton had said about the wonderful power of electricity, to run " like lightning" on a rod of iron or steel, and having
no silver bullets ready to shoot at " the witch,"
they thought best to keep at a respectful distance from "the critter;" as the more eloquent had already begun to term it, with an
exalted idea of its powers and faculties.
Just then, however, the good old physician
of the village came riding alqng, on his return from a visit to a distant patient; and
alighting from his carriage, andbeginning to
handle the thing very familiarly, performed





MARVELS OF SCIENCE.


267


some amusing experiments, for the entertainment of the grinning boys and gaping men,
who still stood looking in wonder at the
" curious" conqueror of the militia.  And
learning, much to his own amusement, what
the parson had been doing, with a few humorous remarks, he soon reconciled even the offended soldiers to the good minister; and did
not a little to strengthen the confidence of
young and old in the ability and skill of " the
doctor," as well as in the expediency of " occasional innovations upon the old order of
things," in science and the useful and fine arts.
At a later hour that evening, amid the beauties of autumnal twilight, there might be seen a
man of thought, with placid brow, and gentle
mien, pacing the winding path of a rural retreat, evidently engrossed with meditations
of deep and absorbing interest, but cheering
and animating, in a high degree. It was the
earnest and faithful man of God, reflecting
with lively hope, and confidence in heavenly
truth, upon the significant emblem which his
own hands had a few hours before developed,
in the scene atlthe parade-ground, of the final
triumph of the gospel of peace and good-will.
He thought with joy of the blessed time when
the word of God should enlighten all the





268     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
earth; when men beating their swords into
ploughshares, and their spears into pruninghooks, should learn war no more; when nation should not lift up sword against nation,
but the wolf dwell with the lamb, and the
leopard lie down with the kid, in peace. He
rejoiced in the thought of increasing facilities for the extension of the gospel, to be afforded by farther inventions in useful arts, and
discoveries in sound science, ever the handmaid of true religion. He found much satisfaction in anticipating, in such visions of the
future, a wide sphere of usefulness, appropriate to the intelligent and zealous of the
gentler sex, who might be animated by a desire to elevate the position of woman, and advance the happiness of the down-trodden of
the earth.  And his cheerful countenance
glowed with ardent faith, and hope, and love,
as ejaculations of fervent praise and prayer,
and solemn resolution, broke from his lips, and
were registered on high.





XVI.


YEARS passed on; but not without some
changes in the families of Mr. Finland and
captain Mason; the saddest and most deeply
affecting of which was the death of Mr. Bland.
He seemed to have been sent by Divine Providence into the family of Mr. Finland, for
the purpose of enlightening and guiding the
interesting relatives of his lamented wife.
A lengthened account of this good man's illness and death is not necessary. Suffice it to
say, that he died as he had lived, so full of
faith and trust in God, that many, when they
heard the particulars of his last moments,
were led to exclaim, " Let me die the death
of the righteous, and let my last end be like
his." His large property he directed to be
divided equally among Mr. Finland's children; with the exception of a legacy of a
thousand dollars to Mr. Heaton.





270   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


George had been the constant companion
of this good uncle during his last illness, and
had observed with wonder his patience, humility and triumphant death.
The loss of this beloved friend was long
felt and sincerely mourned, by his relatives
and acquaintances. The afflicting dispensation made a deeper impression upon George,
than upon any other member of Mr. Finland's
family. It confirmed him in the truth and
value of the blessed religion of the gospel,
while it convinced him of the shortness and
uncertainty of human life.
As time passed away, domestic happiness,
in the families of Mr. Finland and captain
Mason, continued to increase. The good captain remained at home with his beloved ones;
diligently adding the important influence of a
faithful and judicious father to that of a tender and watchful mother, to confirm his precious offspring in all uprightness and piety.
Meanwhile the increasing attachment between
Donald and Mary was remarked with heartfelt pleasure by both families.
The time had at length arrived when Donald was no longer to be a happy youth at
home; daily relying upon the wise counsels
of his pious mother, and the generous support





RELATIONS CHANGED.


271


of his father. Stern ' twenty-one' announced
the time for him to leave the parental roof,
and seek in the bustle and turmoil of the
world a support for himself. Donald had become an excellent manager of affairs; his diligence and perseverance were universally
known among his friends and acquaintances;
and his solid education had well fitted him
for a mercantile life. Captain Mason had acquired an ample fortune; but Donald had too
much independence of character to stay at
home, and quietly, in selfish ease, enjoy the
hard-earned gains ~of his generous father,
whose daily thought and wish, in the acquirement of wealth, had been that his wife and
children might reap the fruits of his toilsome
life. Donald now made known the wishes of
his whole life; first, that his parents would
consent to his union with Mary, at some
future day; and that they would encourage
his wish to be established in business for hinself.  To the first request they responded
promptly and cheerfully; for Mary was almost as dear to them as their own daughter,
But the second required more deliberation.
They had never thought of such a separation
from their beloved son; and though he could
be established in one of the large cities not





272   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


very far distant from them, yet to be deprived
of his society,-accustomed as his mother and
sister had been for years to see him every
day-was a trial, from the very thought of
which they shrank in sadness. A few days
of deliberation ensued, during which Donald
saw his sister's eyes often red from weeping,
and her tender manner towards him was
affecting in the extreme; while his mother
would go about so quietly, and gaze at him
so tenderly, that he began to feel that such a
separation would be to himself a greater sacrifice than he had imagined. His father, too, had
been very reserved and thoughtful, and when
he told him one day that he wished to walk
with him, Donald began to hope that the suspense which had agitated them all for some
time would prove the hardest part of the trial.
But his hopes vanished, and his heart sank,
when his father thus addressed him as they
walked slowly on, in the direction of the
house of his beloved Mary..
" My dear child," began this good parent,
" we do not know how to be separated from
you. To me the trial would not be so hard;
for I well remember how I have been strengthened and supported in my past life, when
obliged to leave my dear wife and young chil




RELATIONS CHANGED.


273


dren for years. I could give my consent to
your being so short a distance from us; but
how to say yes, when your mother and sister
feel so much opposed to it, I do not know.
They have not said a word in opposition to
your wishes; but their looks, their tears, their
tenderness towards you, wring my heart, and
I cannot decide that it is best for you to leave
us."
" I have deeply felt all you have said, my
father. I have observed with agonized feelings the deep, heartfelt love of my mother,
and my almost angel sister; and I tremble
when I fear that I am their idol. O! it is
fearful thus to love any earthly object. But
my dear father, if I ever get into business for
myself, the sooner I begin the better."
" That is so, certainly; but, my son, there
is no need of that--none in the world. I
have enough for us all. Bring Mary among
us. It will only add to our happiness, to have
her always with us. She is very, very dear
to us."
" Ah! my beloved father, you are kind, indeed. But I love Mary too much to let her
feel dependent even upon such a generous parent as she would find in you. No! I must
feel independent myself. I am young and
18





274   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


healthy, and you have, up to tlis time, had
nothing but expense and trouble with me. I
have passed my time here at home much as
my sister has done, and I feel that I cannot
think myself a man until I have exerted myself to live like one."
" You are right; I know you are quite
right, Donald. I had just such feelings myself, at your age; and if you will soften this
matter to your dear mother and Anna, I will
no longer withhold my consent. I will, moreover, establish you handsomely in business,
and your life as an active man shall have a
good start. You will feel more self-respect I
know, my son, and without a feeling of that
kind no honest man can be happy. You will,
as you have said, feel more independent and
manly after you have been more from home;
actively employed in business. But your
mother and sister, and Mary, too, what will
they think, if I allow you to leave us?"
SAh! it is only my loving mother and
Anna that I am to reconcile to this separation.
Mary has long since known all my dearest
wishes, and loves me more for my earnest desire to help myself. She will be perfectly
coitented and happy at her home, which she
has determined not to leave until George re




RELATIONS CHANGED.


275


turns from college. Your consent has removed a weight of care from my mind, and Ican
persuade mamma and Anna to anything, even
to sending me away."
Donald looked more happy and cheerful
when they arrived at Mr. Finland's, than he
had done for months. A stroll in the garden
with Mary completed his happiness; though
it left a shade of sadness upon her beautiful
face which lingered there a long time.
Donald did not find it an easy or a pleasant
matter to induce his sister and mother to part
with him.   They acknowledged, however,
that his wish to be actively employed was
very natural and proper; and said that they
reproached themselves with selfishness for
wishing to detain him at their quiet home;
and after much earnest conversation, they
promised to overcome their feelings and make
every preparation that their beloved one
should require for his comfort. The scene of
parting, at the last, was too touching for feeble pen to portray.  *     *    *     *
Captain Mason saw his son liberally established in New York, and felt confident from!his education and habits that he would prosper.     *      *          *   *      *
George was still at college, where lie be




276   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


came more and more convinced that it was
his duty to become a student of divinity.
Some events in his early life had made a deep
and lasting impression upon his mind; particularly the conversations and advice of his
lamented uncle Bland. He was soon to graduate, and was determined, with the consent
of his friends, to enter at once upon his theological studies.
After the lapse of a few months, George is
again with his beloved family. He has closed
his course at college with many honors, and
is quietly enjoying himself with his friends.
" Ah! George," said Mary, " we thought
you would feel satisfied with study after you
graduated, and now you think of devoting
yourself for years to theological studies.".
"Yes, my dear sister, that is my determination; and with the help of God, I hope for
success. He has shown me many mercies,
and I will do what I can in my Master's service."
All his friends seemed pleased at this decision of George; particularly Mrs. Mason.
She had often thought this the very calling
for one who was a ready writer, and such a
fluent speaker as her friend George. Anna
expressed nothing in words, except the pleas




RELATIONS CHANGED.


277


ure she knew it would give Donald to hear of
this determination; saying how happy he
would be when he visited home, always to
find George; for Mr. Heaton had consented
to take charge of his studies; and truly the
poor minister was glad to have this opportunity of adding something to his scanty support, even in those days when the salaries of
clergymen, in general, were more nearly equal
to their need than at present. Donald had
now become well-established in business, and
promised to spend a few days at home before
George again gave his mind to his books.
And when the letter came to Anna saying
when they might expect him, all was joy and
excitement in the two families. Willie, when
he heard that Donald would come to see him
the next day, began to clap his hands and
dance about the room as he used to do when
a very little boy, and would still do when excited with pleasure. The parrot screamed
and made so much noise that his father begged the child to sit down until the bird was
still.
Willie sat down by him and began talking
quite soberly, " Did Donald get home tonight, father? and will he be here to-morrow,
really?"





278     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
" Yes, Willie, your mamma has invited
them all to spend to-morrow with us, and I
think we will be very happy."
" Ah! but suppose it should still be raining
as it is now, what should we do? For I have
so many things to show Donald."
" Never fear, my boy, even if it should continue to rain, they will come over in their
close carriage; and when we once get them
here we can find enough to amuse ourselves
and our friends, even in the house."
The morning came; the sun broke through
the dark clouds and shed his golden rays over
trees, hills and meadows. The glittering
drops of rain which hung upon every leaf and
blade of grass, like diamonds, were warmed
and then chased away, until not a drop was
to be seen of the evening shower. But the
freshness and beauty of the landscape were
most charming to behold.
George rose early, and determined to surprise his friends by breakfasting with Donald.
He dressed in haste, and drawing on his thick
boots was soon on his way to the old mansion,
wherd he arrived just in time for a warm
breakfast.
' Ah! George," said Donald, " how glad I
am to see you; if I had not overslept, I should





RELATIONS CHANGED.


have met you half-way; for I determined last
night, if it were clear this morning, to breakfast with you."
" You shall not be disappointed then, you
shall breakfast with me; for if I breakfast
with you, it is just the same as if you breakfasted with me."
" Ah! George," said Anna, " now y6u talk
just as you used to do when it gave you so
much pleasure to ridicule and laugh at your
sisters and me."
" He is still the same dear George, though he
is so devoted to his books, and I am very glad
that he knew that I wished to breakfast with
him," said Donald, still keeping up the joke.
" Anna has grown so reserved herself," said
George, "because she knows I am to be a
minister, that she thinks the change is in me.
But Donald, you know me better, you will
not find me changed in that respect, except
that my friends are dearer to me than ever."
Donald put his arms about his friend; while
Anna turned toward the window to hide a
strange emotion, which had of late tormented
her whenever George addressed a word to her.
Just then the good captain came in, and
shaking George heartily by the hand, said,
" How glad I am to see you so early. This





280   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


lazy chap intended to pop in upon you this
morning just as you have done here; but you
know he is a city gentleman now, and I suppose he would not get his boots wet for the
world. However, I really did not think we
should see the sun this day, for the moon does
not change until the day after to-morrow."
" Take care, my dear sir," said George, " I
think I shall be obliged to recall the parrot's
salutation, ' works of darkness' to your mind,
if you do not leave off your dependence upon
the moon."
" But, my dear boy, we sailors always consult the moon to find out the weather. You
don't suppose that you can teach an old seacaptain anything about the weather, do you?"
" Perhaps not about the weather; but I begin to think that I know as much about the
moon as any sea-captain."
"' Well, what do you know about the moon?
Come, my boy, let us have it. I have travelled more than you, that is certain; but perhaps I have never got any nearer to the moon,
after all."
"I think," said George, very modestly,
"that the light of the moon may have some
effect in dispelling clouds. But there is never
any reason for attributing a change in the





IRELATIONS CHANGED.


281


weather to that change in the moon, which
is commonly supposed to take place between
the several quarters of the moon's course;
while it waxes and wanes from month to month.
The truth is, that the moon changes every day
and every hour continually. It changed as
much yesterday as it does to-day, and as
much also the day before yesterday. And it
will change no less to-morrow, and the day
after, and so on, through the whole month and
year."
" Well done! well done! quite like a book,"
said the captain. "I know that every word
you have said is true. And I have often asked
myself why any sudden change in the weather
should be expected from the moon at any
particular time, since the changes of the moon
are so constant and gradual. But the moon
certainly has some effect upon thle tides,
George. What say you to that? How did
you learn so much about the moon, my boy?"
" From books, my dear sir. You can learn
everything from books; from the researches
of persevering, wise men, who have made
their names immorfal. Yes, I believe all
agree, that the tides are affected by the moon.
As to the actual influence of the moon upon
plants and animals, through its reflected light,





282   THE FINLAND FA MILY.


and indirectly through the tides and vapors,
which are somewhat dependent on its position, from time to time, nothing can be said
with entire certainty. Science and observation only enable men to make vague conjectures concerning the moon's influence; which,
by some unaccountable error, has been magnified in the minds of many, into the chief
source both of good and evil to animal and
vegetable life."
George paused; and captain Mason said,
"Very well read, very well, indeed. I should
think you had committed it to memory from
some of the wise books of which you speak.
But come, we have kept you too long from
the table. Sit here; that is Donald's place,
you know, when he is with us."
The good captain then raised his heart and
words to God, for a blessing upon the repast,
which was cheerfully enjoyed by this happy
circle.
All was hurry and preparation, at Mr. Finland's, for the expected friends. Patty, who
was now nearly grown, was dressed in her
neatest; and looked as bright and happy as
a bird. She was ready to run, walk, or stand,
just as the directions should require, and was
truly one of the most serviceable members of





RELATIONS CHANGED.


283


the household. Jim, who was still in the service of his easy master, and knew exactly
what part he was to take in this dinner party,
felt as consequential as any one, and looked
perfectly satisfied with himself.  He had
learned to bow in the most approved style,
and could open the door of the coach, and
take down the steps with as much grace
as any footman in the world.  And there
was Judy,-faithful, happy Judy,-with her
cheerful face and ready laugh, her head
crowned with a pure white handkerchief,
wound around like a turban, and made to
stand as high as possible; setting off her
glossy face and dancing eyes to perfection.
She was still not old, and was the best cook
in the neighborhood. She and Hardicus had
received from Mr. Finland a legal emancipation, and, for their fidelity and services, a small
house, and a few acres of land, about half a
mile from the " great house," but near enough
for Judy to come over every day and take her
place as formerly in Mr. Finland's family;
for so accustomed was she to living with
" Miss Fanny," as she still called Mrs. Finland, that it would have grieved her " almost
to death" if another cook had been- taken in
her place. As to Hardicus, lie seemed entire




284     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
ly satisfied with his freedom. He would work
a little in the garden at the " great house,"
when he felt like it; and when he received,
now and then, a few shillings from Mr. Finland for his work, he invariably said, "Pshaw!
massa, 'taint wof while; dis nigger nebber
want nottin while you lib." His own little
home he kept in perfect order. His chickens
and cow were great favorites with him; and
he would sit still for hours on the sunny side
of his house, smoking his pipe, and musing on
his happy lot. Jim, who had become a great
favorite with the old man, had called in the
night before, to invite " uncle Hardicus" to
come over to the great house the next day; for
" Mr. Donald" was coming with the rest, and
he was sure Mr. Donald would feel quite disappointed if he did not see " uncle Hardicus."
The next day the old. man dressed himself
with the utmost care. His gray beard was
closely shaven, and his white locks were brushed back from his forehead. His clothes were
new and clean, and his shoes as bright as a
brush could make them. His "Sunday hat"
was put on; and with the handsome cane in
his hand, which captain Mason had brought
him as a present from his brother, he started
slowly on his way, followed half the distance





RELATIONS CHANGED.


285


by his flock of chickens. The company were
all assembled, when he reached the "great
house." Jim did not wait for him to go
" round to the kitchen," but met him at the
gate, and then ushered him into the parlor,
as he had been previously directed to do, by
Mr. Finland. At the door Jim took his hat
and his cane from him, and stood looking on
with the utmost pleasur6, while Hardicus, entering the room with his best bow, was gratified by receiving the smiles of the company,
and a hearty shake of the hand from Donald.
"'Deed, massa Donald, I so glad to see
you; you welcome home agin, I's sure. Old
massa, you real glad dis day; dat I know.
And massa, how does you do? and massa
George too? You look up agin, now massa
Donald git back. You not a bit happy when
massa Donald gone. The ladies all well I
hope;" and bowing respectfully to them he
again stood erect and silent. They all expressed their pleasure at seeing him; and
Donald said that " uncle Hardicus" seemed
to stand still, and that he did not look any
older than he did ten years before. Hardicus
felt quite flattered by this remark, and after
a little more time spent in the parlor, shuffled
off briskly to look " arter Judy."





286   THE FINLAND FAMILY.


And there, too, were the Rose and the
Lily; the Rose more beautiful than ever, but
with a dewy sadness sometimes beaming from
her eyes; for Donald had come to claim her
for his own, and to take her from the loved
paternal home; and in a few days she would
be in a great city, with but one beloved friend
near her. The Lily looked drooping; though
evidently striving to *enjoy the sunshine of
happiness around; while Willie, who had become rather more sedate, sat quietly observing
all that was going on. Mr. and Mrs. Finland
looked perfectly contented with themselves,
and with every one else. There was Leo, too,
creeping soberly about. The traits of the
kitten had left him, and it sometimes seemed
quite an exertion for him to catch a mouse.
The canaries sang as merrily as ever. But
Poll was old and stiff, and had quite forgotten
the salutation to George, who had been so
much from home for several years.
The dinner being ended, all retired for a
few hours; the gentlemen to such amusement
as they fancied, and the ladies to make preparations for the evening; when Mr. Heaton
was to come and unite Donald and Mary in
that bond which death alone should sever.
Swiftly flew the hours away. The friends





RELATIONS CHANGED.


287


were again assembled. The holy man of
God was there with his loving helpmate.
The parties stand; the vows are made; the
hands are joined, the pledge is given; the
benediction said, and Donald and Mary are
man and wife.
The next day many friends and neighbors
were invited to meet at the ' old mansion,'
and many happy faces were there, and an oldfashioned merry-making followed.
" How can we let her go?" said Anna to
George and Elizabeth, as they strolled away
at sunset from the merry company.
SAh! how can we?" echoed Elizabeth.
"It will be hard indeed," sighed George.
" But you must now be sisters."
He stopped abruptly, while a deep glow
suffused his face, as Anna's hand trembled
on his arm. Elizabeth looked up at him with
an arch smile; but observing his evident
emotion she did not speak. For some time
she had remarked a strange reserve between
Anna and her brother. Their confiding,
child-like manner had given place to a polite
attention. Those who had always lived with
them observed this with unfeigned regret.
George would speak of this change in Anna,





288     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
while she seemed to feel that the change was
only in himself.
They did not wander far, but soon returned
and joined the merry guests. *  *  *  *  *
A few days elapsed; and after a tender
parting with loving relatives, kind friends and
devoted domestics, Donald and Mary took
their seats quietly in a stage and were hurried
away to the new home which had been purchased and furnished for the bride.
Months passed-George meanwhile devoting himself to his studies. He found in Mr.
Heaton an able and pious guide. The study
of the holy scriptures occupied much of his
time, and his way was made plain before his
face. Letters came every week from Donald
and Mary; which were very cheering to the
loving hearts at home. Anna was making
preparations to spend some weeks with them,
though she felt sad at the thought of leaving
her dear parents even for so short a time; and
made Elizabeth promise to see them every
day, and that when she could not go, George
would.
Weeks passed away after Anna's departure,
and a quiet so strange rested upon the inmates
of the 'old mansion,' that captain Mason
begged his friends to give Willie to himh, un




RELATIONS CHANGED.


289


til Anna should return. The child was delighted at the proposition, and was led off in
triumph by the captain, who soon found him
an effectual means of driving away the stillness. A few letters passed between George
and Anna during her absence, and brought
peace and happiness to them both. And
when she returned, Elizabeth kissed her tenderly and whispered softly " my sweet sister."
A few months more, and friends are earnestly
looking forward to the time when George
would enter on his sacred duties. A calm
and peaceful feeling fills his mind, and an
earnest wish to do all for his Master's glory.
Mr. Heaton knows him to be truly pious,
and can give full testimony to his thorough
preparation for his labors. He cheers and
encourages him to the last, and breathes a
prayer of thankfulness as George plights his
vows of faithfulness in God's service.
But a gloom is spread over this happy circle; and not only among those with whom the
reader has become acquainted, but over the
whole parish. Mr. Heaton had been called to
a more eligible and important situation; for
which he was peculiarly qualified, and where
he would have more ample opportunity of imparting his knowledge to others. Exertions
19





.90 V   THE FINLAND FAMILY.,
were made to retain him. The good man
sought counsel from the Lord; and duty bade
him go.
One more act of kindness George required
at his hands before they parted; to meet him
in the house of God, and unite him to his
chosen, worthy helper, the gentle and judicious Anna. This last act of kindness done,
sad hearts attend the good man on his way,
and many weep at his departure; none more
sincerely than the Finlands, to whom, from
the first visit to their hospitable dwelling, he
had been a messenger of good. Even Hardicus and Judy, and Patty and Jim, as well as
little Willie-now a very manly boy-shared
in the general regret. And throughout the
whole community, from the bold colonel, the
intelligent physician and the good sea-captain,
to the port-constable and the new farmer-a
warm-hearted son of the Green Isle, whom
captain Mason had brought from New York,
when he left Donald there-few could be
found, who were not ready to acknowledge,
in grateful remembrance, their obligations,
under God, to the good minister, for the salutary influence of his brief residence among
-them, and his constant, cordial interest in the
temporal and spiritual welfare of all.





IELATIONS CHANGED.


291


George was desirous to devote himself to
the blessed work of missions to the heathen;
which was already exciting the attention and
sympathy of many Christians. He earnestly
cherished the conviction, that the best security against the prevalence of hurtful superstitions in Christian lands was to be found in the
influence of lively sympathy for degraded and
benighted pagans, and zealous efforts for their
conversion. Anna, also, had been enthusiastic upon this subject, even from the time when
her father sojourned in foreign lands. But
situated as she was, she felt that duty to her
parents must prevent her from accomplishing
the cherished wishes of her heart in this respect. She was always ready, however, with
her exemplary parents, to second every effort
of her zealous and judicious husband; who,
with a singular forecast, devoted himself, and
much of his ample property, to the important
object of extending among young men of talents and piety a suitable preparation for that
great work of Christian benevolence.
It had become, with him, a leading sentiment, among the thoughts by which his practical piety was directed, that the prevailing
indifference of Christians of the nineteenth
century, to the spiritual wants of the benight




292     THE FINLAND FAMILY.
ed pagans still overspreading the earth, was
nothing else than a dull twilight of Christian
love and zeal at the very mid-day of religious
light and knowledge. With his view of the
manifest claims of the destitute and degraded
heathen upon the earnest sympathy and zealous efforts of their fellow-creatures blessed
with the light of the everlasting gospel, he
thought it not incredible, that the just judgment of the All-wise might yet leave many
of the ungrateful inhabitants of favored Christian lands to be sadly deluded, in spiritual
things, by fancies taken for facts. And with
regard to every worthy object of benevolence,
whether connected with the temporal or the
spiritual interests of men, he strove, not only
by casting away the works of darkness, but
also by putting on the armor of light, to be an
effectual example of TRTST TN GOD.


THE END.