CHAPTER IV.

NEW FRIENDS.

THE day but one after Edah's expedition to Raeburn, she was at work in the little parlor, engaged in cutting out some garments for Pauline, who was sitting conning her spelling-book, in which she had made considerable progress sines her illness. Mrs. Champlin rarely left her room till after dinner, and Susan had gone out to do some errand in the village. Suddenly Pauline uttered an exclamation—

"See, sister, what a beautiful carriage is stopping here, with two ladies in it, and a black man driving, and they are getting out! What beautiful horses!"

Edah looked out; and recognized Captain Laurence's carriage, which she had seen at the church door the Sunday before, and she saw that Mrs. and Miss Laurence were preparing to descend. Hastily drawing her work into smaller compass, and glancing at the little glass to see that her own dress was in order, she advanced to the door to meet them, followed by Pauline, whose ordinary shyness was conquered by her curiosity.

Mrs. Laurence had been pleased with Edah's appearance the Sunday before, but she was not altogether prepared to find her so finished and graceful in her manners as she now appeared.

After a few minutes conversation, Edah excused herself, and went up stains to call her mother, but Mrs. Champlin declined descending, and, indeed, the bare idea seemed to throw her into such a flutter of nervous agitation that Edah did not press the matter, but went back to her visitors.

She found Mrs. Laurence talking to Pauline, and Annie looking at the books on the table—mostly her own property, and among which were several French and German volumes.

"Do you read German, Miss Champlin?"

"Yes," replied Edah; "I have rather a passion for it just now, and brought some new books with me, but, as you may imagine, I have had but little time for reading."

"You must persuade Miss Champlin to come and help you out of some of your difficulties, Annie," remarked Mrs. Laurence. "My girls and boys are quite German-mad just now, but having no teacher, they do not make very rapid progress. Have you made many acquaintances here?"

"Very few," replied Edah. "Some of the neighbors were very kind during Pauline's illness, but I have scarcely been out at all. I should not imagine that there was much society here, from what I have heard and seen. I feel the want of a church more than any thing."

"Yes, it is a great pity that there is none here. Mr. Willson has sometimes held a service in the school-house, and I believe it has been well attended; but his health is not very strong, and he has charge of two parishes already, so he cannot do much for Brooksville. I believe there is not even a Sunday School here at present."

"Sam told me, Miss Laurence, that you had one at the Mills every Sunday afternoon," said Edah, "and I have been quite desirous to hear more about it. Will you tell me something of your mode of proceeding?"

"Oh, it is very simple. I began with about ten children who lived in the immediate neighborhood, and who met me in the district school-house every Sunday afternoon. Now my number has increased to forty, some of whom live at quite a distance. We meet at three o'clock in summer, and at two in winter, and after prayers and singing, I hear them recite lessons of three or four verses from the New Testament, often setting the older children to hear the younger ones, and I ask them questions, and explain to them the lesson for the following Sunday. Then comes a short recess, after which they recite the Apostles Creed and some part of the Commandments, and then comes singing again. They then exchange their books, or take their little papers, and go home. Our whole session lasts about two hours."

"Do you not find it difficult to fix the attention of so many?" asked Edah.

"I have had very little trouble thus far, and, indeed, I have succeeded beyond my hopes. Many of the parents have become interested in the undertaking, and drop in towards the close of school, ostensibly, of course, to take Billy or Nancy home with them, so I often have quite a congregation. I find it something of a trial to stand up and speak before so many; but I do not like to discourage their coming, and so I keep on, though I often wish that some gentleman would take my place."

"I think the school has done a great deal of good," remarked Mrs. Laurence. "It has been the means of bringing a good many families to church, and under the influence of the Rector, who could have been reached in no other way."

"If I were likely to remain here, I think I would try to begin something of the kind," said Edah; "but my stay is very uncertain. Polly dear, there is sister Susan coming in: go and ask her to come here."

Susan entered the room, after she had disposed of her bonnet and shawl, and Edah presented her to the ladies. But all Mrs. Laurence's kind attempts to draw her into conversation were unavailing: she preserved an absolute silence, or replied only in monosyllables. At last, the visitors rose to go, not, however, before it was arranged that Edah should come over the next Saturday, and spend Sunday at Spring Bank.

"We shall send the carriage for you early on Saturday," said Miss Laurence, "and you may expect to be attacked with grammars and dictionaries the moment you enter the house. Poor Addison will be quite comforted at the prospect of some relief, for I left him in a fit of black despair over a scene in Wallenstein."

Edah laughed, and promised to render all the assistance in her power to the distressed young gentleman, and the ladies finally departed.

"Mrs. Laurence left her kind regards for you, mother," said Edah, entering her mother's room, "and hopes she shall have the pleasure of seeing you at Spring Bank as soon as you are well enough."

"I am much obliged to her, I am sure," god Mrs. Champlin, rather shortly.

"They are very condescending indeed," said Susan; "we might have lived here to the end of time without their troubling themselves about us, if you had not come."

"That is hardly fair, Susan," returned her mother. "Mrs. Laurence came and called on me when I was first married, and invited us there, but we never went, even to return their calls. I always felt as if they were quite too grand for me to associate with, but if they have taken a liking to Edah, I am glad of it, for it will give her some society such as she is used to."

"Well, for my part, I don't like to be patronized," said Susan, rather sharply.

"I am sure Mrs. Laurence's manners are not at all patronizing," said Edah; "and certainly she did her best to be polite to you, but you would not say a word. I was really vexed with you."

"You wanted me to display my ignorance and awkwardness as a set-off to your elegance, I suppose," said Susan; "but I knew better."

"For shame, Susan; you are really downright uncivil to Edah."

"Edah gets plenty of flattery without my help," replied Susan. "She would be quite spoiled, if I did not contradict her sometimes."

"Thank you, Susan," returned Edah, laughing good-humoredly, though the color had risen at her sister's rudeness. "I don't think you will ever do much harm in that way; if I did not know that your bark was worse than your bite, as Ruby-Anne elegantly says, I should be really afraid of you. But have you any objections to my accepting the invitation, mother?"

"Not at all, my dear; I shall be very glad to have you go. The Laurences are really excellent people, and very fond of books and all such things, and you will enjoy yourself very much."

The week passed quickly away, as it always does with busy people, and Edah was busy enough just now in replenishing Pauline's wardrobe, and in helping Susan to refit hers, which was scanty enough. Edah would have been glad to be permitted to furnish her with some materials for new garments, but this Susan steadily refused.

"You do as much as you ought, and more than your share, in clothing Pauline. Father knows how much I am in want of clothes, for I have told him time and again, but he finds it pleasanter to spend what money he gets in liquor and cigars than to lay it out for his family. It is a sin and a shame, and it's a wonder if I don't tell him some day."

"Pray don't," said Edah; "you would only make things worse."

"I don't suppose it will do any good; but it is enough to drive one mad to see him losing his time, and wasting what little he does earn, while we are really suffering for the necessaries of life. But as for having you spend all your money in buying things for us, I won't, and that's all about it: not but that I am very much obliged to you for the offer."

After some consideration, Edah made up her mind to speak to her father herself upon the subject of Susan's wardrobe, and she took an opportunity when they were alone together one afternoon.

"Father," said she, "do you know that Susan has hardly clothes enough to make her comfortable?"

"Why don't she go to work, and make some then," asked her father, lighting his cigar.

"She has nothing to make them of, and no money to buy materials," replied Edah.

"Let her set about something useful, and earn them then. She is old enough to provide for herself instead of hanging about doing nothing from morning till night."

"Doing nothing?" said Edah indignantly; but recollecting herself, she went on quietly. "I do not think you have any idea how much work it is to take care of mother and the baby. It is one person's work to attend to them, and Polly needs almost as much care just now as Eddy."

"You make a perfect fool of that child, running after her so much," exclaimed her father, angrily: "as for your mother, she is more notional than any thing. If she had any energy, she would be well enough."

Edah's temper had nearly reached the boiling point; she dared not speak, lest she should say something very unbecoming, and prudently kept silence.

"If Sue is so very destitute, why don't you make over some of your own finery to her? I am sure you are well enough provided, and old Liston has nothing to do but to buy you more, when that is gone. He can well afford to let us have some of the money he has cheated his clients out of."

Edah's indignation would certainly have boiled over at these words, but on looking at her father, she saw that he was excited by drinking. She took up her work, and was going out of the room, when he called her back.

"Don't be in such a hurry," he said. "If the girl wants clothes, she must have them, I suppose. There are five dollars for her, and she must make it do as well as she can, for it is all she will get from me. If she wants more, she must go to work and earn it."

Edah took the bill, and thanked her father, though it was rather difficult for her to do it with a good grace.

As soon as she had composed herself a little, she showed the money to Susan, proposing that they should go out directly, and buy what was most needed. Susan joyfully consented, and they set out on a shopping expedition, which was not very extensive in its range, as there were only two shops in the place.

Susan showed a great deal of prudence in disposing of her small amount of money, and Edah, who had never been accustomed to any exact economy, was surprised to see how far five dollars might be made to stretch.

The rest of the day was spent in cutting out work and sewing. Sam came in while they were busy.

"I wish you would give me some sewing," he exclaimed; "you seem to be having such a nice time over it."

"Suppose you get a book and read to us," said Edah; "that will help us a great deal. I can sew twice as fast with some one reading."

"That is a good idea," remarked Susan: "do, Sam, there's a good fellow, and you shall have some pancakes and maple sugar for your supper."

Sam took his book accordingly, and the afternoon passed very pleasantly for all parties. Susan provided the promised pancakes, which were pronounced capital, and the reading was resumed in the evening, Edah herself taking the book, when Sam appeared tired.

"How beautifully you read!" said Mrs. Champlin. "It is a real pleasure to hear you."

"There, mother," said Sam, laughing, "you never said a word about my reading."

"Oh, well! You do the best you can, and that is all one can expect; but I suppose you don't pretend to come up to Edah."

"Indeed, I think Sam reads very nicely," said Edah, "and he has certainly been very obliging this afternoon. But it is bedtime—" looking at her watch: "How fast the evening has gone! Suppose," she added, with some hesitation, "we finish our reading with a chapter from the Bible."

"A good thought!" said her mother. "Sam, bring your sister the book."

Edah selected a chapter from the New Testament, and read it aloud. No remarks were made at its conclusion, and after a moment's silence, the party separated, Edah feeling quite satisfied with the way in which the day had been passed.

Two hours later she heard her father's step at the door, and knew but too well in what condition he was likely to be. She was about descending to let him in, and had put on her wrapper for that purpose, when she heard Sam go down, and by mingled force and entreaties, persuade his father to lie down on the sofa instead of going into his mother's room. Poor Sam! It was not the first time he had been a witness of his father's degradation.

Edah no longer wondered at her mother's frequent irritability and constant depression of spirits, and she resolved to do all in her power, while she remained at home, to lighten the burden which weighed her down. She prayed, though with an almost despairing faith, for her father's reformation and conversion, and then lying down, she endeavored to forget her troubles in sleep.

By nine o'clock on Saturday morning, the carriage was at the door to convey her to Spring Bank, and bidding her friends good-by, she seated herself in the roomy family barouche, and was soon at the door of Mr. Laurence's substantial, old-fashioned stone house. Miss Laurence and her brother came to the door to welcome her, and conducted her into the parlor. Edah felt herself restored, as it were, to her native air. The handsome curtains and carpets, the rich old-fashioned furniture, the piano, and the numerous books and portfolios scattered about the large apartments, all seemed like old friends.

Louisa Laurence, the lame sister, was fully as attractive in her appearance as the other ladies of the family, and Edah felt herself at once at home.

After a few minutes' conversation, Edah was shown to her bedroom, and having refreshed herself by a bath and a change of dress, she descended once more to the parlor. This room opened, with large long windows, upon a wide piazza, from which a terraced bank descended nearly to the margin of the river, which here rolled its clear waters in a winding course through beautiful meadows, dotted here and there with large trees, and speckled with grazing cattle and young horses. The view was limited by high pine-covered hills, of no very friendly aspect, which shut in the valley on all sides, and seemed to leave no place for the river to get out.

The young people were soon engaged in a German lesson, and between reading, laughing, and talking, the hours passed swiftly away till dinner-time, when Captain Laurence made his appearance. He was a tall, stately old gentleman, with fine manners, and a noble head and face, and Edah was greatly taken with him at first sight.

After dinner, the youthful party sallied out to explore the grounds, and especially to visit the spring, from which the place took its name. This spring poured out in a copious stream from among some loosely-piled rocks, about half-way down the natural terrace on which the house was situated, and ran with a broad and clear but shallow current across the meadow into the river. The spring itself was protected from the approach of cattle by a pretty rustic railing, and seats of the same character were placed around it, under the shade of some fine old forest-trees that overhung the rippling waters.

"What a lovely spot!" exclaimed Edah.

"This spot, you must know, Miss Champlin, is my sister's sanctum," said Addison Laurence, in a tone of mock earnestness. "In this sacred inclosure, visited only by singing birds and gentle breezes, and serenaded by the murmuring murmur of the murmuring stream, she spends her hours in pensive retirement, far from the vulgar cares—"

"Now, Addison, hold your peace! This tormenting brother of mine, Miss Champlin, takes it upon him to hold me up as the most sentimental of young ladies, whereas I am one of the most active, bustling, practical housewives in this world, as he knows right well. But because I have once or twice chosen to walk out here by moonlight, he represents me as a perfect Lydia Languish."

"You do not look much like it, that is certain," retorted her brother, laughing. "What with your long walks and your pony-rides, you more resemble Miss Hoyden."

"If a love of moonlight be a symptom of sentimentalism, I must plead guilty to the charge myself," said Edah. "I should like to see this prospect as it looked by moonlight fifty years ago."

"You would have seen a wild plain," returned Addison, "and instead of the lowing of cows and the bleating of sheep, you might chance to be serenaded by a panther crouched in the lower limbs of that old oak, or a chorus of wolves from the neighboring swamp. Even within my recollection, the wolves have come down within a mile of the house, and I well remember hearing their doleful music on many a still winter's night."

"What is it like?" asked Edah.

"Like no other noise you ever heard. It is worth while to hear them for once, for the sake of knowing what fearful sounds can be produced by brutal organs. But if you love wolf stories, Miss Champlin, you must persuade my father to tell you some of his early experiences in this country; and now, Miss Languish, it is time we were retracing our steps, if we are to reach home before dark."

The evening was spent delightfully to Edah, between music, lively conversation, and the wolf and Indian stories of the old Captain, who was delighted with having a new listener to his oft repeated tales. Edah was much pleased with the manners of these young people towards their parents and each other. Annie seemed to devote herself especially to Louisa, watching her every motion, anticipating her wants, and hardly, as it seemed, giving her time to form a wish, while Louisa, on her part, seemed fully to appreciate her sister's kindness. She did not, as is some times the case with confirmed invalids, receive every attention as only her due, nor was she indifferent to the trouble she caused to those about her. The deformity of her figure was not at all observable, except when she walked; and as she sat in her large chair, Edah thought she had never a more lovely picture of gentle contentment.

As the clock struck ten, the music suspended, and the work put away. Addison brought a small table to the side of his father's chair, upon which he placed a Bible and Prayer-Book. The servants were called in, and after the singing of the evening hymn, in which all joined, Captain Laurence read a chapter in the New Testament, and then all united in prayer.

Edah's thoughts wandered a little. She could not help contrasting the household in which she then was with that to which she must soon return, and the wish arose in her mind that the lines had fallen to her in as pleasant places as they seemed to have done to Annie Laurence.

"We breakfast in good season on Sunday morning, Miss Champlin," said Mrs. Laurence, as they separated for the night, "in order that the servants may be able to go to church, if they wish."

"And we dine in good season, that Annie may have time to go to her ragged-school at the Mills," added Addison. "I presume, Miss Champlin, you will be expected to visit that wonderful institution, and hear my pious sister hold forth like a preaching woman-Friend to lumbermen and their dirty ragged children."

"I hope to do so, at any rate, if your sister will permit me," said Edah, feeling that she did not like the superfine Mr. Laurence any the better for this speech. "I am very much interested in the account she has given me of her labors there."

"Oh, there is no fear but she will let you. She is as proud of her school as my father of his colts and young cattle—only the colts are the more respectable of the two."

"You must not mind what Addison says," said Annie, laughing, though Edah thought she seemed a little hurt. "He gave me ten dollars to provide books and so forth for my ragged regiment, without my even asking him."

"Why, as long as you persist in spending your time so, I think it is better to do the thing creditably; and after all, it is a harmless amusement enough. Everybody likes to have something to patronize—it is human nature!"

"But not the nature of Mr. Addison Laurence, I suppose," said Louisa.

"Oh, I bestow it all on my horses and dogs, saving what little I find it desirable to expend on yourself, my fair lady. But I must needs be allowed my liberty at present, for when Dick comes home, the majority will be so strong against ma that I shall not dare to open my mouth from one week's end to another."

"If you keep silence for an hour at a time, it will be what you have never done in your life before," said his mother; "and now please to take your candle and disappear. You have illustrated yourself sufficiently for one night."

Edah did not feel at all sleepy when she reached her room, and she sat down to think over the events of the day. What a long day it seemed! She could hardly bring herself to believe that she had been only twelve hours at Spring Bank, and she began already to dread the time when she must return to her father's house. This feeling increased as she went on contrasting the two families in her mind, and she began to feel as if it were impossible for her to return to Brooksville to live.

"But how foolish I am!" she said, rousing herself from her reverie. "If this is the way I am going to be affected by the visit, I had better have stayed at home."

Then repressing by a strong effort any further indulgence in the same train of thought, she fixed her mind upon her Bible reading, and after praying especially to be delivered from the temptations of wishing to lay down the cross, she soon fell asleep.

The bell rung in good season next morning, but Edah was up and dressed before it sounded, and when she descended to the drawing-room, there was no one there. She was standing at the open window, enjoying the beautiful view, and drinking in the fresh morning air, when Annie joined her.

"I have been looking for you," she said, kissing her, "but you are too prompt for me. Is not this prospect beautiful under the morning sun? How strange it is that people can prefer to shut themselves up in cities, when they can have such beautiful sights and sounds, at so much less expense."

"But in winter," said Edah, "do you not feel it rather dismal here when these hills are covered with snow? I should think they would then be rather unfriendly in their aspect."

"Not to me," replied Annie. "I was born and brought up among them, and these bristling pine tops, which look so dreary to strangers, always seem to welcome me back, like old friends, when I have been away a while. Before the railroad was made, indeed, we were a good deal out of the way of society in winter, but we had a very large family at home then, and a governess to keep us at work. If we did not get many new books, we made the most of what we had; and though our papers and letters were often two weeks old before they reached us, they were all the more welcome when they came. But now that my sisters are married, and Henry and Dick are away, we do not regret that the means of communication are more easy."

"Then you have other brothels and sisters besides Miss Louisa and Mr. Laurence!"

"Dear me, yes! Did you not know it? I have two married sisters living in Boston, and two brothers older than Addison. Henry is in the Navy, and Richard is studying in New York. He will be ordained in the fall, and then he is coming home to make a visit. I hope you will see him. He is very different from Addison, who pretends to stand in great awe of him. Harry has been away so much that I scarcely feel acquainted with him. He has a sweet little wife, who usually spends her summers with us, but she is on the sea-coast this year. And now you have our family picture-gallery displayed, and my exposition is ended in good season, for there is the bell. We will go into the breakfast-room, if you please."

All the family, including the servants, were collected in the breakfast-room, as our two young ladies entered, and as soon as they had taken their seats, prayers and a lesson were read by Captain Laurence as before. Addison made his appearance when breakfast was half over, apparently in no very good humor.

"Do you not think, Miss Champlin, that it is a barbarous practice to have breakfast so early on Sundays?" he said, as he took his seat.

"On the contrary, it seems to me a very good arrangement," replied Edah; "especially when one lives at a distance from church, as it leaves the servants time to get ready."

"Much they care about it," muttered the young gentleman. "But really now, don't you think the human constitution was originally so formed as to require an extra quantity of sleep every seventh day?"

"I shall not dispute the point," said Edah, good-humoredly; "I can only say it is not so with mine."

"Oh, I see the girls have gained you over to their side entirely. The majority against me was bad enough before; it is overwhelming now. I have no longer any thing for it, but to confess myself a heathen man and a publican. Mamma, I am ready to rise at three, next Sunday, if it so please you."

"Half-past seven will do for a beginning, my son; and now, if you have finished your coffee, we will adjourn, for I see it is verging towards nine o'clock."

The ladies rode to church in the barouche, while Captain Laurence and his son followed on horseback. Edah was much pleased to see Sam waiting for her in the porch, when they descended from the carriage.

"How are all at home?" she asked, as she shook hands with him.

"All about as usual," replied Sam. "I heard baby cry a good deal in the night, and Polly has completely wearied us all, asking when you will be home."

"Allow me to introduce you to my brother Samuel, Mrs. Laurence," said Edah, presenting him to that lady.

Mrs. Laurence shook hands with him kindly, as did also Mr. Laurence and Addison.

"Will you not return to Spring Bank to dinner?" asked Mrs. Laurence. "We shall be very happy to have you do so. I have often observed your brother in church, Miss Champlin, and have been desirous to make his acquaintance. You must come with your sister, Master Samuel, and make us a visit."

"And then, if you like fishing, we will find some first-rate trout streams," added Addison; "though I dare say you know all in the neighborhood already."

Sam expressed his thanks, not at all awkwardly, but said he must return home after church, as he would be wanted.

Edah felt proud and pleased to see him appear so well, and to perceive that he had made a favorable impression, for she had grown very fond of the boy. There was a good deal of staring and whispering, as she took her seat with the Laurence family, and she began to think she must be a person of considerable importance.

Mr. Willson was not a remarkably talented preacher, and his manner was not impressive; but Edah was pleased and interested with the sermon, which was both plain and practical. She could not help thinking that it must be very hard work to preach to such a listless, inattentive congregation, and she thought of a remark she had once heard a clergyman make:

"People are loud in their demands for smart preachers," he said, "but they never reflect that preachers have an equal desire for smart hearers."

In the Laurence family, however, he had as attentive listeners as any one could desire.

They dined early, as Addison had prophesied, and then Annie invited Edah to accompany her to her school, an invitation which she gladly accepted, and they were soon on their way "across lots," as we say in the country, preferring the green meadows and river banks to the dusty high-road. Mr. Laurence had taken the pains to have several gates made, and some bridges built over the little streams in the way, for Annie's accommodation, for he was very proud of his daughter's earnestness, though he sometimes professed to think that she carried it a little too far.

A walk of half a mile brought them to a small stone school-house, on the banks of a pretty rapid stream, which came down to meet the river, and on which were built a flouring-mill and two saw-mills.

A number of children were already collected around the door and under the trees which shaded it, and more were seen coming along the road, or over the fields, all hastening not to be late. Annie went round among them, calling them all by name, and inquiring after fathers and mothers, aunts, sisters, and grand-parents, till Edah wondered how she could remember so many different names. Looking at her watch, she announced that it was time to begin school, and accordingly the children flocked into the school-house, and seated themselves in an orderly manner—two or three tall girls seeming to take a certain supervision of the littler ones.

There were about thirty present in all. The exercises commenced by calling the roll, to which the children responded. At the name of the first absentee, Annie stopped:

"Has any one seen Nancy Wood to-day?"

"I see'd her as I was a-coming along," responded a little white-headed, bare-footed Irish boy, "and she said she would not come to-day, because her daddy was sick; but she wanted me to tell you she knew her lesson, and would you please send her a book, and I am to tell her what is the next lesson."

Pat seemed quite abashed at having made such a long speech, and hid his face behind his sister as he concluded.

"Nancy shall have a book," said Annie, smiling, "and I am much obliged to Patrick for offering to take it to her;" at which Pat held up his head again, and appeared very highly delighted.

After the roll was called, Annie read a few verses from the New Testament, and then the children united with her in the Lord's Prayer, which they all repeated distinctly, and with decent propriety, which might shame some more educated boys and girls. Then began the lessons.

Annie divided the school into two classes, and giving one to Edah, proceeded to hear the other herself. Edah was surprised at the correctness with which the verses constituting the day's lesson were repeated, and still more, upon questioning them, to find them displaying such knowledge of the Bible generally.

"It is almost their only book," said Annie, upon Edah's remarking this to her afterwards, "and they become very fond of reading it. In my visits among them, they often bring their Bibles to me for explanations of difficult passages, and, I assure you, I am often puzzled how to answer their questions."

When all the lessons were recited, Annie gave them a short recess, saying, as she did so—

"I know I need not tell you not to make a noise, and not to go away from the door."

At the end of ten minutes, they were again called in by the bell, and took their seats as before, but with the addition of two or three stout-looking men, and several women, who sat down near the door. These were the fathers and mothers of some of the children, who had walked some of them two or three miles, as they said, to see their little ones safe home.

Annie took her station behind the teacher's desk, and after giving out the lesson for the next Sunday, proceeded to explain it in simple terms, with such illustrations and anecdotes as were likely to make an impression on their minds. Her voice, which trembled a little at first, soon became firm, and she seemed to forget that she had any other listeners than the children.

Edah observed that more than one of her grown-up auditors seemed considerably affected, especially one rough-looking man, with shaggy beard and whiskers, and accompanied by a dog as shaggy as himself.

The Apostles' Creed was now repeated by all the children standing, and the services closed by the singing of a hymn and the distribution of library books, two or three of the women taking books or tracts for themselves. The children were then dismissed, and quietly took their way home, comparing their books and talking as they went. The bearded man lingered a few minutes about the door, and Edah thought he seemed desirous of speaking to her companion, so she walked to the other end of the room, and busied herself in putting in order the library books, which were contained in a neat case, with a lock and key.

After a few moments she heard Annie say:

"I wish you would go and talk to Mr. Willson, Mr. Van Dake. He would gladly give you all the instruction you want, and do it much better than I can."

"I kind of hate to!" said Long John, twisting his cap in his hands. "The parson's always dressed so nice, and every thing about him is as fine as a fiddle, and I am such a rough customer—"

"Did you ever know him refuse to go anywhere or do any thing for any one?" interrupted Annie. "Don't you remember how he used to go up to Brunker's last winter, day after day, when their boy broke his leg?"

"He did, that's a fact," said John. "The parson's a clever man, I don't deny. The truth is, I believe, I am afraid folks will laugh to see me running after such things."

"But that is not right," returned Annie. "'The fear of man bringeth a snare,' the Bible says; and besides," she added, smiling, "I should think a man who had killed a bear and two panthers, fighting hand to hand, need not be afraid of a few people in Raeburn!"

Long John colored through his bronzed skin.

"I am a fool to mind it, and no mistake!" said he. "Well, Miss Annie, I believe I'll take your advice, and go to the minister. I wonder what my good old mother would say to see me in Sunday School. But better late than never, they say," and with a bow, which was not at all awkward, he departed, followed by his dogs, and leading his little daughter by the hand.

"That is a curious personage," said Annie, as they walked back to Spring Bank. "He lives in a little hut on the mountain yonder, with no companions but this little child and his dogs, and an old but white-headed negro woman, who is his housekeeper. At first, he sturdily refused to let Agnes come to the school, but she finally coaxed permission, and came with some children of their nearest neighbor—a very decent Scotch family. After a while, he used to come and wait for her at the door, and finally I persuaded him to come in and sit down. Now he is as regular in his attendance as any of the children, has left off drinking and swearing, never hunts on a Sunday, and I hope he is in a fair way of becoming a Christian man. We must persuade Addison to ride up there with us some time: his hut is a perfect curiosity, and there is a splendid view from it. He found out from Addison last spring, that Louisa was fond of painting wild-flowers, and hardly a week has passed since then that he has not brought her a splendid bouquet. I must show you her portfolio."

The rest of the day passed pleasantly and quietly, and the next afternoon Edah was conveyed back to Brooksville, as she steadily refused the pressing invitations of her friends to spend another day. Mrs. Laurence placed in the carriage a basket containing some beautiful fruit and other delicacies for Mrs. Champlin, and Annie sent Pauline two or three little books, which her little nieces had left behind the summer before.

She found all at home glad to see her, especially Sam and Pauline. Susan was a little inclined to be sullen at first, but she relented at the sight of the basket which Mrs. Laurence had sent her mother, and allowed that they were indeed very kind. Pauline was pleased with her books, and delighted to see her sister again; and on the whole Edah did not find it so difficult to reconcile herself to her return as she had at first feared.