I clung to my solitude. I did not like to be
dragged from it to mingle in gay scenes, in a busy town, and with
gaily-dressed people. I was no longer fit for the world; I had lost
all relish for the pursuits and pleasures which are so essential to
its votaries; I was contented to live and die in obscurity.
My dear Emilia rejoiced, like a true friend, in my changed
prospects, and came up to help me to cut clothes for the children,
and to assist me in preparing them for the journey.
I succeeded in selling off our goods and chattels much better than
I expected. My old friend, Mr. W - -, who was a new comer, became
the principal purchaser, and when Christmas arrived I had not one
article left upon my hands save the bedding, which it was necessary
to take with us.
THE MAGIC SPELL
The magic spell, the dream is fled,
The dream of joy sent from above;
The idol of my soul is dead,
And naught remains but hopeless love.
The song of birds, the scent of flowers,
The tender light of parting day -
Unheeded now the tardy hours
Steal sadly, silently away.
But welcome now the solemn night,
When watchful stars are gleaming high,
For though thy form eludes my sight,
I know thy gentle spirit's nigh.
O! dear one, now I feel thy power,
'Tis sweet to rest when toil is o'er,
But sweeter far that blessed hour
When fond hearts meet to part no more.
J.W.D.M.
CHAPTER XXVII
ADIEU TO THE WOODS
Adieu! - adieu! - when quivering lips refuse
The bitter pangs of parting to declare;
And the full bosom feels that it must lose
Friends who were wont its inmost thoughts to share;
When hands are tightly clasp'd, 'mid struggling sighs
And streaming tears, those whisper'd accents rise,
Leaving to God the objects of our care
In that short, simple, comprehensive prayer -
ADIEU!
Never did eager British children look for the first violets and
primroses of spring with more impatience than my baby boys and girls
watched, day after day, for the first snow-flakes that were to form
the road to convey them to their absent father.
"Winter never means to come this year. It will never snow again?"
exclaimed my eldest boy, turning from the window on Christmas Day,
with the most rueful aspect that ever greeted the broad, gay beams
of the glorious sun. It was like a spring day. The little lake in
front of the window glittered like a mirror of silver, set in its
dark frame of pine woods.
I, too, was wearying for the snow, and was tempted to think that it
did not come as early as usual, in order to disappoint us. But I
kept this to myself, and comforted the expecting child with the
oft-repeated assertion that it would certainly snow upon the morrow.
But the morrow came and passed away, and many other morrows, and the
same mild, open weather prevailed. The last night of the old year
was ushered in with furious storms of wind and snow; the rafters of
our log cabin shook beneath the violence of the gale, which swept
up from the lake like a lion roaring for its prey, driving the
snow-flakes through every open crevice, of which there were not a
few, and powdering the floor until it rivalled in whiteness the
ground without.
"Oh, what a dreadful night!" we cried, as we huddled, shivering,
around the old broken stove. "A person abroad in the woods to-night
would be frozen. Flesh and blood could not long stand this cutting
wind."
"It reminds me of the commencement of a laughable extempore ditty,"
said I to my young friend, A. C - -, who was staying with me,
"composed by my husband, during the first very cold night we spent
in Canada" -
Oh, the cold of Canada nobody knows,
The fire burns our shoes without warming our toes;
Oh, dear, what shall we do?
Our blankets are thin, and our noses are blue -
Our noses are blue, and our blankets are thin,
It's at zero without, and we're freezing within!
(Chorus) - Oh, dear, what shall we do?
"But, joking apart, my dear A - -, we ought to be very thankful that
we are not travelling this night to B - -."
"But to-morrow," said my eldest boy, lifting up his curly head from
my lap. "It will be fine to-morrow, and we shall see dear papa
again."
In this hope he lay down on his little bed upon the floor, and was
soon fast asleep; perhaps dreaming of that eagerly-anticipated
journey, and of meeting his beloved father.
Sleep was a stranger to my eyes. The tempest raged so furiously
without that I was fearful the roof would be carried off the house,
or that the chimney would take fire. The night was far advanced when
old Jenny and myself retired to bed.
My boy's words were prophetic; that was the last night I ever spent
in the bush - in the dear forest home which I had loved in spite of
all the hardships which we had endured since we pitched our tent in
the backwoods. It was the birthplace of my three boys, the school of
high resolve and energetic action in which we had learned to meet
calmly, and successfully to battle with the ills of life. Nor did I
leave it without many regretful tears, to mingle once more with a
world to whose usages, during my long solitude, I had become almost
a stranger, and to whose praise or blame I felt alike indifferent.
When the day dawned, the whole forest scenery lay glittering in a
mantle of dazzling white; the sun shone brightly, the heavens were
intensely blue, but the cold was so severe that every article of
food had to be thawed before we could get our breakfast.
