Pray, miss," turning quickly to me, "what might your man
give for the place?"
"Three hundred pounds in cash."
"Poor sufferer!" again sneered the hag. "Four hundred dollars is a
very SMALL profit in as many weeks. Well, I guess, you beat the
Yankees hollow. And pray, what brought you here to-day, scenting
about you like a carrion-crow? We have no more land for you to seize
from us."
Moodie now stepped forward, and briefly explained our situation,
offering the old woman anything in reason to give up the cottage and
reside with her son until he removed from the premises; which, he
added, must be in a very short time.
The old dame regarded him with a sarcastic smile. "I guess, Joe will
take his own time. The house is not built which is to receive him;
and he is not a man to turn his back upon a warm hearth to camp in
the wilderness. You were GREEN when you bought a farm of that man,
without getting along with it the right of possession."
"But, Mrs. R - -, your son promised to go out the first of
sleighing."
"Wheugh!" said the old woman. "Would you have a man give away his
hat and leave his own head bare? It's neither the first snow nor the
last frost that will turn Joe out of his comfortable home. I tell
you all that he will stay here, if it is only to plague you."
Threats and remonstrances were alike useless, the old woman remained
inexorable; and we were just turning to leave the house, when the
cunning old fox exclaimed, "And now, what will you give me to leave
my place?"
"Twelve dollars, if you give us possession next Monday," said my
husband.
"Twelve dollars! I guess you won't get me out for that."
"The rent would not be worth more than a dollar a month," said
Mr. - -, pointing with his cane to the dilapidated walls.
"Mr. Moodie has offered you a year's rent for the place."
"It may not be worth a cent," returned the woman; "for it will give
everybody the rheumatism that stays a week in it - but it is worth
that to me, and more nor double that just now to him. But I will not
be hard with him," continued she, rocking herself to and fro. "Say
twenty dollars, and I will turn out on Monday."
"I dare say you will," said Mr. - -, "and who do you think would be
fool enough to give you such an exorbitant sum for a ruined old shed
like this?"
"Mind your own business, and make your own bargains," returned the
old woman, tartly. "The devil himself could not deal with you, for I
guess he would have the worst of it. What do you say, sir?" and she
fixed her keen eyes upon my husband, as if she would read his
thoughts. "Will you agree to my price?"
"It is a very high one, Mrs. R - -; but as I cannot help myself, and
you take advantage of that, I suppose I must give it."
"'Tis a bargain," cried the old crone, holding out her hard, bony
hand. "Come, cash down!"
"Not until you give me possession on Monday next; or you might serve
me as your son has done."
"Ha!" said the old woman, laughing and rubbing her hands together;
"you begin to see daylight, do you? In a few months, with the help
of him," pointing to Mr. - -, "you will be able to go alone; but
have a care of your teacher, for it's no good that you will learn
from him. But will you really stand to your word, mister?" she
added, in a coaxing tone, "if I go out on Monday?"
"To be sure I will; I never break my word."
"Well, I guess you are not so clever as our people, for they only
keep it as long as it suits them. You have an honest look; I will
trust you; but I will not trust him," nodding to Mr. - -, "he can
buy and sell his word as fast as a horse can trot. So on Monday I
will turn out my traps. I have lived here six-and-thirty years; 'tis
a pretty place and it vexes me to leave it," continued the poor
creature, as a touch of natural feeling softened and agitated her
world-hardened heart. "There is not an acre in cultivation but I
helped to clear it, nor a tree in yonder orchard but I held it while
my poor man, who is dead and gone, planted it; and I have watched
the trees bud from year to year, until their boughs overshadowed the
hut, where all my children, but Joe, were born. Yes, I came here
young, and in my prime; and I must leave it in age and poverty. My
children and husband are dead, and their bones rest beneath the turf
in the burying-ground on the side of the hill. Of all that once
gathered about my knees, Joe and his young ones alone remain. And it
is hard, very hard, that I must leave their graves to be turned by
the plough of a stranger."
I felt for the desolate old creature - the tears rushed to my eyes;
but there was no moisture in hers. No rain from the heart could
filter through that iron soil.
"Be assured, Mrs. R - -," said Moodie, "that the dead will be held
sacred; the place will never be disturbed by me."
"Perhaps not; but it is not long that you will remain here. I have
seen a good deal in my time; but I never saw a gentleman from the
old country make a good Canadian farmer.
