On Reaching The Ridge Of The Hill, The Lovely Valley In Which Our
Future Home Lay Smiled Peacefully Upoon Us From Amidst Its Fruitful
Orchards, Still Loaded With Their Rich, Ripe Fruit.
"What a pretty place it is!" thought I, for the first time feeling
something like a local interest in the spot, springing up in my
heart.
"How I wish those odious people would give us possession of
the home which for some time has been our own."
The log hut that we were approaching, and in which the old woman,
R - -, resided by herself - having quarrelled years ago with her son's
wife - was of the smallest dimensions, only containing one room,
which served the old dame for kitchen, and bed-room, and all. The
open door, and a few glazed panes, supplied it with light and air;
while a huge hearth, on which crackled two enormous logs - which are
technically termed a front and a back stick - took up nearly half the
domicile; and the old woman's bed, which was covered with an
unexceptionally clean patched quilt, nearly the other half, leaving
just room for a small home-made deal table, of the rudest
workmanship, two basswood-bottomed chairs, stained red, one of which
was a rocking-chair, appropiated solely to the old woman's use, and
a spinning wheel. Amidst this muddle of things - for small as was the
quantum of furniture, it was all crowded into such a tiny space that
you had to squeeze your way through it in the best manner you
could - we found the old woman, with a red cotton handkerchief tied
over her grey locks, hood-fashion, shelling white bush-beans into a
wooden bowl. Without rising from her seat, she pointed to the only
remaining chair. "I guess, miss, you can sit there; and if the
others can't stand, they can make a seat of my bed."
The gentlemen assured her that they were not tired, and could
dispense with seats. Mr. - - then went up to the old woman, and
proffering his hand, asked after her health in his blandest manner.
"I'm none the better for seeing you, or the like of you," was the
ungracious reply. "You have cheated my poor boy out of his good
farm; and I hope it may prove a bad bargain to you and yours."
"Mrs. R - -," returned the land speculator, nothing ruffled by her
unceremonious greeting, "I could not help your son giving way to
drink, and getting into my debt. If people will be so imprudent,
they cannot be so stupid as to imagine that others can suffer for
their folly."
"Suffer!" repeated the old woman, flashing her small, keen black
eyes upon him with a glance of withering scorn. "You suffer! I
wonder what the widows and orphans you have cheated would say to
that? My son was a poor, weak, silly fool, to be sucked in by the
like of you. For a debt of eight hundred dollars - the goods never
cost you four hundred - you take from us our good farm; and these,
I s'pose," pointing to my husband and me, "are the folk you sold
it to.
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