The ground on the side of the river next to the minister’s cabin had been looked over repeatedly, and no one seemed to think it possible that the child had crossed the river, and the conclusion came to be general that he had either been carried off by a wild beast, or fallen into the water, and been drowned; and preparations were made 156 for dragging the stream for the body, when one of the party saw a bit of cloth, which Tom recognized as torn from Bub’s dress, flaunting from a twig on the tree-bridge.
“He must be on the other side!” cried Tom; and, with new hope, the party rushed to explore the field, shouting his name.
“Here I be!” answered a childish voice; and they found him seated on the ground, composedly picking the kernels from an ear of corn, the channels which the tears had ploughed on his unwashed cheeks being the only evidence of the sorrows through which he had passed; and he said, with the air of one whose feelings had been wounded by undeserved neglect,–
“I hasn’t had any dinner.”
Some theologians tell us that the sinful should never be addressed through their fears; that love can only reform the erring. Perhaps Mrs. Smith was unlike the rest of the race; but the terrors of that night wrought a change in her; and Mr. Payson was surprised one day by Mr. Smith’s calling at his cabin with a fine quarter of beef, saying, as he lugged it in,–
“I’ve been killing an ox, elder; and wife thought, if you wouldn’t be offended, that I’d better bring you down a piece;” adding, as he rose to go, “Here’s that due-bill that you gave me for the improvements on the ten acres. 157 Wife says you’ve paid enough on it; so I’ve receipted it, and will call it square, if you will. And, by the way, when you are out of butter, just send over to our house; we can spare you a few pounds, now and then, just as well as not.”