When at its porch ... quiet’s especial temple.—W. G. Simms.
“I have the vaguest idea of the outside of our home—a pretty brown cottage in evergreen woods—that was all I could make out as we approached it in the twilight last evening; and that is all I can make out now, while peering through that crimson curtained window,” said Drusilla, as she sat at breakfast with her husband the next morning.
“‘A pretty brown cottage, in evergreen woods.’ Well, that is all you would make out if you were to inspect the premises most carefully every day for a month. It is a new place, my little love. The house and stable only are finished and walled in. The grounds are not laid out or even cleared, as you may see by the thicket crowding up to the very windows,” replied Alexander.
“But, I think I like it even better just so. There is something very fascinating to me in the deep, wild wood, where the trees may grow as they please, without touch of ax or pruning knife, and where birds may sing and rabbits run without fear of trap or fowling-piece,” said Drusilla.
“Then if that be so, not a tree shall be felled, though we should have to send to the city market for all our fruit and vegetables,” laughed Alexander.
“Oh no, no, no; don’t ‘Woodman, Spare That Tree’ on my account. The woods are very charming, but so is a garden with beds of growing vegetables and parterres of blooming flowers; and so are vineyards and orchards, and poultry-yards and cow-pens, none of which can be had without the sacrifice of the woods. And you know what a good little farmer your dear mother——” Here the tears rushed to the bride’s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away and smiled, saying: “No, I will not weep the day after our wedding. I will remember that she is in Heaven, and—happy as we may be, she is happier still.”
“But what were you about to say, love, when you broke off?” gravely and gently inquired Alexander.
“Oh, I was going to remind you what a skillful little farmer your dear mother had made of me, and to tell you how well I can manage a little place like this, with the help of the two servants.”
“Yes, darling; but you will not need to do so. What? You worry with the cultivation of cabbage and onions, and the rearing of fowls and turkeys, and the feeding of cows and pigs? It is ridiculous, the idea!”
“But your dear mother saw to all such things with her own eyes, and often helped among them with her own hands.”