Natalie; Or, A Gem Among the Sea-Weeds

by Emma V. Hallett

"And it's jist about three hours afther sunrise, mem."

"I think you must be mistaken, Biddy; we cannot surely have been sleeping so long after our usual time for rising."

"Indade, and the sun bes jist coming in sight, and it must have been a powerful time travelling over, sure. I'm thinking they must be afther dhrying their takettles a long time, back there in ould Boston."

Time passed on, and our adventurers were becoming more and more accustomed to western life. Mr. Santon had found his lands to be in a very good state of cultivation, the former owner having been a Dutchman, who thoroughly understood what a good farm ought to be. Mrs. Santon had proved herself to be one of the best of housekeepers, and greatly did she pride herself on her abilities for filling the station of a farmer's wife. As they sat down of an evening, to their meal of bacon and Indian cakes, and contrasted their present circumstances with what had been their former situation in life, they could not repress a smile at the change; but they were happy, contented in their humble home, and the bread which had been earned by the sweat of the brow was sweeter, the social enjoyments dearer, than when in fashionable life they had been obliged to live with an eye to the customs of society; even Winnie had found some attractions in their little western home. The neighbors comprising those who lived for twenty miles around, the nearest being a mile distant, were pleasant, light-hearted people, and the civilities which were shown to the new comers were without end.

A small log-house, unlike the others of the settlement in its exterior, inasmuch as it was honored with an additional door, served as their place of worship; and it was with great joy that Winnie looked forward to Sunday morning, when, mounted upon her pony, she might ride off for six miles to the church, accompanied by her father and mother, each riding their respective horses. Arrived at the church, they dismounted at the great horseblock, leaving their hats and mantles thereon, as was the custom; and it was a pretty sight to see the ladies walking into church, their cheeks glowing with exercise, and the fresh, morning air. As Winnie entered, her long curls composing themselves after a frolic with the breeze, many a sly glance was aimed at her from the neighboring pews, in spite of the consciences of their owners reminding them that it was holy day. It was a source of great comfort to Mrs. Santon, that she as able to come so far to this place of worship. The little society numbered not over forty persons, yet those words spoken by our Saviour, "where two or three are gathered together in my name, there will I be in the midst of them," came with renewed freshness to her mind, each time she entered those doors, and she felt that she had never tasted the bliss of uninterrupted love for Christ, as now.

The shepherd of this little flock was a man fearing God, just, and upright; his services in the cause of Christ were offered voluntarily, without money, or price. Coming, as he had, in his old age, to spend the remainder of his days in the family of a beloved son, he had found with joy that his declining years might be profitably employed; that he might earn that reward which is promised to those who make a right use of the talents which God has given them; that he might merit those blessed words, "well done, good and faithful servant." His labors among this people had not proved ineffectual; many had been brought to see the great mercies of their Redeemer, souls had been converted to Christ, and as the song of praise went up from beneath that humble roof, the glad shouts were borne aloft, and angels joined in the chorus.

It was a beautiful afternoon, everybody was busy about the farm of Mr. Santon; Winnie was sitting at the door, intent upon her own thoughts, when she caught sight of their good minister approaching upon his horse, his silver locks flying in the wind. Biddy, learning they were to have a visit from the "Protestant praste," turned first pale, then red, and when the old gentleman dismounted at the door, she let fall the shoulder of bacon, which she was preparing for the supper, and darted behind the screen, in her haste hitting her foot against the lowest tin, in a pile of two dozen, which brought the rest down to inquire into the state of affairs.

The presence of the old gentleman served to impart a cheerfulness to all who gazed upon his happy countenance, and his kind tones, as he inquired for the welfare of the family, penetrated the screen, reaching the ear of Biddy, who sat wondering what the good father Teely would say, if he knew she had so far sinned as to remain under the same roof with a "wicked Protestant praste;" but as she heard him speaking to Pat, who had come in of an errand, with such a pleasant voice, she ventured a peep out, and the form of her thoughts just at that moment, might have been a little, a very little, savoring of heresy. Suffice it to say, when the old gentleman took his departure, there was a peculiar twinkle in Biddy's eye, and she had so far overcome her aversion to the "imposther" as to have had a few private words with him, which had by no means decreased her usual flow of good spirits. It was evident that Biddy "had on her high heels," for the rest of that evening. As Winnie strolled over the farm, enjoying the evening breeze, reflecting upon her good pastor's words, her attention was suddenly attracted toward the enclosure where the cows were being milked, by hearing the voice of Biddy, who, as she "stripped" the patient animal again, for the dozenth time, was very much engaged with Pat, whose round, smiling face, as he glanced at her from the opposite side of the creature, shone with delight; and as the white foam rose higher and higher in Biddy's pail, so did the warmth of her feelings get the better of her, and those tell-tale eyes of Winnie's danced with mischief, as she overheard the following conversation:

"Ah, Pathrick dear, does ye think there is the laste sin in it? And indade, it's mesilf that's thinking the blissid St. Pathrick would be afther misthaking him for a good Catholic!"

"And what did he say, honey dear? did he think he could be afther comforting the likes of us?"