Fashion and Famine

t about her

et, or

game, or fr

ven it

er in her

to he

and bitt

ed joy a

side the Atlantic. Hills, some of them bold and black with naked rocks, others clothed down the side with soft waving ridges of cultivation, loomed over fields of Indian corn, with buckwheat, all in a sea of snowy blossoms. Patches of earth newly ploughed for the next year's crop, blended their brown tints with mountain slopes, rich with rye and oats. Wild, deep lakes, sleeping in their green basins among the hills; mountain streams plunging downward, and threading the dark rocks together as

ly across the river, but all at once it parted as if some earthquake had torn it, centuries before, and there lay a little valley opening upon the stream, walled on one hand by an abrupt precipice, and on the other by a steep and broken hill, its crevices choked up by wild grape-vines, mosses, and ever

ide. This was threaded by a turnpike, connected with the road we have mentioned by a ferry-boat,

urse toward the ferry. The scow had been hauled up beneath a clump of willows, and two old men sat in the shade, waiting for customers. They saw

ally concealed by a green veil. The old men had never travelled far beyond the river which afforded them support, but t

strength, that struck the old men as unnatural and foreign. The chaise was soon recognized as belonging to the landlord in a neighboring village; but the

air of one who understood the place and its customs. "

more than once; he ain't shiey, that horse ain't," answered

old him just now and see

pushed their lumbering craft into the river, casting now and then a furtive glance at the lady, who had dra

he?" whispered

r nodded

ontinued the man, drawing back, as if

" was the

agerly bent on the little village to which they see

valley now-that nearest the w

so well seen when the leaves are out, yet if you look

of an old gray house. The ridge and heavy stone chimney alone were visible; but the old building seemed to fascinate her gaze-she bent forward, her hands were clasped, her f

mistaking the source of her emotion. "I've been on this ferry sixteen years, and n

away as her gaze became more earnest. She dwelt upon his withered old

mile returned, but with an additiona

enough; but wait till you get old

sinking back into her seat,

verheard the whispers passing between the ferrymen, and seemed annoyed by their import. He was evidently ill at ease. When the scow ran wit

ed down by a cup of hard cider, came indolently from the fro

pointing toward a wooden trough built

ll stay all night,

who brought private fare for man and horse with them; the same bag usually containing oats or corn in one end, and a box of ba

good man, excited by the

er for the lady in her own

-fallen look, "supper! We haven't a morsel

the brook, I suppose,"

ow that? Been in the

at, who ever heard of the state," was the courteous reply.

-I'll just turn out the ho

upon the banks of a mountain stream, that marked the precipitous boundaries of the valley. A wild, sparkling brook it was-broken up by rocks sinking into deep, placid pools, and leaping away t

nd send me off yonder after box-wood blossoms and wild honeysuckles, while she dipped her feet in and out of the water, just to hurry me back again. Those white little feet-how I did

oss, he fell into one of those profound reveries, that twine every fibre of the heart around the past. The fishing rod lay at his feet, unheeded. Just beneath his eye, was a deep pool, transluc

his fine prospect of sport; but now those delicate creatures, balancing themselves in the wav

g his hook as he walked along. He cast two fine trout, strung upon a forked

y hand over the surface of the water, now dropping it softly down, now aiding it to float lazily on the surf

to the fly. Jacob almost uttered a groan, as he saw the beautiful creature lifted from the wave, his fins quivering, his jewelled sides glistening with water drops, and every wild ev

twig under his gills. "You're sartin of a supper, sir, and a good one too-they'll be hissing on the g

he rod, he plunged through a clump of elders, and disappeared on the opposite bank. But

t. You could see it in the quiver of his rude feat

girl stood before him-a fair, sweet child, with chestnut curls and large earnest eyes, who had waited in a corner of the fence, while he gathered armsful of these field-blossoms, for her to toss about in the sunshine. On the other hand lay an apple orchard, with half a dozen tall pear trees, ranging along the fence. He remembered climbing those trees a h

became more and more fragrant. Still Jacob dwelt with the past. The lady at the inn was forgotten. He was ro

to tremble as if caugh

dam! what bro

could not breathe. The air of this valley penetrates my very h

lirium of his memories; his strong brain ached with the sudden transition her presen

madam, not up yonder

oking me-I could not live another hou

I beg of you,

tly toward her humble frie

u inquired? have y

like to ask que

now absolut

hing

ld house. It should be v

e orchard has grown

e lady, with a sad wave of the hand. "I thought to get a view of the house from this spot, just as one po

ne, and tears absolutely came

white flowers close by the stone-it scarcely seems to have been out of blossom sinc

them with a stern curve of the lip, which on his irregular mouth was strangely impressive. The lady ra

ed flowers,"

owers! Oh, Jacob, h

ith his finger. "The last time I came this way, a snake was creeping round among those

rnestly. Then the broad, white lids drooped over he

arge hands, with their loosely knit joints, became nervously restless, and he cast furtive glances at the face and downcast features of the lady. He could not speak, but waited for her to address

'am, and you are not used

lady, "when a little night de

u are tired

en yonder-perhaps not then, for Heaven only knows what tidings may

hook hi

nd my way to the house-perhaps I may sleep there to-night, Jacob, who knows?" She paused

ook with which the poor lady searched his features

errible pain, Jacob. Leave me now; if any thing

ess was fast undermining his own manhood. He did not return to the tavern, however, but clambering over a fence, leaped into the clover field, and wading, kne

eft. "I will see them first," he muttered; "they might not know her, or may have heard. It ain't likely, tho

his hand upon an upper rail of the fence. His heart misgave him. Every object was so painfully familiar, that he shrunk from approaching nearer. There was the garden sloping away from the old dwelling, with a line of cherry trees running along the fence, and shading triple rows of currant and gooseberry bushes, now bent to the ground with a load of crimson and purple fruit. There was the well sweep, with its long, rou

box at one end, and that was all the sign of life that appeared to the strained eyes of Jacob Strong. He stood, minute after minute, waiting for a sight

through the grass, and sweeping the tall, golden lilies aside, where they fell over the narrow way, he strode eagerly forward, and soon found himself in a garden. It was full of coa

as they turned their great dials to the West, seemed to him redolent and golden with the light of other days. They filled his he

for years. The grindstone, with a trough half full of water, stood in its old place by the back porch. Surely, while suc

where two men, a woman, and a chubby little girl, sat at supper. One of the men, a stout, sun-burned fellow, arose, and placing a splint-bottomed chair for

own and looked ruefully around. A single tallow candle standing on the table shed its faint light through the room, but failed to reveal the troubled look that fell upon

r," he said, while his wife aros

ob, with an effort; for the wor

ing from the cupboard with a plate and knife in her hands

not hungry; but if you've got a cup

owl from the table, and, reaching

ind the well-pole rather h

ght from that moss-covered bucket would drive away the chill t

p again, full and dripping, he balanced it on the curb and drank. After this, he lingered a brief time by the well, filled with

once more offered to his acceptance, and addressing the farmer. "T

and the brook," answered the man, pleased

, too; such timothy I have

e farmer, taking his chubby little daughter on one knee, and smoothing her thick hair with both his hard palm

the question, but the farmer was busy caressing his child, and only ob

parts, for everybody knows how long I've been upo

woman, in a pleasant, low tone; "ji

could beat a hull class of us boys at cyphering wh

a good-humored smile divided cordi

so long; we've talked of building every year, but somehow the right time hasn

r the old homestead down! don't do it-don't do it, friend. There are people in the world wh

" said the farmer, looking at his wife with shrewd surprise;

man at that time, older than you are now, li

as that t

it-a tall man,

old fellow; why we b

His wife seemed so fond of the place, and-and his

lk about her wild, bright ways, and her good looks, to this day;

er? Did she settle an

ton or York, come up the river one summer to hunt and fish in t

he never c

for Wilcox wouldn't let any human being breathe a whisper agin his daughter. Nobody ever knew exactly what happened, but the young man went away and left his child with the old

ng on the hearth, there, looking into the fire. Wal, you know the best of us will talk when anything happens that is not quite understood

away?" asked Jacob, in a husky voice. "There was a youn

d. He went away just arter the gal was married, and nobody ever knew what became of him. People thought th

ay that Mr. Wilcox an

were uttered, for there was something in the tone that took his honest heart by

d, but when a tough, cheerful man, like

unable to control the agony of his impatience a moment longer; but the astonished look

t the old gentleman. I had no idea he would ever leave the farm, and was surprised to find strangers

red the farmer. "I bought the farm, paid cash down

o?" cried Jacob, brea

and when the teamster came back, he said they were

she bound?-what

ld tell nothing about it; and from that day to this, no

supported hims

one, no one knows w

se can tell you," answere

eamster, w

ea

terrible to another than they had been to him, and yet that seemed scarcely possib

stress, with tidings that he knew would rend her heart. He left the homestead, tortured by all that he had heard, and plunged into a hollow which opened to the trout stream. In this hollow stood a tall elm tree, with great, sweeping branches, that drooped almost to the groun

ing against the rugged trunk of the elm, sat Ada Leicester. Her face shone white in the

ull light. The hand with which she wildly seized his was damp and col

in, and have been waiting all this time. Tell me, Jac

family are there!" answered Jacob Strong

nd terror-stricken at what he had done, Jacob saw his mistress lying at his feet, her deathly face, her l

huge arms, and folded her close to his bosom. It was not a light burden to carry; but he neither wavered nor paused, but strode down the hollow,

Then, Ada, you would lift up your little arms, and fold them ov

y toward hers. He g

e from him, as he looked down upon the pale

limbs, and beginning to move to and fro, as he perceive

She lay in his arms like one from whom life had just departed-her pale limbs relax

meadow. He has carried you down to the brook a thousand times, when you knew all about it and laug

he girded her form with those strong arms,

sink with each faint struggle that she made; "you cannot stand-the gras

Strong?" she said,

s bound boy; we are in the old home lot again. I-I-it is a

Ada Wilcox; all that bore that name are gone; the homestead is full of strangers; Wil

arms so abruptly, that Ada

t name," he said wit

t she wavered, and her pale face was lif

lp me to stand up, that I may look on the old homestead o

pon the roof as it did that night; the old pear tre

oonlight. Ada felt his arm shak

with the col

ill go forward and break a path through t

uncouth shadow before her, in the moonlight. She followed him

ockets in the tall chestnut posts, dropping them down on each other with a noise that rang strangely through the stillness. Ada

ly, "I am all alone now, in the w

erved that question," said

follow; but he closed the door and rushed away, leaping the

man to foreign parts for, but to stand ready when her time of trouble came? What did I give up my freeborn American birthright for, and put that gold lace, and darn'd etarnal cockade over my hat, like an English white nigger, only because I couldn't stand by her in any other way? What is it that makes me humble as a rabbit, sometimes, and then, again, snarling around like a dog? She don'

bound boy again, and she a little girl, and the old folks up yonder. I would be a nigger-a hound-anything, if she could only stand here, as she did then-as innocent and sweet a critter as ever d

ost beneath its pear trees-now casting his uncouth shadow across the barn-yard, where half a dozen slumbering cows lifted their heads and gazed earnestly after him, as if waiting for the in

have conversed a little with its inmates, but Jacob only answered them in monosyllables, and the