Mary Erskine
ings and clearings. He built barns and sheds about his house, and gradually accumulated quite a stock of animals. With the money that he obtained by selling the grain and the
e roasted for breakfast, were always prepared the night before, and placed in an earthen pan, before the fire. Mary Erskine, in fact, was always very earnest to make every possible preparation over night, for the work of the morning. This arose partly from an instinctive impulse which made her always wish, as she expressed it, "to do every duty as soon as it came in sight," and partly from the pleasure which she derived from a morning visit to the animals in the barn. She
do his business. This office was in a wing of his house, which was a large and handsome house in the center of the village. Mr. Keep had a son who was a physician, and he used often to ask his son's opinion and advice about his affairs. One day when Mr. Keep was sitting in his office, Mr. Gordon came in and told him that he had some plans for enlarging his bus
ell, he believed, but then his expenses were quite heavy, and it was not quite certain how it would turn with him. Mr. Keep then said that he had two or three hundred dollars on hand which he must dispose of in
he is getting quite a stock of cattle, and very comfortable buildings. I think it very likely that he can buy m
e it to him,"
hat he was very much obliged to him for the offer of the money, and that he would consider whether it would be best for him to
o get such an off
e the money?"
eplied Albert. "I
ad to get the offer?
ad such a man as Mr. Keep to offer to lend me money, of his own accord. It is a consider
Mary Erskine
owing to you,
said Mary
you for. It is so easy to make you happy. There is many a wife, in your situation, who could not have been happy unless their husb
ugh it gratified her very much
that you have got good credit. What should
ld do," said Albert, "woul
ery much. I don't want any other-certainly no
his fall, so as to have greater crops next spring, and then sell the stock when it has grown and in
ave much over
epend upon the weather, and the markets, and other things which we can n
rskine, "then I wou
not turn out well. If I were to be sick, so that I could not attend to so much business, or if I should J
you do then?" a
t off the payment of the note, or I might borrow the money of somebody else to pay him, or I might sell some of my
ary Erskine. "I don't like anxiety. I can
ut it," continued Mary Erskine, afte
willing that he should borrow the money to buy more stock, as she liked the idea of having more oxen, sheep, and cows. But she seemed decidedly opposed
to borrow the money, and so M
he did not wish to build larger barns where he then lived, for in the course of his clearings he had found a much better place for a house than the one which they had at first selected. Then his house was beginning to be too small for his family, for Mary Erski
ooms, instead of having them, as heretofore, all in one. Then the barns and barn-yards, and the pens and sheds for the sheep and cattle, were all going to be much more convenient than they had been; so that Albert could take care of a greater amount of stock than before, with the same labor. The new house, too, was going to be built in
engaged in this occupation, Albert came home from the field much earlier than usual. Mary Erskine was very glad to see him, as she wished him to nail up the box in which she had been packing her cu
ary Erskine's packing, and then went
eady," said he, "and I will
-for she had just learned to walk-an
Bella," s
glad to have his daughter come to him when he got home from his work. She looked up to s
eft her work a
well, Alber
as the reason why I thought I would come home. But it is b
esides, it is no matter about it t
ng first, and I will come and nail it
into the room, Mary Erskine leading and supporting him. She conducted him to the bed and opened the curtains so as to let him lie down. She helped him to undress himself, and then left him, a few minutes while she began to get some tea. She moved the box, which she had
r as possible. When the tea and toast were ready she put them upon a small waiter, and then moving her little work-table up to
d concern. She then turned away, saying to herself, "If Albert is going to be sick and to die, what will become of me?" She kneeled down upon the floor at the foot of the bed, cro
lbert in case he should wake or move, and having adjusted them as she wished, she went to the stoop door and took her seat there, with her knitting-work in her hand, in a position from which, on one side she could look into the room and observe every thing which took place
about nine o'clock He prescribed for Albert, and prepared, and left, some medicine for him. He said he hop
ne," said he to Mary Erskine. "Yo
ong very well, alone, to-night,-and I
s. We will therefore shorten the tale of Mary Erskine's anxiety and distress, by saying, a
cattle and of the farm. They made a bed for Thomas in the scaffold in the barn. They also made up a bed in the stoop, in a corner which they divided off by means of a curtain. This bed was for the watchers, and for Mary Erskine herself, when she or they wished to lie down. Mary Erskine went to it, herself very seldom. She remain
m, and said to her, in a faint and feeble voice, that he wished Mrs. Bell to write something for him. Mary Erskine immediately brought her work-table up to the bedside, opened the drawer, took out one of the
now," said
l my property,
se words upon the p
have writ
ine my wife,"
t," said Mrs. Bell,
to me to sign
'witness' under the writing on that side. His hand trembled, but he wrote the word pretty plain. As he finished writing it he told Mrs. Bell that she must sign her name as witness. When this had been done he gave bac
day she began to help Mrs. Bell in making preparations for the funeral. She sent for Bella to come home immediately. Mrs. Bell urged her very earnestly
. "It will be better fo
nk you shall do?
even begin to think now. I am going to wait
me you are going to
Erskine, "I thi
d Mrs. Bell. "I will come back with you
to be alone now, and I may as well begin at on
more. She remained at the house while the funeral procession was gone to the grave; and some friends came back with M
oaned aloud, in the excess of her anguish. She remained sitting thus for half an hour. The twilight gradually faded away. The flickering flame, which rose from the fire in the fire-place, seemed to grow brighter as the daylight disappeared, and to illuminate the whole interior of the room, so as to give it a genial and chee
Albert's place, and then, going back to the fire, she gave the baby the food which it required, and rocked it to sleep. Her heart was resigned, and tranquil, and happy, She put the baby, at length, into the cradle, and then, kneeling down, she thanked God with her whole soul for having heard her prayer, and granted her the spirit of resignation and peace.
ade, and raised herself up suddenly. The fire had nearly gone out. There was no flame, and the room was lighted only by the glow of the burning embers. Mary Erskine was frightened to find herself alone. The tranquillity and happiness which she had experienced a few hours ago were all gone, and her mind was filled, instead, with an undefined and mysterious distress and terror. She went to the fire-place and built a new fire, for the sake of its company. She took the baby from t