Lewie | Page 6

the history of the young
widow, whom we have introduced to the reader.

II.
Brook Farm.
"By the gathering round the winter hearth, When twilight called unto
household mirth; By the fairy tale, or the legend old, In that ring of
happy faces told; By the quiet hours when hearts unite In the parting
prayer and the kind "good night", By the smiling eye and the loving
tone, Over thy life has the spell been thrown."--SPELLS OF HOME.
When Mammy left little Agnes in the north room, and descended to the

kitchen, she found Bridget, who had already been made acquainted
with, passing events by Anne, the chambermaid, in a state of great
wrath and indignation. The china must have been strong that stood so
bravely the rough treatment it received that morning, and the tins kept
up a continued shriek of anguish as they were dashed against each other
in the sink; while every time Bridget set down her foot as she stamped
about the kitchen, it was done with an emphasis that made itself felt
throughout the whole house.
"And so ye've been locking up that swate crathur again, have ye, Mrs.
McCrae?" were the words with which, in no gentle tones, she assailed
Mammy as she entered the kitchen.
"I did as I was bid, Bridget," said Mammy, with a sigh.
"And indade it wouldn't be me would do as I was bid, if I was bid to do
the like o' that. I'd rather coot off my right hand than use it to turn the
kay on the darlint."
"I always mind my mistress, Bridget," said Mammy, "though it's often
I'm forced to pray for patience wi' her."
"And indade I don't ask for patience wid her at all, anny how," stormed
Bridget. "To think of sending the swate child, that never has anny but a
kind an' a pleasant word for iverybody, away to the cold room, just
because the brat she doats on chooses to yowl in the fashion he did the
morn. I don't know, indade, what's the matther with the woman! I think
it's a quare thing, and an on nattheral thing, anny how!"
"She's much to be blamed, no doubt, Bridget, and yet there's excuses to
be made for my mistress," said Mammy, mildly. "She's young yet in
years, no but twenty-two; and she's nothing but a child in her ways and
her knowledge. She never knew the blessing of a mither's care, puir
thing; and up to the very day she was married, her life was passed at
one o' them fashionable boarding-schules, where they teach them to
play on instruments, and to sing, and to dance, and to paint, and to talk
some unchristian tongue that's never going to do them no good for this
life nor the next. But they never give them so much as a hint that
they've got a soul to be saved, and they take no pains to fit them to be
wives and mothers. My mistress was but fifteen years old when she ran
away with Master Harry. Poor dear Master Harry! It was the only fulish
thing I ever knew him to do, was running away wi' that chit of a
schule-girl. He met her, I think, at a ball that was given at this schule,

and Master Harry was over head and ears in love in a minute; and after
two or three meetings and a few notes passing, they determined on this
runnin' away folly. I think it was them novels she was always readin'
put it in her head. It wouldn't do, you know, to be like other folks, but
they must have a little kind of a romance about it. Puir, fulish, young
things!"
"You see, I was living with old Mr. Elwyn then," continued Mammy;
"indeed, I've been in the family ever since I came over from Scotland,
quite a lassie, thirty-one years ago come next April. I left them, besure,
when I married; but as my gude-man lived but two years, I was soon
back in my old home again. Old Mr. Elwyn, Master Harry's father, had
lost his property before this time; but his brother, 'Uncle Ben,' as they
called him, was very rich. They all lived together--'Uncle Ben,' old Mr.
Elwyn, Master Harry and Miss Ellen, that's Mrs. Wharton. Miss Ellen
was a few years older than Master Harry, and she was the housekeeper.
But Master Harry, bless you! was only twenty years old, when he
walked in one morning, and told his father he was married. I never shall
forget the time there was then! The old gentleman was complaining,
and had had a bad night, though Master Harry did not know that. Well,
the sudden shock threw him into an apoplectic fit; and