The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish | Page 8

wield the blade, in order to instruct the latter in its uses, and many a
long winter evening was passed in thus indirectly teaching an art, that
was so much at variance with the mandates of his divine master. The
chastened soldier, however, never forgot to close his instruction with a
petition extraordinary, in the customary prayer, that no descendant of
his should ever take life from a being unprepared to die, except in
justifiable defence of his faith, his person, or his lawful rights. It must
be admitted, that a liberal construction of the reserved privileges would
leave sufficient matter, to exercise the subtlety of one subject to any
extraordinary propensity to arms.
Few opportunities were however offered, in their remote situation and
with their peaceful habits, for the practice of a theory that had been
taught in so many lessons. Indian alarms, as they were termed, were not
unfrequent, but, as yet, they had never produced more than terror in the
bosoms of the gentle Ruth and her young offspring. It is true, they had
heard of travellers massacred, and of families separated by captivity,
but, either by a happy fortune, or by more than ordinary prudence in the
settlers who were established along that immediate frontier, the knife
and the tomahawk had as yet been sparingly used in the colony of
Connecticut. A threatening and dangerous struggle with the Dutch, in

the adjoining province of New-Netherlands, had been averted by the
foresight and moderation of the rulers of the new plantations; and
though a warlike and powerful native chief kept the neighboring
colonies of Massachusetts and Rhode-Island in a state of constant
watchfulness, from the cause just mentioned the apprehension of
danger was greatly weakened in the breasts of those so remote as the
individuals who composed the family of our emigrant.
In this quiet manner did years glide by, the surrounding wilderness
slowly retreating from the habitations of the Heathcotes, until they
found themselves in the possession of as many of the comforts of life
as their utter seclusion from the rest of the world could give them
reason to expect.
With this preliminary explanation, we shall refer the reader to the
succeeding narrative for a more minute, and we hope for a more
interesting account of the incidents of a legend that may prove too
homely for the tastes of those, whose imaginations seek the excitement
of scenes more stirring, or of a condition of life less natural.

Chapter II.

Sir, I do know you; And dare, upon the warrant of my art, Commend a
dear thing to you.
King Lear.
At the precise time when the action of our piece commences, a fine and
fruitful season was drawing to a close. The harvests of the hay and of
the smaller corns had long been over, and the younger Heathcote with
his laborers had passed a day in depriving the luxuriant maize of its
tops, in order to secure the nutritious blades for fodder, and to admit the
sun and air to harden a grain, that is almost considered the staple
production of the region he inhabited. The veteran Mark had ridden
among the workmen, during their light toil, as well to enjoy a sight
which promised abundance to his flocks and herds, as to throw in, on
occasion, some wholesome spiritual precept, in which doctrinal
subtlety was far more prominent than the rules of practice. The
hirelings of his son, for he had long since yielded the management of

the estate to Content, were, without an exception, young men born in
the country and long use and much training had accustomed them to a
blending of religious exercises with most of the employments of life.
They listened, therefore, with respect, nor did an impious smile, or an
impatient glance, escape the lightest-minded of their number, during
his exhortations, though the homilies of the old man were neither very
brief, nor particularly original. But devotion to the one great cause of
their existence, austere habits, and unrelaxed industry in keeping alive a
flame of zeal that had been kindled in the other hemisphere, to burn
longest and brightest in this, had interwoven the practice mentioned
with most of the opinions and pleasures of these metaphysical, though
simple minded people. The toil went on none the less cheerily for the
extraordinary accompaniment, and Content himself, by a certain
glimmering of superstition, which appears to be the concomitant of
excessive religious zeal, was fain to think that the sun shone more
brightly on their labors, and that the earth gave forth more of its fruits,
while these holy sentiments were flowing from the lips of a father
whom he piously loved and deeply reverenced.
But when the sun, usually at that season, in the climate of Connecticut,