Hills of the Shatemuc Part 17

"How did it come?"

"It came by Mr. Underhill."

"What's the matter? what does he say?"

"Not much -- you can see for yourself."

"And here's one from papa."

Mrs. Landholm took it, and Winthrop took Rufus's.

"Little River, March 18, 1809.

"What does papa mean to do? Something must be done, for I cannot stay here for ever; neither in truth do I wish it. If I am ever to make anything, it is time now. I am twenty-one, and in mind and body prepared, I think, for any line of enterprise to which fortune may call me. Or if nothing can be done with me, -- if what has been spent must be thrown away -- it is needless to throw away any more; it would be better for me to come home and settle down to the lot for which I seemed to be born. Nothing can be gained by waiting longer, but much lost.

"I am not desponding, but seriously this transition life I am leading at present is not very enlivening. I am neither one thing nor the other; I am in a chrysalis state, which is notoriously a dull one; and I have the further aggravation, which I suppose never occurs to the nymph _bona fide_, of a miserable uncertainty whether my folded-up wings are those of a purple b.u.t.terfly or of a poor drudge of a beetle. Besides, it is conceivable that the chrysalis may get weary of his case, and mine is not a silken one. I have been here long enough. My aunt Landholm is very kind; but I think she would like an increase of her household accommodations, and also that she would prefer working it by the rule of _subtraction_ rather than by the more usual and obvious way of _addition_. She is a good soul, but really I believe her larder contains nothing but pork, and her pantry nothing but -- pumpkins! She has actually contrived, by some abominable mystery of the kitchen, to keep some of them over through a period of frost and oblivion, and to-day they made their appearance in _due form_ on the table again; my horror at which appearance has I believe given me an indigestion, to which you may attribute whatever of gloominess there may be contained in this letter.

I certainly felt very _heavy_ when I sat down; but the sight of all your faces through fancy's sweet medium has greatly refreshed me.

"Nevertheless answer me speedily, for I am in earnest, although I am in jest.

"I intend to see you at all events soon.

"Love to the little ones and to dear ma and pa from

"Rufus."

"What does father say, mother?" was all Winthrop's commentary on this epistle. She gave him the other letter, and he yielded his brother's again to her stretched-out hand.

"Vanta.s.sel, March 22, 1809.

"My dear Orphah,

"I am really coming home! I never knew any months so long, it seems to me, as these three. The business will be finished I believe next week, and the Session will rise, and the first use I shall make of my recovered freedom will be -- can you doubt it? -- to hasten home to my family. My dear family -- they are closer to me all the time than you think, and for some weeks past it seems to me they have had half of every thought.

But I will be with you now, Providence willing, by the middle of the week, I hope, or as soon after as I can.

"The last fortnight has been spent in talking -- we have had a very stormy discussion of that point I spoke to you of in my last. The opposition of parties has run very high. It is gaining fearful ground in the country. I tremble for what may be the issue.

"I am quite well again. Mr. Haye has been very attentive and kind, and the Chancellor has shewn himself very friendly.

"I expect Will will be at home as soon as I am myself. I wrote to him that he had better do so. I cannot afford to keep him any longer there, and there seems nothing better for him to do at present but to come home. I hope for better days.

"Love to all till I see you, my dear wife and children,

"W. Landholm.

"My son Winthrop, this word is for you. I am coming home soon I hope to relieve you of so much care. Meanwhile a word. I want Sam to go into the north hill-field with the plough, as soon as he can; I think the frost must be out of the ground with you. I intend to put wheat there and in the big border meadow. The bend meadow is in no hurry; it will take corn, I guess. You had better feed out the turnips to the old black cow and the two heifers."

The letters were read at last, and folded up, by the respective hands that held them.

"Well, Will's coming home," the mother said, with half a sigh.

Winthrop did not answer; he made over to her hand the letter he held in his own.

"The north hill-field is pretty much all ploughed already," he remarked.

"You're a good farmer, Governor," said his mother. "But I am afraid that praise doesn't please you."

"Yes it does, mamma," he answered smiling a little.

"But it don't satisfy you?"

"No more than it does you, mamma. It helps my hope of being a good something else some day."

"I don't care much what you are, Governor, if it is only something _good_," she said.

He met her grave, wistful eyes, but this time he did not smile; and a stranger might have thought he was exceedingly unimpressible. Both were silent a bit.

"Well, it will be good to see them," Mrs. Landholm said, again with that half sighing breath; "and now we must make haste and get all ready to welcome them home."

CHAPTER VII.

Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him.

TENNYSON.

What a coming home that was. Who could have guessed that any ungrateful cause had had anything to do with it. What kisses, what smiles, what family rejoicings at the table, what endless talks round the fire. What delight in the returned Member of a.s.sembly; what admiration of the future Collegian. For n.o.body had given that up; wishes were bidden to wait awhile, that was all; and as the waiting had procured them this dear home- gathering, who could quarrel with it. Nay, there was no eye shaded, there was no voice untuned for the glad music of that time.

"Well it's worth going away, to come back again, ain't it?"

said Mr. Landholm, when they were gathered round the fire that first evening.

"No," said his wife.

"Well, I didn't think so last winter," said the father of the family, drawing his broad hand over his eyes.

"I can tell you, _I_ have thought so this great while," said Rufus. "It's -- it's seven or eight months now since I have been home."

"Papa," said little Winifred, squeezing in and climbing up on her father's knees, -- "we have wanted you every night."

"You did!" said her father, bending his face conveniently down to her golden curls; -- "and what did you do by day?"

"O we wanted you; but then you know we were so busy in the day-time."