"Och, my dear heart, you will be lost in the woods!" said old Jenny.
"It is nine long miles to the first clearing, and that through a
lonely, blazed path. After you are through the beaver-meadow, there
is not a single hut for you to rest or warm yourselves. It is too
much for the both of yees; you will be frozen to death on the road."
"No fear," said my benevolent friend; "God will take care of us,
Jenny. It is on His errand we go; to carry a message of hope to one
about to perish."
"The Lord bless you for a darlint," cried the old woman, devoutly
kissing the velvet cheek of the little fellow sleeping upon her lap.
"May your own purty child never know the want and sorrow that is
around her."
Emilia and I talked over the Dummer scheme until we fell asleep.
Many were the plans we proposed for the immediate relief of the
unfortunate family. Early the next morning, my brother-in-law, Mr.
T - -, called upon my friend. The subject next to our heart was
immediately introduced, and he was called into the general council.
His feelings, like our own, were deeply interested; and he proposed
that we should each provide something from our own small stores to
satisfy the pressing wants of the distressed family; while he
promised to bring his cutter the next morning, and take us through
the beaver-meadow, and to the edge of the great swamp, which would
shorten four miles, at least, of our long and hazardous journey.
We joyfully acceded to his proposal, and set cheerfully to work to
provide for the morrow. Jenny baked a batch of her very best bread,
and boiled a large piece of beef; and Mr. T - - brought with him, the
next day, a fine cooked ham, in a sack, into the bottom of which he
stowed the beef and loaves, besides some sugar and tea, which his
own kind wife, the author of "the Backwoods of Canada," had sent.
I had some misgivings as to the manner in which these good things
could be introduced to the poor lady, who, I had heard, was reserved
and proud.
"Oh, Jenny," I said, "how shall I be able to ask her to accept
provisions from strangers? I am afraid of wounding her feelings."
"Oh, darlint, never fear that! She is proud, I know; but 'tis not
a stiff pride, but jist enough to consale her disthress from her
ignorant English neighbours, who think so manely of poor folk like
her who were once rich. She will be very thankful to you for your
kindness, for she has not experienced much of it from the Dummer
people in her throuble, though she may have no words to tell you so.
Say that old Jenny sent the bread to dear wee Ellie, 'cause she knew
she would like a loaf of Jenny's bakin'."
"But the meat."
"Och, the mate, is it? May be, you'll think of some excuse for the
mate when you get there."
"I hope so; but I'm a sad coward with strangers, and I have lived so
long out of the world that I am at a great loss what to do. I will
try and put a good face on the matter. Your name, Jenny, will be no
small help to me."
All was now ready. Kissing our little bairns, who crowded around us
with eager and inquiring looks, and charging Jenny for the hundredth
time to take especial care of them during our absence, we mounted
the cutter, and set off, under the care and protection of Mr. T - -,
who determined to accompany us on the journey.
It was a black, cold day; no sun visible in the grey, dark sky; a
keen wind, and hard frost. We crouched close to each other.
"Good heavens, how cold it is!" whispered Emilia. "What a day for
such a journey!"
She had scarcely ceased speaking, when the cutter went upon a stump
which lay concealed under the drifted snow; and we, together with
the ruins of our conveyance, were scattered around.
"A bad beginning," said my brother-in-law, with a rueful aspect, as
he surveyed the wreck of the cutter from which we had promised
ourselves so much benefit. "There is no help for it but to return
home."
"Oh, no," said Mrs. S - -; "bad beginnings make good endings, you
know. Let us go on; it will be far better walking than riding such a
dreadful day. My feet are half-frozen already with sitting still."
"But, my dear madam," expostulated Mr. T - -, "consider the distance,
the road, the dark, dull day, and our imperfect knowledge of the
path. I will get the cutter mended to-morrow; and the day after we
may be able to proceed."
"Delays are dangerous," said the pertinacious Emilia, who,
woman-like, was determined to have her own way. "Now, or never.
While we wait for the broken cutter, the broken-hearted Mrs. N - -
may starve. We can stop at Colonel C - -'s and warm ourselves, and
you can leave the cutter at his house until our return."
"It was upon your account that I proposed the delay," said the good
Mr. T - -, taking the sack, which was no inconsiderable weight, upon
his shoulder, and driving his horse before him into neighbour W - -'s
stable. "Where you go, I am ready to follow."
When we arrived, Colonel C - -'s family were at breakfast, of which
they made us partake; and after vainly endeavouring to dissuade us
from what appeared to them our Quixotic expedition, Mrs. C - - added
a dozen fine white fish to the contents of the sack, and sent her
youngest son to help Mr. T - - along with his burthen, and to bear
us company on our desolate road.
