One very severe winter night, a neighbour borrowed of me a
blanket - it was one of my best - for the use of a stranger who was
passing the night at her house.
I could not well refuse; but at that
time, the world pressed me sore, and I could ill spare it. Two years
elapsed, and I saw no more of my blanket; at length I sent a note to
the lady, requesting it to be returned. I got a very short answer
back, and the blanket, alas! worn threadbare; the borrower stating
that she had sent the article, but really she did not know what to
do without it, as she wanted it to cover the children's bed. She
certainly forgot that I, too, had children, who wanted covering as
well as her own. But I have said so much of the ill results of
others' borrowing, that I will close this sketch by relating my own
experience in this way.
After removing to the bush, many misfortunes befel us, which
deprived us of our income, and reduced us to great poverty. In fact
we were strangers, and the knowing ones took us in; and for many
years we struggled with hardships which would have broken stouter
hearts than ours, had not our trust been placed in the Almighty,
who among all our troubles never wholly deserted us.
While my husband was absent on the frontier during the rebellion,
my youngest boy fell very sick, and required my utmost care, both
by night and day. To attend to him properly, a candle burning
during the night was necessary. The last candle was burnt out;
I had no money to buy another, and no fat from which I could make
one. I hated borrowing; but, for the dear child's sake, I overcame
my scruples, and succeeded in procuring a candle from a good
neighbour, but with strict injunctions (for it was HER LAST),
that I must return it if I did not require it during the night.
I went home quite grateful with my prize. It was a clear moonlight
night - the dear boy was better, so I told old Jenny, my Irish
servant, to go to bed, as I would lie down in my clothes by the
child, and if he were worse I would get up and light the candle. It
happened that a pane of glass was broken out of the window frame,
and I had supplied its place by fitting in a shingle; my friend
Emilia S - - had a large Tom-cat, who, when his mistress was absent,
often paid me a predatory or borrowing visit; and Tom had a practice
of pushing in this wooden pane, in order to pursue his lawless
depredations. I had forgotten all this, and never dreaming that Tom
would appropriate such light food, I left the candle lying in the
middle of the table, just under the window.
Between sleeping and waking, I heard the pane gently pushed in.
The thought instantly struck me that it was Tom, and that, for
lack of something better, he might steal my precious candle.
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