Perceiving that the old woman was not a little elated with her
bargain, Mr. - - urged upon her the propriety of barring the dower.
At first, she was outrageous, and very abusive, and rejected all his
proposals with contempt; vowing that she would meet him in a certain
place below, before she would sign away her right to the property.
"Listen to reason, Mrs. R - -," said the land speculator. "If you
will sign the papers before the proper authorities, the next time
your son drives you to C - -, I will give you a silk gown."
"Pshaw! Buy a shroud for yourself; you will need it before I want a
silk gown," was the ungracious reply.
"Consider woman; a black silk of the best quality."
"To mourn in for my sins, or for the loss of the farm?"
"Twelve yards," continued Mr. - -, without noticing her rejoinder,
"at a dollar a yard. Think what a nice church-going gown it will
make."
"To the devil with you! I never go to church."
"I thought as much," said Mr. - -, winking to us. "Well, my dear
madam, what will satisfy you?"
"I'll do it for twenty dollars," returned the old woman, rocking
herself to and fro in her chair; her eyes twinkling, and her hands
moving convulsively, as if she already grasped the money so dear to
her soul.
"Agreed," said the land speculator. "When will you be in town?"
"On Tuesday, if I be alive. But, remember, I'll not sign till I have
my hand on the money."
"Never fear," said Mr. - -, as we quitted the house; then, turning
to me, he added, with a peculiar smile," That's a devilish smart
woman. She would have made a clever lawyer."
Monday came, and with it all the bustle of moving, and, as is
generally the case on such occasions, it turned out a very wet day.
I left Old Satan's hut without regret, glad, at any rate, to be in a
place of my own, however humble. Our new habitation, though small,
had a decided advantage over the one we were leaving. It stood on
a gentle slope; and a narrow but lovely stream, full of pretty
speckled trout, ran murmuring under the little window; the house,
also, was surrounded by fine fruit trees.
I know not how it was, but the sound of that tinkling brook, for
ever rolling by, filled my heart with a strange melancholy, which
for many nights deprived me of rest. I loved it, too. The voice of
waters, in the stillness of night, always had an extraordinary
effect upon my mind. Their ceaseless motion and perpetual sound
convey to me the idea of life - eternal life; and looking upon them,
glancing and flashing on, now in sunshine, now in shade, now
hoarsely chiding with the opposing rock, now leaping triumphantly
over it, creates within me a feeling of mysterious awe of which I
never could wholly divest myself.
