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Updated: June 25, 2025
Evatt," confessed Janice. "Let's have sight of the wrapper," said the father. "Nay, Jan. This has been in no post-rider's bag or 't would bear the marks." "Peg, tell Charles to come here," ordered Mrs. Meredith, and after a five minutes spent by the group in various surmises, the bond-servant, followed by the still attentive Peg, entered the room.
He is still in the vigor of life going on as usual with his contracts. In 1838, Mr. Sims married Miss Fosburgh, of Onondaga Co., N. Y.; of the marriage three children were born, Mrs. Sloane of Buffalo, Mrs. Evatt of Cleveland, deceased, and Mrs. Wm. Starkweather of Cleveland. Joseph Perkins.
Janice not merely failed to note that the man paid no heed whatever to the land they strolled over, but herself ceased to give time or direction the slightest thought. "Oh!" she broke out finally, in her delight, "won't Tibbie be sorry when she knows what she's missed? And, forsooth, a proper pay out for her wrong-doing it is!" "What mean ye by that?" questioned Evatt.
"Surely thou art not really fearsome to brave comparison." "'T is not that, indeed," denied Janice, colouring, "but well in a moment." The girl turned her back to Mr. Evatt, and in a moment faced him once more, the miniature in her hand. "Isn't she beautiful?" Evatt looked at the miniature. "That she is," he assented. "And strike me dumb, but she reminds me of some woman I've once seen in London."
The meal concluded, the ladies regretfully withdrew, leaving Evatt to enjoy what he chose of a decanter of the squire's best Madeira, which had been served to him, visitors of education being rare treats indeed. Like all young peoples, Americans ducked very low to transatlantic travellers, and, truly colonial, could not help but think an Englishman of necessity a superior kind of being.
With many a longing glance at the shore, he bade good-by to Evatt, who cheered him by predictions of reward and speedy return. Philemon gone, Evatt remained a short time in conference with the chaplain of the man-of-war, and then returned to Amboy. Once more taking horse, he set off on his return to Greenwood, arriving there in the heat of the afternoon.
Meredith, with the hospitality of the time, pressed him heartily to stay for more than the morrow, assuring him of a welcome at Greenwood for as long as he would make it his abiding spot. "Nothing, sir, would give me greater pleasure," responded Evatt, warmly, "but in confidence to ye, as a friend of government, I dare to say that my search for a farm is only the ostensible reason for my travels.
"He won't do nothin' but lease. He don't want no freemen 'bout here." "Yer might buy o' Squire Hennion. He sells now an' agin," suggested the innkeeper." "Who's he?" demanded Evatt. "Another of the monopolisers who got a grant in the early days, before the land was good for anything," explained Bagby. "His property is further down."
Though the visitor was the last of the household abed, he was early astir the next morning, and while Charles was beginning his labours of the day, by leading each horse to the trough in the barnyard, Evatt joined him. "We made a bad start at our first meeting, my man," he said in a friendly manner, "and I have only myself to blame for 't. One should keep his own secrets."
"Ye do right to suppose it unlikely. Yet 't is so, and while I can hardly hope that my word will be taken for it, his lies to us a moment since prove that he is capable of any untruth." Evatt spoke with such honesty of manner, and with such an apparent lack of motive for inventing a tale, that Janice became doubtful. "He could n't insult me," she said, "for I I have n't done anything."
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