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Updated: July 1, 2025
And there was Bela Wilson, a farmer, a chairmaker, a shoemaker, carpenter and blacksmith, all in one, as Uncle Walter declared; and while he was close and exacting in a bargain, and stinted in his gifts, he had many streaks of kindness, and added usefulness, honor, interest and life to the settlement. And among these people Fabens found pleasure and good fortune.
It was sometimes held in barns, and sometimes in the open fields; and the attendance of good wives and maidens, and the occurrence of music and dancing at the close, was no unusual joy. We may call it a 'movable feast, for every autumn it moved the rounds of the Settlement; and now in rare October, and near the wane of the month, it came Fabens' turn to hold it again.
Mrs. Fabens felt the bereavement quite as keenly as Fanny, and she declared, if the ox-heart cherries were fairer and more abundant now, their sweetness was bitter to her taste, and it seemed like devouring so much beauty and song to eat them; for beauty had been banished and song silenced, to bring them to such a yield.
Then a song was called for, and Colwell sang the 'Tea Song; and Fanny Fabens sang the 'Whippoorwill, and the very air attended, to hear the happy girl, and the insects were hushed to silence, and the moon leaned and listened, and the woods and the lake bandied back and to the chorus, and repeated, and prolonged her full and silvery sounds.
In all our forest region magnificent sugar maples abounded like an orchard, and Fabens prepared for his spring encampment in the bush.
How I did feel when the creature sprung and catched little Clinton in his paws! Awful! But then, I've a little more hope from the dream." "So've I, Miss Fabens," responded Uncle Walter, in a tone of great animation. "So've I. Come on, boys, let's look awhile longer. Come, Wilson, come, Colwell and Teezle.
He was a popular merchant, and the central attraction of several gay circles in the town. With her searching discernment, Mrs. Fabens had discovered in him more than one design which she pronounced artful; she studied his character, and told her husband and daughter in confidence, she believed him a cunning flatterer, and a cheat; and that he would not always sail in smooth water in Summerfield.
You would have worshipped an Indian, Julia, if he had brought Clinton alive to your arms, on the day of the great search, would you not?" "I should have been tempted to worship him. Words could not have told my gratitude and love," said Mrs. Fabens.
"I will have at least one hand my brother's hand!" cried George Ludlow, grasping his left hand and pressing it warmly. "It is he! it is Clinton! I know this face these eyes! I do not dream! It is not heaven has opened. Clinton's alive, and mother's word fulfilled!" cried Fabens, pressing the stranger closer to his heart. "Merciful heavens! what can this mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Nimblet.
"I cannot think of the poor boy for a moment," said Fabens, "without grief for his loss and regret for the affliction. But we cannot have everything as we like it now. We must be resigned, and wait for heaven to bring the perfect bliss. God afflicts in mercy; I am sure we shall meet him in heaven, and that will be greater than any blessing earth can give.
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