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"Such is life," thought Graffam; "the little by little of human action goes to fill up the warp of time, and decides the worth of what we manufacture for eternity." Then he looked sadly over his own work, and could but say to himself, "It is all loose ends, loose ends. What a web for eternity!" "Supper is ready," said Mrs. Graffam, and the poor man turned toward the table.
"They are all asleep," said his wife; and the poor man turned quickly toward the fire again, for he feared that she would add, "The poor creatures have been out upon the plains all day: Heaven knows what we shall do when the berries are gone." But Mrs. Graffam said nothing more. She set out the pine table, and going to an old chest brought a white cloth; it was of bird's-eye diaper.
Graffam brought from the basket a long flannel dress, and put it upon "wee bit," gently rubbing its blue limbs; then, with something of the freedom and confidence of other days, she laid poor baby upon its father's knee, and going again to the friendly basket, brought thence a bottle, from which she dropped a little fine-flavored cordial into warm water.
Graffam, smiling as she advanced toward the door. Dora was surprised at the ease of her manner, and the pleasant expression of her countenance, as she handed them chairs, and seemed really glad to see them. "The babe is better," said she, as Emma advanced toward the cradle; and at that moment the little one awoke. The good motherly Dora took the "wee bit" into her arms, and talked with Mrs.
19th. And after dinner my wife and I took horse, and rode with marvellous, and the first and only hour of, pleasure, that ever I had in this estate since I had to do with it, to Brampton woods; and through the wood rode, and gathered nuts in my way, and then at Graffam to an old woman's house to drink, where my wife used to go; and being in all circumstances highly pleased, and in my wife's riding and good company at this time, I rode, and she showed me the river behind my father's house, which is very pleasant, and so saw her home, and I straight to Huntingdon, and there met Mr.
Do what thou canst, and thus provide for thyself "a treasure in the heavens that faileth not." There are some things spoken of in the town where Emma died, things not wholly forgotten, but far back in the distance of years. It is said that Mr. Graffam, who is now a Church-member and a town officer, was once a complete sot, living in a log-hut upon the plain. So much for the temperance reform.
"When did she die?" asked Mrs. Graffam. "Just as the grass was getting green," said Mary. "It was a fit time for her to die, Mrs. Graffam; for she was born in the spring, and it seemed exactly as though the sweet bud had to go back to the summer-land before it could bloom." "And if your little baby dies, Mrs. Graffam," said Eddy, "he will be a flower in God's garden; won't he, Mary?"
"Ah, how does thee do?" replied the good man, with evident pleasure. "I was not looking for thee in the potato field." "I suppose not," replied Emma, smiling. "I am like Ruth, the Moabitess, who went to glean in the fields of Boaz: only she wanted grain, and I want counsel." Friend Sliver laid down his hoe, and coming up to the wall, asked, "What is it, child?" "You know Mr. Graffam, sir?"
Then poor Mrs. Graffam wept much, saying that she needed just such a friend. And when they went away, she wrapped the babe in a shawl, and, taking it in her arms, went with them to the road where they had left their horse. "You will come and see me again, won't you?" she asked. And Emma replied, "Yes, Mrs. Graffam; I will come as long as I am able, and when I am not, you must come and see me."
"Your friend, EMMA LINDSAY." Graffam looked at his wife as she came in with the note, and, notwithstanding she had lately spoken very harsh words to him, he pitied her, and somehow felt as though she was not greatly to blame for calling him an "unfeeling brute." On the other hand, as Mrs.
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