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Updated: June 9, 2025
Emma, absorbed in manifold cares for the children, was only solicitous on Susannah's account lest a night's rest in that house should be impossible. Smith, pacing with a child in his arms, seemed to be head and shoulders above the level whose surface could be ruffled by life's minor affairs.
The date of Susannah's conversion was remembered, and became the date of the annual Children's Festival; and in every settlement and congregation special meetings for children were regularly held. But the system was found too expensive. At the Synod of 1769 it was abandoned.
Susannah's dress and bonnet were roughly blown, and the clothes on the line flapped again around the tall figure of the witch in the doorway. Susannah contradicted again with the scornful superiority of youth. "I don't believe that your son is a prophet." Lucy Smith, having the sensitive receptive power of an hysteric, was sobered now by the determination of Susannah's aspect.
But an obstacle intervened before he could do so. A large and splendid barge had drawn up close to the platform, and shouts were heard from the tribune and from the mob which had till now looked on in breathless suspense and profound silence: "Susannah's barge!" "Look at the Nile, look at the river!" "It is the water-wagtail Philammon's rich heiress!" "A pretty sight!"
But next day, in speaking to Ephraim, he pointed out that in the worst communities there were always pure-minded women who knew little or nothing of the evil around them, and said he believed that his message would still be the means of bringing home the truth to Susannah's heart. In the meantime an interval of comparative peace had come to Kirtland.
He is dead, said Obadiah, he is certainly dead! So am not I, said the foolish scullion. Here is sad news, Trim, cried Susannah, wiping her eyes as Trim stepp'd into the kitchen, master Bobby is dead and buried the funeral was an interpolation of Susannah's we shall have all to go into mourning, said Susannah. I hope not, said Trim. You hope not! cried Susannah earnestly.
I tell you, Lila may never stir from the midst of these tobacco fields; she may be buried alive all her days between these muddy roads that lead heaven knows where, and yet she may live a lot bigger and fuller life than she might have done with all London at her feet, as they say it was at your Greataunt Susannah's.
Then she added more disconsolately, "I am lonely; I want you to talk to me, cousin." The gust had lifted Ephraim's papers and shed them upon the floor. He looked down at them without moving. Life in a world of thoughts in which his fellows took no interest, had produced in him a singularly undemonstrative manner. Susannah's red lips were pouting. "Come, cousin, I am so tired of myself."
Hebrew was the new language he wished to acquire, and he felt the call to revise the Old Testament. Only one unusual incident occurred in Susannah's presently peaceful life. One day in the golden October she set out to walk some distance up the valley of the Chagrin River.
Nearest to the side-wall, beneath Shakespeare's bust, is a slab bearing a Latin inscription addressed to his wife, and covering her remains; then his own slab, with the old anathematizing stanza upon it; then that of Thomas Nash, who married his granddaughter; then that of Dr. Hall, the husband of his daughter Susannah; and, lastly, Susannah's own.
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