University of Virginia Library

3. III.

Judge Robinson had become discouraged from any further
efforts to assist his improvident children; but the little grandchild
softened his heart somewhat, and the appeal to his sympathy
and aid became irresistible, when, one gusty March
morning, as he sat by his ample hearth and read a political
essay by a favorite senator, to his wife, who meantime baked
custard pies by the glowing wood coals, the daughter-in-law
entered, bearing the “precious darling” in her arms.

“And where is John?” inquired the parents, when the bonnets,
cloaks, shawls, &c., had been laid on the bureau, and the
baby called a pretty little doll, and kissed, time and again, the
while it opened its dewy blue eyes and stretched out its chubby
arms in terror and wonder, and the mother said, “Do n 't the
baby know what to make of grandpa and grandma, and every
ting?” in the tenderest falsetto imaginable.

But before Matilda could answer, the sturdy strokes of the
axe sounded from the wood-pile, and, a moment after, John entered,
bearing in his arms a quantity of freshly split sticks.

“Did you call the boy to take care of your horse?” asked
the judge; and turning to his wife, he continued, “Caty, can't
you get your spider out of the corner? It keeps back the
warmth so.”

John replied that he was boy enough himself, and had cared
for his own horse. John was politic, and suspected these little

signs of neither forgetting how to work, nor of disdaining it,
would give his father pleasure. In this he was not mistaken,
as he knew, by the request for the removal of the spider that
he might enjoy the heat.

“Now, is n't that just like the inconsideration of men?” said
Mrs. Robinson, appealing to Matilda, as she turned the handle
of the spider aside; “or have n't you been married long enough
to larn that they think a woman can do anything and everything,
without either time or chance? Mr. Robinson, I a'n't
going to do no sich a thing. I've got a good custard pie in
here, and I sha'n't spile it by taking the spider off the coals,
when it's half baked.”

This was said with the utmost good nature, for Mrs. Caty
Robinson loved her husband, and thought, as was right and
proper, that he was a little cleverer than most men; but her
devotion was not of a sort to induce the removal of the spider
at his suggestion, spoil her custard, and then pout half a day
at the misfortune.

When the custard was baked, the good old lady held it up in
triumph. A white linen towel, she herself had spun and woven,
prevented the dish from burning her hands, while she advised
Matilda to take a lesson from her old mother and begin right,
not humoring John in all his whims, but always to use her own
wit when she knew she was in the right: urging, that in this
particular instance, she had, as fruit of her prudence, the beautifulest
pie she ever see, while if she had minded Robinson, she
would have had a batch that nobody could eat, and that would
have aggravated her whenever she thought of it.

“Well, well, mother,” said the judge, as she brushed the
ashes from the corner with the wing of a turkey, “your judgment
is generally pretty correct; and while your pie baked, I
cooked up a little plan which I want seasoned with your
opinion.”

It happened, as is often the case with well-to-do farmers, that
Judge Robinson had on an obscure nook of his handsome estate
an old house. He had formerly dwelt in it himself; but
since his more affluent days, and the building of a more commodious
residence, it had been let to a tenant, with a quantity

of land. It was an old-fashioned, irregular sort of building,
with mossy roof, steep gables, whitewashed walls, &c. Nevertheless,
it was a comfortable-looking tenement, with orchard,
barn, crib, smoke-house, and other like conveniences. The plan
which he had now cooked up was, to renovate the old house
a little, for the occupancy of John and Matilda. As much
ground as he could cultivate was placed at the young man's
disposal: a garden, in which currant bushes, strawberries,
horse-radish and asparagus were beginning to sprout, with a
cow, two horses, and the necessary agricultural implements.

This kind of assistance—the means of helping themselves—
was not precisely the kind they had hoped for. But “beggars
must not be choosers,” said Mrs. John Robinson, disposed,
woman-like, to make the best of the best; and, in truth, as she
thought more about the plan, she began to like it: it would be
so delightful to have the garden, and to learn the art of butter-making,
and all the other mysteries of country life. Then, too,
the baby would have a nice green yard to play in—the idea
was really charming.

Mr. John Robinson soon after told his friends that he should
remove to his country property for the summer, that the health
of his family required it, and that he proposed to take a house
in town another winter: a hotel was a miserable apology for a
home, which he continued to describe with the richest and most
peculiar selection of adjectives.

Preliminaries arranged, Mr. and Mrs. John Robinson removed
to their country seat; in other words, they betook themselves,
with their baby, a very excellent trunk (which was Mrs.
Robinson's), and a very poor old one (which was Mr. Robinson's),
to the ancient tenant-house of Mr. Robinson—because, in
brief, they could not do otherwise.

And to that place, as related in the beginning of this chapter,
I one evening, toward the close of the following May,
crossed the meadows to make my first call. John Robinson
had been my school-mate; I had known him in all the devious
paths “that led him up to man,” and therefore looked with
more leniency, perhaps, on his faults and foibles, than I otherwise
should have done. Besides, he had, mixed up with idle

and dissolute habits, and aside from his braggart conversation,
and disposition to tyrannize where he had power to do so, some
generous and good qualities. His wife, I fancied, must find the
old place lonesome, shut from the contemplation of everything
but wood and meadow, and would meet with many discouragements,
accustomed as she had been to stylish and luxurious
habits of life.

I had seen nothing of John for several years; but I had heard
reports not altogether favorable to his growth in grace or refinement.
The wife I had never seen: and as I walked down the
hollow, skipped over the run, (still trickling noisily with the
spring thaw,) climbed the next hill, passed the old oak, quickened
my steps through a strip of woods, and struck into the
lane leading directly to the door, I mused as to what sort of
person I should meet.

A thousand stars were out in the blue sky when the old gate
creaked on its hinges to admit me; there was sufficient light
for an outside observation, and I recognized such signs of thrift
and industry as I little expected to see; the picket fence had
been mended and whitewashed, the shrubberies trimmed, the
raspberry vines tied to supporting stakes, and a deal of rubbish
cleared from the yard, where the turf now lay fresh and smooth,
save here and there, where little patches had been broken for
the planting of flowers. The glimpse I caught of the high garden
beds, straight rows of peas, pale shoots of onions, and
straggling radish-tops, were no less pleasantly suggestive.
From the cow-yard, I heard the rustling of hay, the sharp ringing
of the first streams of milk on the bottom of the tin pail,
and the hummed fragment of a rural song. The windows of
the kitchen were aglow, and the crying of a child, with the voice
of one who seemed trying to still it while some other task was
being performed, met my ear as I rapped for admission.

The door was opened by a young and pale-looking woman,
whom I supposed to be Mrs. Robinson, and to her I introduced
myself, as a neighbor, well known to her husband. There was
a slight trepidation in her manner, indicating a diffidence I did
not expect, though her welcome was full of cordiality, grace,
and sweetness. The roses were gone from her cheeks, and the

curls tucked away from their flowing, but she had, instead,
that look of patient, motherly meekness, which made her more
beautiful; her dress was neat and tasteful, and as she left the
tea-kettle steaming on the hearth, the table, with its snowy
cloth falling almost to the floor, and the tea things partially arranged,
and took the baby on her knees, she presented, with
her surroundings, a picture which might have made a painter
immortal. Their furniture was neither expensive nor profuse;
but the happy disposition of such as they had, gave an air
even of elegance to their home. The white muslin curtains at
the windows, flowing draperies over the tables, the few books,
the guitar, and the flowers, imparted that particular charm to
the place which I have known a much larger expenditure fail to
produce.

Mr. Robinson's first exclamation, on seeing me, was profanely
good-natured; and after his surprise had thus vented
itself he gave me a friendly welcome, and taking the baby
from his wife's arms, entertained me with accounts of his success
as a farmer. Nor did he neglect to praise the aptitude and
many excellencies of his wife; telling me she had not only
learned to bake bread, pies, puddings, and the like, but that she
could wash, iron, and scrub; in fact, understood all the less elegant
duties of housekeeping. The lady blushed to hear herself
so praised; but she shrunk with mortification from the
rough adjectives with which each compliment was confirmed.

After partaking of their delicious tea, and various etceteras, I
was quite willing to endorse all commendation of the housekeeper,
and as I took leave of my new acquaintance I could
not avoid saying something of the pleasure I had enjoyed,
as well as expressing a hope that we should meet each other
very frequently.

Often of summer evenings, as I sat in the moonlight, I heard
the music of the guitar across the hill; and once in a while,
when it was very still, I could hear the young wife singing to
her baby. We had soon a little path worn through the meadow,
and many were the exchanges of ginger cakes and pies which
it facilitated. Sometimes I caught the flutter of the white
blanket on the edge of the hill and ran to meet my friend and

relieve her of her precious burden. There was no very deep
or close sympathy between us, but however different the circle
of our lives and thoughts, there were points that touched. She
could teach me to embroider, and to make various little articles,
pretty and useful, while in other ways I was not less useful to
her. Though she never heard of the Mask of Comus, or read
the Fairie Queen, there were other things to talk about.

So the summer went by, and the fall; and when the fires
were kindled on the hearth, the long skirts of the baby were
tucked up, and she was toddling from chair to chair, and delighting
father and mother by lisping the name of each. Mrs.
Robinson was well pleased with her new life, and often expressed
surprise that the idle nothings of her former experience
could have satisfied her. The autumn tasks, of putting up and
down sweetmeats and pickles, were accomplished without difficulty
or complaint; and even the winter, which she had always
heard was so lonely and comfortless in the country, was to the
young wife and mother just as pleasant as any other season.
There were knitting and patchwork, sewing and mending, always,
to make the days short; then the meat was to be minced
for pies, the eggs beaten, or the cakes baked; so that, far from
having time hang heavy on her hands, she had scarcely sufficient
for all the duties of the day. During the blustering
months of snow we saw less of each other than previously;
yet we had not a few pleasant chats and rural games in the
broad light of the wood fires.

For the most part, the demeanor of Mr. Robinson toward
his wife and child was gentle and affectionate: but sometimes,
for he was of an arbitrary and irritable temperament, he gave
expression to such coarseness and harshness as must have
driven a sensitive and refined woman “weeping to her bed.”
As my presence began to be less a restraint, these unpleasant
encounters became of more frequent occurrence; and the wife,
instead of the silent endurance practiced at first, learned to retort
smartly, then angrily. However, these were episodes useful
for the general domestic tranquillity, and were very far
from requiring the binding over of either party to keep the
peace.