ht of yellow stubble-fields, sleeping in
remoter view; the neatness and abundance of his farm-yard, proclaimed
by the lordly cock in a rousing and resonant crow; the odor of hay and
grain from his barn near by; the quiet and cosy comfort of his home;
the presence of Julia and Fanny, the one reading David from that noble
old ode called the Sixty-fifth Psalm, and the other at his side,
embracing his neck in a clasp of leaning affection: those pleasant
sights that regaled his gaze, and those ardent emotions of gratitude
that thrilled him through and through in the sweet contemplation,
directed his thoughts to the God who gave them, and he thanked him for
his bounty; attained still more lofty conceptions of his love; and, as
Julia concluded the psalm, repeated the words, "Praise waiteth for
Thee, O God! Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, and thy paths
drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, and the
little hills rejoice on every side. Praise waiteth for Thee!"

As he concluded the pious apostrophe, a stranger, till then unobserved,
stepped before him, and inquired if it was Squire Fabens of Summerfield
whom he had the honor to address. Being answered in the affirmative,
the stranger continued--"I know one Daniel Fabens on the Hudson, at
whose house I have often tarried, and aware that I was about to visit
the Lake Country, he informed me of you, sir, and insisted on my giving
you a call."

"Daniel Fabens?--Daniel Fabens;--Let me see. O, it must be my Uncle
Abraham's son; he had a Daniel; the only one of the name I know of. It
must be he."

"I think he called you Uncle, sir."

"No, cousin. Our fathers were brothers. I am often called Uncle by
cousins and neighbors. But it's of no consequence, sir. You are just
as welcome. I was only casting in my mind what Fabens it could be. I
am glad to see a friend from the Hudson, sir; and what may I call your
name?"

"My name is Lovelight. I am a minister of Christ. I have a message to
your country."

"I took you for a minister. You are welcome to Summerfield; and to a
home with us while you tarry. This is my wife, sir, and that is my
daughter. Walk into the house, walk in; and I will take care of your
horse: you both look weary."

The horse was unsaddled, and washed with cool water from the well, and
turned into a field of fresh clover; and the stranger followed Mrs.
Fabens and Fanny into the house; and, after resting and bathing, a