wide borders of
balm and lavender made the whole road-side sweet: the doors stood open,
and the cheery sounds of brisk farm life were to be heard all day long.
To all passers-by "Gunn's" seemed unchanged, unless it were that it had
grown even more prosperous and active. But in the hall, two knobbed old
canes which used to stand in the corner were hung by purple ribbons
from the great antlers on the wall, and would never be taken down again.
Hetty had hung them there the day after the funeral, and had laid the
squire's riding-whip across them, saying to herself as she did so,--

"There! I'll keep those up there as long as I live, and I wonder what
will become of them then or of the farm either," and she had a long and
sad reverie, standing with the riding-whip in her hand in the doorway,
and tying and untying the purple ribbons. But she shook the thought off
at last, saying to herself,--

"Well, well, I don't suppose the farm'll go begging. There are plenty of
people that would be glad enough to have me give it to them. I expect
it will have to go to Cousin Josiah after all; but father couldn't abide
him. It's a great pity I wasn't a boy, then I could have married and had
children to take it." A sudden flush covered Hetty's face as she said
this, and with a shamefaced, impatient twist of her expressive features,
she ran in hastily and laid the whip above the canes.

The only thing which broke in on the even tenor of this summer at Gunn's
was Caesar's experiencing religion in a great revival at the Methodist
church. Caesar had been under conviction again and again; but, as old Nan
said pathetically to her minister, there didn't seem to be "nothin' to
ketch hold by in Caesar." By the time his emotions had worked up to the
proper climax for a successful result, he was "done tired out," and
would "jest give right up" and "let go," and "there he was as bad's
ever, if not wuss." Poor old Nan was a very ardent and sincere
Christian, spite of her infirmities of temper, and she would wrestle
in prayer with and for her husband till her black cheeks shone under
streams of tears. She wrestled all the harder because the ungodly Caesar
would sometimes turn upon her, and in the most sarcastic and ungenerous
way ask if he didn't keep his temper better "without religion than she
did with it:" upon which Nan would groan and travail in spirit, and
beseech the Lord not to "go an' let her be a stumbler-block in Caesar's
way." The Squire's