embrace of trust and
confidence and joy, the stone was rolled away, once and forever, from
the sepulchre of Miss Vilda's heart, and Easter morning broke there.

SCENE XVI.

_The New Homestead._

TIMOTHY'S QUEST IS ENDED, AND SAMANTHA SAYS "COME ALONG, DAVE!"

"Jabe Slocum! Do you know it's goin' on seven o'clock 'n' not a single
chore done?"

Jabe yawned, turned over, and listened to Samantha's unwelcome voice,
which (considerably louder than the voice of conscience) came from the
outside world to disturb his delicious morning slumbers.

"Jabe Slocum! Do you hear me?"

"Hear you? Gorry! you'd wake the seven sleepers if they was any whar
within ear-shot!"

"Well, will you git up?"

"Yes, I'll git up if you're goin' to hev a brash 'bout it, but I wish
you hedn't waked me so awful suddent. 'Don't ontwist the mornin' glory'
's my motto. Wait a spell 'n' the sun 'll do it, 'n' save a heap o' wear
'n' tear besides. Go 'long! I'll git up."

"I've heerd that story afore, 'n' I won't go 'long tell I hear you step
foot on the floor."

"Scoot! I tell yer I'll be out in a jiffy."

"Yes, I think I see yer. Your jiffies are consid'able like golden
opportunities, there ain't more 'n one of 'em in a lifetime!" and having
shot this Parthian arrow Samantha departed, as one having done her duty
in that humble sphere of action to which it had pleased Providence to
call her.

These were beautiful autumn days at the White Farm. The orchards were
gleaming, the grapes hung purple on the vines, and the odor of ripening
fruit was in the hazy air. The pink spirea had cast its feathery petals
by the gray stone walls, but the welcome golden-rod bloomed in royal
profusion along the brown waysides, and a crimson leaf hung here and
there in the treetops, just to give a hint of the fall styles in color.
Heaps of yellow pumpkins and squashes lay in the corners of the fields;
cornstalks bowed their heads beneath the weight of ripened ears; beans
threatened to burst through their yellow pods; the sound of the
threshing machine was heard in the land; and the "hull univarse wanted
to be waited on to once," according to Jabe Slocum; for, as he
affirmed, "Yer couldn't ketch up with your work nohow, for if yer set up
nights 'n' worked Sundays, the craps 'd ripen 'n' go to seed on yer
'fore yer could git 'em harvested!"

And if there was peace and plenty without there was quite as much within
doors.

"I can't hardly tell what's the