Singing-School" brought forth every spring and fall the entire strength
of this excellent lady. The origin of this festivity was of ancient
date. The early settlers in Foxden, while holding decided opinions
concerning the mischief of church-organs, were unusually tolerant of
vocal music. They doubted not that a preached gospel might be worthily
seconded by a vigorous psalmody. Weekly meetings of the young men and
maidens were allowed for practice, and the pot of beans, surmounted by
its crisp coronal of pork, closed the evening in simple conviviality.
This singing-school had descended through the generations, and in solemn
rotation visited the families of all church-members. Under the fostering
care of Mrs. Widesworth, the occasion grew to a musical festival of
considerable importance. When the meeting was at her house, there were
invited many citizens of distinction from the neighboring towns; also,
there was summoned all that was lively, pretty, or profound in Foxden.
From three in the afternoon until nine in the evening the old house
broke out into singing, chatting, love-making, and sermonizing in rich
variety. The ancient bean-pot gave place to a tea-table loaded with
everything which might be baked or fried or stewed. Upon that day people
in wise foresight made but slender dinners. The hostess was known to
possess a culinary experience of no ordinary scope, and the air of the
house was heavy with the delicate incense of waffles and dough-nuts.
When the evening happened to be mild, and that comfortable estate of
fulness whose adjectives the Latin Grammar tells us require the ablative
had been attained, there was more music, secular, but highly decorous,
beneath the rustling boughs of the oak. Then the merriment grew hearty,
and mocked the sombre night. In vain the crickets chirped their shrill
jeer at fallen humanity; the crackling leaves whispered,--but no more
audibly than to the painted Indians who once danced beneath the tree
which the unborn Twynintuft was to monopolize.

Perhaps you think Mrs. Widesworth a kind-hearted, charitable,
respectable old lady,--in short, a model citizeness! Many Foxden people
thought so, until, in the fulness of time, they were drugged with
iconoclastic logic, ghastly and fierce. Then this worthy person suddenly
loomed before them as a patron and upholder of every social abuse. She
was a trampler upon the rights of her sex, and deeply involved in the
guilt of baby-selling at Charles