The Finland Family; or Fancies Taken for Facts

Front matter

diLtdfot ’j

O’BRIEN

PURCHASE

Preface

tion of its salutary influence amid the daily duties and cares and common incidents of life. For this purpose, she has selected an interesting phase of men¬ tal habits, which, though combining some of the most striking points of strongly-marked characters in every class and station, is very frequently overlooked, as if it were to be observed only in the past, in the history of some almost forgotten age, or some inferior gener¬ ation. The intelligent reader, therefore, will not be surprised to find, in the sketches here presented, such a combination of pure examples and crude specimens of life and manners, as to the unreflecting may seem almost inconsistent with the time and place to which it is ascribed.

It is unquestionable, that even now, as well in the most refined as in the least cultivated circles, a careful observer, conversant with the modes of thought cur¬ rent among different classes, may daily detect, in the vain reliance of many persons upon cherished omens of good fortune, and their vain resistance to supersti tious fears of imaginary ills, a base counterfeit of he first principle of practical piety, faith in Divine provi¬ dence. And -it is one of the remarkable features of the present time, that some theories, which lay claim to a place among principles of science, have an obvi-

P REFACE.

V ous tendency to carry back the minds of many to con¬ fidence, not only in hurtful superstitions, but also in some of the blasphemous deceits of ancient heathen ism ; which, in the various forms of necromancy and witchcraft, were the source of all superstitious signs or omens that still prevail, in some degree, in Chris¬ tian lands. Scientific speculation, assuming the name of philosophy, has impiously pretended even to invade the recesses of the invisible world, and to give a tangi¬ ble reality to the fancies of heathen fiction, with its tabled shades of the departed. It has thus set up, in a refined materialism, a new form of the strange error, which has heretofore extensively connected important events of divine providence, as in a permanent arrange¬ ment, with some of the meanest of ’risible objects ; such, for instance, as an old horse-shoe, a pin falling on its point, or an odd egg in the nest of a fowl. And thus the rash efforts of modern science, in some ot its lower manifestations by unfledged physiologists, to put itself in the place of faith in the word of God, as

f

a medium of communication between the visible and the invisible, are in fact, nothing else than a revival of the vain struggles of old superstition, in impious and idle rivalry of revealed truth. The follies of such su¬ perstition, therefore, afford a proper basis for an illus

VI

Preface.

tration of the real nature of religious* faith, adapted to the present state of science.

Some readers of this volume may think, that the influence of true religion, in correcting the errors of superstition, should be more conspicuous ; or that a more direct effort should have been made to inculcate the peculiar doctrines of the gospel. So the writer also thought, at the outset ; but was led to believe, as the narrative proceeded, that such examples of calm and consistent piety as are exhibited in the conduct of several of the characters introduced, might prove more effectual than much moralizing, to lead some readers to the esteem and love of true religion, the essence of which is

TRUST IN OOD.

CffitUtUs

I.— The Pet Lamb,

(I. —The New Comers,

III. — The Good Uncle,

IY. — Winter Scenes,

Y. — The Young Gardener, YI. — The Evening Walk, YII. — The Rapping, .

VliL — The Repulse,

IX. — The New Terror, .

X. — The Revenge,

XI. — The Recovery,

XII. — The Pleasant Ride,

XIII. — Sweet Sympathies, .

XI Y. — Strange Things, .

XY. — Marvels of Science, XYI. — Relations Changed, paob

I

famb.

Not far from one of the most beautiful vil¬ lages in New England stands an ancient habi tation, remarkable as one of the oldest in the country. It is situated upon an elevation overlooking rich meadows and extensive woods, and the windings of the beautiful Con¬ necticut, with the blue hills in the distance.

This antiquated mansion was some forty years since inhabited by the family of Mr. George Finland, an English gentleman, bet¬ ter known to his old friends by the name of “ Easy George a title which his mildness and good-humor well merited. Mr. Finland was one of the best of neighbors, accommo¬ dating and obliging ; his friends never hesi¬ tated to ask favors of him, and he never re¬ fused his aid when it was in his power to assist any me. It is no wonder that such a character was a general favorite. Mrs. Finland was the exact counterpart of her husband in almost every respect. Benevolent, in the true sense of the word, her chief wish seemed to be, to make every one about her comforta¬ ble and happy. She was not born in Eng land ; but her parents were originally from that happy land. And although in the strug¬ gle of our country with Britain her father, Mr. York, had espoused the cause of the Uni¬ ted States, yet when the long war was over, his love of home revived, and its early scenes were as dear to his heart as ever. lie had not been dead many years, and the older children of his daughter still remembered their good old grandfather. Mr. and Mrs. Finland, though possessing everything tempo¬ ral that might contribute to their comfort, were often silent and gloomy, even when by their every action it was evident that they wished to see others happy.

The superstitious would say, they were too much alike to live long together. Alas ! how much evil has been done by blind supersti tion ; the strange, unfounded dread of some¬ thing undefinable ; something which may never come to pass. The light of the Gospel has not yet entirely dispelled those gloomy clouds which in the days of cur forefathers i

The Pet Lamb.

darkened the minds of many, and were the cause of much suffering. The darkness of superstition still shrouds the minds of multi¬ tudes in this favored land. Mr. Finland’s mind had been, from his earliest youth, im¬ bued with superstitious notions, and in his maturer years he suffered the evil consequences of such erroneous education. In this respect, Mrs. Finland was indeed too much like her husband. Their dream-book — for some fami¬ lies have such books, though our more enlight¬ ened readers may doubt the fact — was asoften consulted as their almanac ; and these otherwise intelligent parents thought it part of their duty to explain dreams and omens to their children, and to teach them what days were lucky or unlucky, and the happy or nnhappy position of moles, &c., &c. ; thus in¬ stilling into their young minds that poison of vain superstition which has caused much misery to many, in spite of their convictions of its falsehood.

Four bright children blessed the home of Mr. and Mrs. Finland. .George, who was eighteen, was a noble, open-hearted youth : the favorite of his friends, and the idol of his family. Mary, next in age to George, was full of playfulness and wit, and ^vould have been always happy if some unlucky dieam, Dr some troublesome sign, had not occasionally darkened her brightest days. However, she always appeared cheerful ; for the bright hopes of her young heart would soon dispel the gloomy mists of superstitious fears. Eliza¬ beth, a sweet girl of fourteen, was Mary’s op¬ posite in everything but affection. Her loving heart clung to every friend with devoted fond¬ ness, and her mild «ye had a tear even for dumb animals when they suffered, and the curse of superstition took deep hold upon hei mind. Little William, though four years old, was still called the baby. He was the joy of every heart, and too young as yet to imbibe many of the strange notions of this otherwise amiable family.

We must not omit, before proceeding fur¬ ther wuth our narrative, to introduce the do¬ mestics of the family of Mr. Finland. Hardicus and Judy were negro slaves ; for the population of New England was not then en¬ tirely composed of freemen ! Judy had been born in America, and from early childhood had been in the possession of Mr. York’s fami¬ ly. She had always been truly attached to her young mistress, who was now Mrs. Fin land, and to whun Mr. York gave her soon

The Pet Lamb.

alter the marriage of his daughter. She was married young to Hardicus, who was much older than herself ; a negro whom a neighbor, Captain Mason, had brought from the West Indies, and whom Judy persuaded Mr. Fin¬ land to buy after he became her husband. Little Patty was their only child, and though scarcely ten years old, had learned to be very handy about the house. She always called herself master Willie’s maid ; for she had watched him when a little baby, and followed after his tottering steps when he was just learning to walk, and had saved him from many a fall by preventing him from climbing. And Patty said she would always live with Master Willie ; for like other children, little Patty had her day-dreams, and would build castles in the air. The little cabin where Hardicus lived was a few yards from the ‘great house,’ as he always called the old family mansion. It consisted of two rooms ; one of which wTas occupied by the old man and his young wife, (Patty always sleeping in the great house), and the other was litted up for the poultry, with a wooden partition between the two. Our readers may therefore readily imagine that Hardicus and Judy were early risers. > * * *

The Finland Family.

One*fine morning in spring, George lemen* bered that there were some fruit trees which Mr. Finland wished to have transplanted, and reminded his father about them. It was agreed to set them out directly. George brought them from the cellar, where they had been deposited the day before. Mr. Finland told George he thought they might have a warm rain after the mild weather, and that would settle the earth about the roots and se¬ cure them. They had just made all their ar¬ rangements to begin the work, when Mrs. Fin¬ land hastily came out of the house to inquire what they were doing. When told, she ex¬ claimed, “ Oh ! Mr. Finland, how can you be so forgetful ? This is Friday !”

u Sure enough,” said he, “ so it is. How strange that I should forget! Well, I am" glad, my dear, that you told me before we had planted them ; for nothing would tempt me, George, to set them out to day. Lay them close by the fence, my son, and cover the roots with some earth, and they will be handy to get at to-morrow, and if it does rain to¬ night, they will be all the better for that.”

George did as his father directed, but felt sorry that the work must be put off, as he had promised to go a-f*shing early the next morn-

The Pet Lamb.

ing with some friends ; and in that case, liardicus would be obliged to leave his work in the garden to assist Mr. Finland. George was much troubled, and almost wished in hia heart that there was no Friday. He followed his parents dejectedly into the house, and spoke of his engagement for the next morning His father said it was no matter ; for Hardicus could put off planting until the next rain.

“ But suppose we should have the rain to¬ night ?” George modestly intimated.

“ Well then it would be a pity,” said hia father, “ to take Hardicus from the garden ; and I think you had better give up the fishing.”

George assented, and wrote a note to his friend, Donald Mason, that the fishing party must go without him. After he had despatch¬ ed little Patty with the note, he wandered out in search of some employment. He found Elizabeth finishing a mat which she had been braiding of strips of cloth, and quietly seated himself and began to help her.

“ This is already begun,” said he to rer, “and it will not be bad luck to finish it ; so we will work together, Lizzy, and you will soon have it done.”

“O! that is just like von, George, you

The Finland Family.

are the best brother in the world ; and I can’t tell how I love you ; and now if we only had the book, you could find out my dream.”

u Well, what was it ?” asked George. “ Per¬ haps I can remember enough from the book to explain it to you.”

“ I dreamed,” said Elizabeth, “about my pet Sylvia ; but there was nothing distinct enough for me to teL you. It was about flowers and sheep, and trees and water, but all the time something; seemed wrong; with Sylvia.”

“ Was it soon after you went to bed, Lizzy ? or in the morning ?”

“I think it was in the morning. Yes, I know it was ; for I was still dreaming when Patty touched me and told me I bid her wake me early.”

“ Well then, Lizzy, it is all very good ; for if your dream troubled you, and you are sure it was a morning dream, then you may know there is something pleasant to take place ; for morning dreams are always interpreted contrary .”

“ I am very glad to hear you say so ; for I shall be happy now, and we will work so fast together, that we shall have this tedious mat finished to-day !”

The Pet Lamb.

Mr. Finland sat quietly down to his news¬ paper; thinking that as he had no work begun he would have abundant leisure to read.

This dull daj at length drew to a close, and I he soft clouds shut in the evening. At mid¬ night the gentle showers descended, and early the Finlands awoke, rejoicing in a bright spring morning. And now George feels his disappointment keenly ; the time for the fish¬ ing party to start has passed ; and he pre . pares, after breakfast, to plant the trees. He saunters towards the spot where he so care¬ fully deposited them, and finds his father there before him. He wonders to see regret and displeasure upon his open and expressive countenance. But soon his wonder ceased ; when coming near he found that the bark had been nibbled off from almost all of the trees by Elizabeth’s pet lamb.

44 Oh !” exclaimed George, 44 I felt sure yesterday that something would happen to these trees. I wish we had not touched them.”

44 It is now too late to regret thi3 sad acci¬ dent,” replied his father, 44 there are a few still safe, and these we will plant at once ; and the lamb must be kept out of the yard. Come here my daughter, take Sylvia into the meadow. The weather is s mild now, that she will get no harm by sleeping in the open air.’5

Elizabeth took her pet in her arms, and they were soon frolicking together on the banks of the clear stream, which wound beautifully through the green meadows towards the river. She was delighted to find some early flowers ; and taking the ribbon from her hair, she tied it about Sylvia’s neck ; and then gathering the flowers and interweaving a delicate green vine among them, she had nearly completed a beautiful wreath for her pet, when she was startled from her sweet employment by a shrill voice, crying out, “ O ! honey, you swate little cratur, nivei' put your wee bit of a hand upon it. ’Tis the most unluckiest of all the yarbs that grows !”

Elizabeth turned and saw Bess, the witch of the neighborhood, standing a short distance from her.

“ What ! which ?” she exclaimed in affright.

u The green — the green — never tetch it, dar*

I lint— take it off — never tetch it.” 1

And Elizabeth tore off the beautiful wreath, which she had just thrown over Sylvia’s head to see how becomirg it would look when quite complete.

Poor lampkm !” the hag continued, “ if

The Pet Lamb.

ye be dead in the morning, I shan’t mar¬ vel.55

Elizabeth’s sweet face was pale as death, and she stood motionless with horror, while Less wrent on with her talk.

“ But come along home wi’ me, honey dear, and I will give ye a yarb to rub your hands wi’, and the lampkin’s neck, and then no harm shall come till it.”

“ Oh ! no, no !” said Elizabeth, looking at the brawny speaker with superstitious awe. “I cannot go through that thick wood with you.”

“ And why not, honey ? I’ll never harm ye.”

But Elizabeth did not wait to hear her farther. She ran towards home as fast as her trembling limbs would allow ; followed by Sylvia, with the ribbon about her neck and a few torn flowers dangling from it. They had just reached the door step, when Elizabeth fell fainting into the room. Mary ran towards her, and Mr. Finland raised her in his arms. She soon revived, and finding the family about her she asked for Sylvia ; and locking round saw the little lamb in George’s ‘ quiet as if EDthing had disturbed it& Kino mistress.

“ O ! Sylvia, my sweet pet, I have killed yon !”

Mary .aughed heartily at the thought of a Iamb looking so bright after it was killed.

“ Jump down, pretty pet,55 said George, “and let Elizabeth see that you are more alive than she is. See,’5 he continued, “ she is as fresh as the morning and leaping from his arms the little animal began to caper about as usual.

“ Yes,” sighed Elizabeth, “ I see she seems just the same, but she will soon, soon, be dead ! Ah ! George you remember my dream” — and the poor girl put her hands over her face and sobbed aloud.

Her mother at length persuaded her to tell all that had occurred. While Elizabeth did so, their countenances expressed their uneasi¬ ness for the lamb ; and when she concluded, her mother said,

“ I trust, my child, that nothing will hap¬ pen to Sylvia ; but when you bought that ribbon the other day I intended to tell you that green was an unlucky color ; but knowing how nervous you are, I concluded to say

£hing to you abous it. I never like green, and I hope you wil never make choice of it again.”

The Pet Lamb.

“ I wish I had been with you, Lizzy,” said George, “ and then we would have gone with Bess for the herb she spoke of. I wish I knew where to find it.”

“ Perhaps she will be around here this eve¬ ning,” said Mary, u she does come sometimes, and seems as hungry as a bear. I wonder that witches should ever be hungry. I should think they could always get everything they want.” * Elizabeth did not recover her spirits that day ; and at sunset she placed some nice straw close behind the gate that opened into the meadow for Sylvia’s bed ; and saw her reposing sweetly there just as the night closed in. She had scarcely entered the house when Mr. Finland jumped up from the window and whispered something to Mary, who ran into the kitchen and soon returned with p nice fat chicken, which had been prepared t r be cooked the next morning.

u What is the matter ?” asked Mr. Finlandf who had observed his wife and daughter.

; “ Bess is coming towards the house,” said

Mrs. Finland, “ and wre want to have some¬ thing ready for her. Perhaps she is bringing that good herb vLich she spoke to Elizabeth about this morning.”

Mr. Finland looked steadily in the direction

Tiie Finland Family.

his wife pointed, and saw a black figure com¬ ing stealthily along through the dim twilight, which he soon knew to be Bess by the great dog that always followed her. The dog stopped near the lamb ; Bess said whist ! and he turned about and crept close to the woman’s heels. She came into the yard, and directly under the open window, raised an old horse¬ shoe, as if intending to dash it against the glass; but when she saw Mr. Finland, she made a low curtsey and crossed herself.

“ O ! I am so frightened,” said the trem¬ bling Elizabeth.

“ Turn your dress wrong side out over your head, and then she can’t harm you,” whis¬ pered her mother ; who did so herself, and Mary too, while Mr. Finland threw the loaf of bread and the chicken out of the window. Bess snatched up the things eagerly, and made towards home like a hungry tiger. Mr. Fin¬ land took Lizzie on his knee, and quieted her fears by saying that Bess was pleased now, and would do them no harm.

The next morning, Elizabeth’s first thoughts upon waking, turned towards her little favor¬ ite ; and stepping to the window and looking out, she saw that Sylvia 1 ad left her bed ear* lier than her mistress.

The Pet Lamb.

She dressed herself hastily, and was run¬ ning to look after her pet, when she met George, who asked her if she did not think &at the lamb had gone to make a breakfast m the flowers.

“ Dear brother, will you go with me to loo for her, I am so afraid ?”

“ Why, Lizzy ! afraid in the daytime — ;hat is too bad.”

“ I am afraid I shall not find her,” said Lizzy, ishamed to acknowledge the real cause of her trouble. “She is nowhere to be seen.”

“Well I will go, Lizzy; but don’t despair cpiite yet ; let us go around the barn first, she may be with the others. Come along and don’t tremble so, my little child ; don’t cry before you’re hurt.”

Then putting his arm around her waist he hurried her on.

“ There they all are, eating the fodder* — one — two — three — four.”

f “ Ah ! she is not among them,” said Eliza¬ beth. “ I shall never see her again.” And she began to cry.

“Never mind, never mind, Lizzie; don’t give up so soon. I promise you I’ll find her, dead or alive. If we don’t find her among the bushes in the meadow then, perhaps, she found her way through the bars and has got among neighbor Howe’s sheep. Ah ! Sylvia is a cunning little one after all, you find. Even pet lambs will ramble if you give them a chance.”

So away they ran over the field, searching in every thicket and by-corner, and over the hills, to look among the lambs of Mr. Howe’s flock — but nowhere could they find her.

“ Well,” said George, “ there is one place more. I do believe now that old Bess can tell us where she is ; and she will, too ; for Mary says mother was so kind as to give her a nice present last night.”

“ O dear, George, I can’t go with y< u ; and I am afraid to have you go alone. Who will go with you ?”

“ Come along, Lizzy, and don’t act like a silly child. No ! you may stay, and I will go alone.”

“ Pray listen to me, brother,” said Eliza* beth. u Father will go with you. Come home with me and ask him. I know he will go.”

“ No, I will not trouble father. Do you think I am afraid of any woman? No, not even of an old witch, in the daytime.”

“ But her dog — O, George, she could make him kill you.”

The Pet Lamb.

44 1 will take a good club and kill him , if he comes near me. I don’t -ike to make Bess mad with u*s, or I would have shot him before this time.”

So saying, he ran into the wood, while Eliz¬ abeth went home, filled with sad apprehen

sions.

George soon arrived at the mud hut of Bess, into which no one had entered for years, ex¬ cept its present inhabitant and her dog ; the undisputed possessors. The wood in which it was situated was part of Mr. Finland’s es¬ tate ; but neither he, n yr any of his neighbors, knew exactly when or how Bess took posses¬ sion of the place.

The hut seemed to be the remains of an In¬ dian wigwam, and as Bess was believed in all the country around to be a witch, no one dared to molest her. Her appearance truly corres¬ ponded with the idea one might form of such a character, as she strolled about at twilight, in search of food, followed by her large black dog, the terror of all the neighborhood. Every door was closed at her approach ; but every one threw something out of the window for her, so much did they fear this grisly visitant. Few had courage to speak kindly to her, or to treat her as a human being ; except Mr,

Heaton, the worthy minister, who had recently taken charge of the parish. But Bess never went near his residence if she could find food elsewhere. She seemed amazed the first time that good man spoke to her. Sue turned and hastened from the house as if terrified by the sound of a human voice speaking kindly to her ; and always from that time she avoid¬ ed him as much as possible.

When George arrived at the hut, he stood a few paces from the door, apparently afraid to approach too near, and called out “ Mrs. Nisbey,” for so he had heard her called by those to whom she had introduced herself.

Hearing him, she slowly opened the door, and putting out her head and long, tawny, uncovered neck —

“Be sure now,” she said, “ and is it ye, misther George ? I know Jist what ye be wanting — but come now, tell me what ye be afther ?”

“ Have you seen,” begun George —

“ Seed ! seed !” interrupted the hag, c I5ve seed many and many a thing. I’ve crossed the great wathers, and Bess has been a leddy in her day. But now I am a queen, and this is my throne, and ye be all of ye my slaves— and I laugh to see ye tremble wdien I come among ye. Yes !” she cried, raising her voice

The Pet Lamb.

to a higher pitch, “ IVe seed as much as ever a woman did. I’ve seed king George, — God bless his majesty, — face to face ; and I’ve seed, aye, I see now yer poor little lampkin, after what ye be coming. But ye shall never have it any more.”

“ Mrs. Nisbey,” said George, in a faltering voice, “ I will thank you very much if you will only tell me where to find the lamb.”

“ Ah ! my dearie,” she said, raising her frightful form and standing upright, with the door wide open, “ I tell ye, I have it here ; right here ; but ye shall never have i't !”

“ But I will,” said George, as he brandish¬ ed his formidable club, “ dead or alive. Hand it to me this moment.”

“ Whist ! now be aisy. Give me your hand, my dearie. You are a fine, handsome young jintleman ; and I should like to sit down by your side a bit. Let me hand ye in, and be sated, and I will make ye a lord ; for ye be too grand-looking to be your daddy’s ploughboy. Take my hand,” she continued, extending her brawny, uncovered arms, “and T will sate ye on my throne, close by my side.”

George stepped back in alarm, saying, a I cannot come in ; just give it out here to me, if you please, and I will pay you.”

“ I want none o’ yer money !” slie replied, “ the flesh is swather ’an money — the bones is swather ’an money — the skin is softher ’an money — the blood is swather ’an money — and I tell ye agin, ye shall never have it !”

“I will try then,” said George, “ what this good club can do !”

“ Come ye on thin,” said Bess, stepping back into the hut • but appearing again in an instant, she threw a sheep’s head at George, saying,

“ Look ye there, is that it ?”

Distressed and exasperated, at finding that the head was really that of poor Sylvia, he threw the club at Bess with great force ; she avoided it, however, and springing to¬ wards him, cried out, “ Now, now, I’ll have ye !”

George gave a leap and escaped her out¬ stretched arms, and while he looked about for a stout stick to defend himself, she stepped back to the door of her hovel, saying, “ I would na tetch ye for the univarse !”