A Home in the West: Or, Emigration and Its Consequences

CHAPTER I. The resolution.

CHAPTER I The resolution. The humble home of a mechanic in a pleasant village of Connecticut, is the opening scene of our story. In its cheerful kitchen, with its neat rag carpet, glowing coal fire and white curtains, sat Annie Judson awaiting the return of her husband to the evening meal. It was nearly six by the busy little clock upon the mantel, and though a blustering March storm was raging without, all within the little dwelling indicated peace and comfort. In a pretty willow cradle slept a baby boy of six months in his pure night clothes, while the mother sat busy with sewing by his side in a neat calico dress and plain collar. The supper was upon the table, if we except the closely covered dishes by the fire, and the tea-pot into which the water is poured from the steaming kettle, as a familiar step is heard upon the gravel walk. “You are late to night, Walter,” was the greeting of the young wife as she sprang to open the door into the entry and met a snowy form just within it and received a hasty kiss upon her fair brow. Assisting him to remove his overcoat and hat she took them to the door, shook the accumulated flakes from them, and quietly hung them away. Walter had sunk into a chair near the stove, and buried his face in his hands. With no word of comment or inquiry, Annie brought from a closet his slippers and drawing a stool to his feet, playfully attempted to remove the heavy boots. Thus aroused, he drew off his boots and donned the slippers, made some remark about the weather, asked “what have you been doing to-day?” and going to the cradle, kissed the baby, waking it of course, for what man ever kissed a sleeping babe without waking it? Annie left the room for some milk and on returning found him in the same despondent posture as at first. A sadder look came over her face, as she fed the babe and returned it to the cradle. Then gently approaching him she said softly: “Supper is ready, Walter.” “I do not wish any to-night,” he replied without raising his head. “But you will eat with me, now that I have waited so long for you. Come,” she added playfully, “I will 32 not hear one word of your troubles till after tea, and if anything is wrong I know you want me to cheer you up.” It was even so; and already had the process of “cheering up” commenced. There was no withstanding her gentle manner and pleasant voice, and he sat down at the little table, and as she poured his tea and filled his plate, ate almost as heartily as usual of the plain, but well-cooked food. Before the close of the meal, he seemed almost to have regained his usual good spirits. “And now,” said Annie as she again seated herself at his feet, “you must tell me what is the matter.” “There is little to tell, Annie,” he replied, the gloom settling back upon his brow. “I have seen Benson to-day, and he refuses to pay me for that last job, as there is an informality in the contract which allows him to do so legally, though he knows that it is my just due, and even with it, I would have lost upon his work.” “How much is the amount?” “Eighty–five dollars, which with my losses on Warren’s house and shop, make one hundred and fifty lost within six months. Wages are low, and I am 33 now in debt with no means of paying since this has failed me.” “How much do we owe at the grocery store,” again asked Annie. “About thirty dollars, and as much more in small bills for shoes, clothing, and wood. What to do I do not know. I have no work engaged before the middle of April, and then have to wait six months for my pay. A pretty state of things.” He went on bitterly, “a poor man is compelled to run in debt because he must wait for his dues, and then often to be cheated out of it at the end. Now instead of having money to pay these bills and something over towards getting a home, as I expected, I can collect barely...