CHAPTER XII.
THE NEW HOME.
When Fanny had finished her breakfast, she put on her best clothes, andstarted for New York with Mr. Grant, who, perhaps, was more desirous ofassisting the mother of Jenny than of confirming the story to which hehad just listened with so much interest and sympathy. We need not saythat the narrative of the returned wanderer was found to be true inevery respect, or that Mr. Grant destroyed the poor woman's note ofhand, by which she promised to pay the sums Fanny had expended in herbehalf.
Mrs. Kent, while she condemned and regretted the misdeeds of Fanny, wasenthusiastic in the praise she bestowed upon her kindness to the dyinggirl, and of her tenderness and devotion in those last trying hours.Mr. Grant could not doubt that a great change had come over Fanny; thatshe earnestly intended to lead a true and good life. Whether she wouldpersevere, and in any degree realize her present high aspirations,remained yet to be demonstrated; but he was hopeful. The solemn andimpressive scene through which she had passed had left deep impressionsupon her mind and heart, which he hoped would prove as lasting as theywere strong.
Mr. Grant called with Fanny to see Dr. Porter; and the benevolentphysician gladdened his heart by the warm commendations he lavishedupon Fanny; and, without knowing of her misdeeds, he declared she was atreasure in whom her friends ought continually to rejoice. It was notnecessary that he should know what evil she had done, for he mightnever see her again, and Mr. Grant's business with him related solelyto the future comfort of the soldier's family. The doctor had doneeverything that could be done for Mrs. Kent, and his family were sodeeply interested in the poor woman that she was not likely to sufferin the future. Mr. Grant promised to see him again, and cooeperate withhim in doing what might be needed for her comfort and happiness.
Mr. Grant and Fanny returned to Woodville by the noon train. Thepenitent girl felt that she had been forgiven, and the kindness of herfriend made her all the more determined to be faithful to theresolutions she had made. She had not hoped to escape the punishmentshe merited, and had not been prepared for the tender words which hadbeen addressed to her when it was evident that her penitence was real.
"Fanny," said Mr. Grant, as they entered the library, on her return, "Ishall, as I said before, be obliged to send you to your uncle inMinnesota."
"I am willing to go, sir," replied she, humbly.
"I understand you have frequently declared that you would not go."
"I have, but I am sorry I said anything of the kind."
"But I do not intend to send you there as a punishment for what youhave done. I freely forgive you."
"You are very kind to me, Mr. Grant, and I will do anything you wishwithout complaining."
"I am glad to see so excellent a spirit in you, which makes me sorry tosend you away at this time. If your conduct had warranted it before, Imight have made different arrangements; but it is too late now. I havewritten to your uncle, informing him that you would be with him nextweek. I promised him and your aunt, when I brought you here, that youshould be returned to them in two years; and that time has now expired.We shall be absent in Europe about six months; when we return, if youruncle is willing, I should be very glad to have you come back toWoodville. I hope you will like your aunt better than you used to likeher."
"I shall, sir."
Mr. Grant did not think it necessary to indulge in any long lectures.He had forgiven Fanny, and he hoped her future conduct would justifyhis clemency. Mrs. Green and the servants saw that she was a differentbeing. She was no longer rough, disobedient, and impertinent, for sheentered at once upon her effort to be kind and obliging to all in thehouse. In the afternoon Mr. Grant went up to Hudson, where he had leftBertha and Fanny. When he had gone, the reformed girl paid a visit toBen the boatman, still confined to his bed with the rheumatism. Shesurprised him by offering to read to him from the Bible--an offer whichhe gladly accepted.
The next day she went to school, carrying a note to the teacher, whichMr. Grant had written for her. She expected to be reproached andreproved here, but the teacher did not allude to her past conduct,prompted in this course by the note; her companions were astonished andawed by her quiet dignity, and even Kate Magner said less than mighthave been expected. Fanny told her what had happened after theseparation at Pennville, and solemnly assured her that she intendedalways to be a good girl in the future.
Fanny spent Saturday afternoon with Ben, seated by his bedside tilldark, reading and singing to him, giving him his medicine, andsupplying all his wants. She told him the story of her wanderings inNew York, of the death and the funeral of Jenny, all of which thekindness and tenderness of Fanny to himself made real. He commended hergood resolutions, and hoped that, in her new home in the West, shewould be able to carry them out.
On Monday the family returned from Hudson, and Fanny repeated her storyto Bertha and her sister. They were moved to tears by her narrative. Ithad seemed to them that nothing short of a miracle could reform thewayward girl; but the miracle had been wrought, as was fully provedduring the remainder of Fanny's stay at Woodville. It did not seempossible that the gentle and obliging girl, who was a blessing to allin the house, had ever been the grief and the sorrow of her friends, athorn and a torment to all who came in contact with her.
When the time for Fanny to leave for Minnesota arrived, it was hard forthe family to part with her. Miss Fanny begged that the arrangementsmight be altered; that she might be permitted to remain at Woodville,or even to go to Europe with them; but her father thought it best thatthe original plan should be carried out; he believed that it would bebetter for Fanny herself. There were many tears shed when they parted.Miss Fanny was sorry to lose her _protegee_ just as her teachings,quickened into life by her visit to the city, were beginning to beartheir fruits.
Mr. Grant had decided to attend the young traveller to her new home,for he was unwilling to trust her to the care of any chance friend whomight undertake the charge of her, fearful lest the good impressionswhich were beginning to take root in her soul might be weakened duringthe long journey. They travelled leisurely, and at the end of a weekreached Mankato, at the great bend of the Minnesota River, in thesouthern part of the state.
John Grant, Fanny's uncle, lived at a settlement near the southern lineof the state, about seventy miles from Mankato; and thither Mr. Grantand Fanny proceeded in a wagon, hired for the purpose. They were warmlywelcomed by the settlers, who seldom saw any one from the busy walks ofcivilization. Mr. Grant remained but one day, which he used mainly ininforming the future guardians of Fanny in regard to her moral, mental,and spiritual needs. He told them of the change which had come overher, and hoped they would do all they could to foster and encourage thegrowth of her good principles. When he had faithfully discharged hisduty to his late charge, he took an affectionate leave of her, anddeparted for his home, returning to Mankato in the wagon by which hehad come.
Fanny now entered upon her new life, and had an opportunity to take asurvey of her future home. The settlement consisted of about fiftypersons, most of whom had emigrated from states east of theMississippi. Among them were a few Germans, Swedes, and Norwegians. Thecountry was a perfect garden by nature, and the rich, deep soilproduced the most abundant crops. The settlement was located on one ofthose beautiful lakes for which Minnesota is distinguished, whosebright, clear waters abound in fish. The lake was eight miles inlength, with an average width of about three miles. From it flowed asmall stream, and after receiving other tributaries, discharged itswaters into the Watonwan, which in its turn entered the Minnesota.
John Grant was one of the most important persons at the settlement. Hehad cleared up a large farm on the border of the lake, and, with moremeans at the beginning than most of his neighbors, had realized a highdegree of prosperity. As he had no children of his own, he was glad tohave Fanny as a member of his family, especially since he had learnedof the improvement in her conduct.
About one third of the population of the settlement were children, anda school ha
d been established for their benefit. The instructor, Mr.Osborne, a young man, brother of one of the settlers, had lost hisright leg and his left arm by a terrible railroad accident. He was agraduate of an Ohio college, and had been engaged in preparing himselffor the ministry when the calamity occurred which rendered him unfitfor the active duties of life. From choice rather than from necessity,he remained with his brother at the settlement, being both teacher andpreacher.
Fanny immediately entered his school, and devoted herself with greatearnestness to her studies. She soon became a favorite of Mr. Osborne,who had learned a portion of her history, and felt a strong interest inher welfare. She was a good scholar, and her progress was entirelysatisfactory to her teacher.
In the home of her uncle, Fanny found, on her arrival, a boy of her ownage. His name was Ethan French; and he had come from Illinois with Mr.Grant to work on the farm. He had no parents living, and was expectedto remain with his employer till he was twenty-one. He was an uncouthfellow, and though he could read, write, and cipher, he seemed to be asuncultivated and bearish as the wild Indians that roamed through thecountry. Fanny tried to be his friend, and never neglected anopportunity to do him a kindness; but the more she tried to serve him,the more the distance between them seemed to be increased.
"I don't want nothin' to do with gals," was a favorite maxim withEthan; and Fanny found it impossible to be very sociable with him. Hedid not repel or resent her well-meant advances; but he edged off, andgot out of the way as fast as he could.
Fanny had made up her mind, before she came to her uncle's home, to becontented and happy there; and she was surprised to find that she likedher new residence very much. Her aunt was by no means the person herformer experience had taught her to believe she was. Fanny was docileand obedient, and Mrs. Grant was no longer unjust and tyrannical. Theyagreed together remarkably well, and during the short period they werepermitted to be together, no hard thoughts existed, and no harsh wordspassed between them.
Though Fanny had not been accustomed to work at Woodville, she readilyadapted herself to her new station. There were no servants at thesettlement; people did their own work; and Fanny, true to the goodprinciples she had chosen, did all she could to assist her aunt.
Let it not be supposed that Fanny had no temptations; that the new lifeupon which she had entered was free from peril and struggles. She wastempted from within and without; tempted to be unjust, unkind, wilful,and disobedient. We cannot even say that she did not sometimes yield tothose temptations; but she prayed for strength to resist them. Shelabored to be true to her high purpose. The anchor which she alwayswore on her breast frequently reminded her of her short-comings--frequentlyrecalled the memories of the dying angel who had spoken peace to hertroubled soul.
"HOPE AND HAVE," she often said to herself; and the words werea talisman to keep her in the path of duty. Continually she kept beforeher what she hoped to be, and continually she labored to attain thehigh and beautiful ideal of a true life.
She was happy in her new home, and her friends were happy in herpresence there; but not long was this happiness to continue, for eventhen was gathering in the distance the storm which was to overwhelmthem with woe and desolation. An experience of the most awful andtrying character was in store for Fanny, for which her growth in graceand goodness was the best, and indeed the only preparation.
By treaty and purchase the United States government had obtained vasttracts of the lands of the various sub-tribes of the Sioux and DakotahIndians. By the original treaty the natives had reserved for their ownuse the country on both sides of the Minnesota River, including a tractone hundred and fifty miles in length by twenty in breadth. When theSenate of the United States came to act upon the treaty, it was made acondition of the approval that this reservation should also be ceded tothe whites. The Indians assented to the condition, but no lands beingappropriated for their use, as agreed, they had moved upon thereservation, and their right to it was recognized.
A portion of this reservation was subsequently acquired by purchase,but the Indians continued to occupy the rest of it. By the varioustreaties, the Indians were paid certain sums of money every year, andsupplied with quantities of goods, such as blankets, clothing, tools,and arms. But the money was not paid, nor the goods delivered, whendue. The Indians were cheated by traders, and the debts due the latterwere taken from the money to be paid the former. The neglect of thegovernment,--fully occupied in suppressing the rebellion at theSouth,--and the immense frauds practised upon the simple natives,roused their indignation, and stirred up a hatred which culminated inthe most terrible Indian massacre recorded in the annals of ourcountry.