ich I had noticed on my
first approach to it, when the ground and the trees were decked with
the luxuriance and vivacity of summer, was mournful, and seemed to
foretoken ill. My spirits drooped as I noticed the general inactivity
and silence.

I entered, without warning, the door that led into the parlour. No face
was to be seen or voice heard. The chimney was ornamented, as in summer,
with evergreen shrubs. Though it was now the second month of frost and
snow, fire did not appear to have been lately kindled on this hearth.

This was a circumstance from which nothing good could be deduced. Had
there been those to share its comforts who had shared them on former
years, this was the place and hour at which they commonly assembled. A
door on one side led, through a narrow entry, into the kitchen. I opened
this door, and passed towards the kitchen.

No one was there but an old man, squatted in the chimney-corner. His
face, though wrinkled, denoted undecayed health and an unbending spirit.
A homespun coat, leathern breeches wrinkled with age, and blue yarn
hose, were well suited to his lean and shrivelled form. On his right
knee was a wooden bowl, which he had just replenished from a pipkin of
hasty pudding still smoking on the coals; and in his left hand a spoon,
which he had, at that moment, plunged into a bottle of molasses that
stood beside him.

This action was suspended by my entrance. He looked up and exclaimed,
"Heyday! who's this that comes into other people's houses without so
much as saying 'by your leave'? What's thee business? Who's thee want?"

I had never seen this personage before. I supposed it to be some new
domestic, and inquired for Mr. Hadwin.

"Ah!" replied he, with a sigh, "William Hadwin. Is it him thee wants?
Poor man! He is gone to rest many days since."

My heart sunk within me at these tidings. "Dead!" said I; "do you mean
that he is dead?"--This exclamation was uttered in a tone of some
vehemence. It attracted the attention of some one who was standing
without, who immediately entered the kitchen. It was Eliza Hadwin. The
moment she beheld me she shrieked aloud, and, rushing into my arms,
fainted away.

The old man dropped his bowl; and, starting from his seat, stared
alternately at me and at the breathless girl. My emotion, made up of
joy, and sorrow, and surprise, rendered me for a moment powerless as
she. At length he said, "I understand this. I know who thee is, and will
tell her th