Hugh McVey lived with Henry Shepard and his wife until he became a grown
man. After Sarah Shepard became his school teacher things began to go
better for him. The scolding of the New England woman, that had but
accentuated his awkwardness and stupidity, came to an end and life in
his adopted home became so quiet and peaceful that the boy thought of
himself as one who had come into a kind of paradise. For a time the two
older people talked of sending him to the town school, but the woman
objected. She had begun to feel so close to Hugh that he seemed a part
of her own flesh and blood and the thought of him, so huge and ungainly,
sitting in a school room with the children of the town, annoyed and
irritated her. In imagination she saw him being laughed at by other boys
and could not bear the thought. She did not like the people of the town
and did not want Hugh to associate with them.
Sarah Shepard had come from a people and a country quite different in
its aspect from that in which she now lived. Her own people, frugal New
Englanders, had come West in the year after the Civil War to take up
cut-over timber land in the southern end of the state of Michigan.
The daughter was a grown girl when her father and mother took up the
westward journey, and after they arrived at the new home, had worked
with her father in the fields. The land was covered with huge stumps
and was difficult to farm but the New Englanders were accustomed to
difficulties and were not discouraged. The land was deep and rich and
the people who had settled upon it were poor but hopeful. They felt
that every day of hard work done in clearing the land was like laying
up treasure against the future. In New England they had fought against
a hard climate and had managed to find a living on stony unproductive
soil. The milder climate and the rich deep soil of Michigan was, they
felt, full of promise. Sarah's father like most of his neighbors had
gone into debt for his land and for tools with which to clear and work
it and every year spent most of his earnings in paying interest on a
mortgage held by a banker in a nearby town, but that did not discourage
him. He whistled as he went about his work and spoke often of a future
of ease and plenty. “In a few years and when the land is cleared we'll
make money hand over fist,” he declared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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