But after that, no trace in wood or field was discovered to clear up the painful mystery. The people settled down into the belief that a panther had taken him, and after he had carried him that distance, on the way to his dark lair in the forest, the hat fell from his drooping head, and the loose leaves settled partly over it, and concealed it from view on the first day's search. The parents of the child, and all his friends, except Mother Fabens, were forced at last to the dreadful conclusion which assured them their little fondling was no more; and their grief was deep and lasting. And Mother Fabens grieved sadly with the others; but the impression of her dream still whispered hope to her soul; and the liberation of the fawn she had never forgotten. And when she sickened and died a few months after, she said "it was more than possible that Matthew and Julia might live long enough to see Clinton alive again on earth." But her kindly-attempted consolations could rally their hopes no more. It was a thought that wrung their desolate hearts; but they were forced to regard their lost boy as having perished in the grasp of some wild beast. And that was the grief of griefs. With all the faith and hope they could command, it shook them and bowed them down, and all the bright world for a while looked dreary and sad on their account. It gave them ghastly dreams. It burdened their waking reveries. It wailed in the winds, it wound the sunbeams, flowers and trees with weeds of melancholy wo. [Transcriber's note: woe?] In the darkest day, however, their faith and hope did not quite desert them; and after the first heavy stroke, these Christian graces rose up and strengthened them; and never were comforts so sweet as those received from the Scriptures and from their religious trusts. "God is good," said Fabens. "He may give us trials and griefs--and we have had a portion. He may tear our beloved from us when least of all it may seem we can spare them. His Providence may appear in the storm and tempest; in anguish, bereavement and death; still he is good, and he will bring good out of evil." X. THE SUGAR PARTY. Time went on its course like the constant roll of waters, and seasons came and went as usual in the Waldron Settlement. A deep and early snow having fallen, and remained with frequent additions, a long and rigorous winter reigned in absolute sway. But now, on the last of February, the sun wheeled high on his circuits; thaws and rains ensued, and the first robin on the leafless maple sang, sweet harbinger of spring. Winter recalled his tyrant ministers, or restrained them in their wrath; and milder days and warmer skies appeared in pleasant alternation, with many still of tempest and gloom.