After a few years of this profitless drudgery, my father bought an old run-down farm with dilapidated buildings in the neighboring town of R----, mortgaging all, and our souls and bodies besides, for its payment. We hoped we had rounded the cape of storms which sooner or later looms up before every ship which sails the sea of life, for we had fully realized the truth of the poem-- We may steer our boats by the compass, Or may follow the northern star; We may carry a chart on shipboard As we sail o'er the seas afar; But, whether by star or by compass We may guide our boats on our way, The grim cape of storms is before us, And we'll see it ahead some day. How the prow may point is no matter, Nor of what the cargo may be, If we sail on the northern ocean, Or away on the southern sea; It matters not who is the pilot, To what guidance our course conforms; No vessel sails o'er the sea of life But must pass the cape of storms. Sometimes we can first sight the headland On the distant horizon's rim; We enter the dangerous waters With our vessels taut and trim; But often the cape in its grimness Will before us suddenly rise, Because of the clouds that have hid it Or the blinding sun in our eyes. Our souls will be caught in the waters That are hurled at the storm cape's face; Our pleasures and joys, our hopes and fears, Will join in the maddening race. Our prayers, desires, our penitent griefs, Our longings and passionate pain, Be dashed to spray on the stormy cape And fly in our faces like rain. But there's always hope for the sailor, There is ever a passage through; No life goes down at the cape of storms, If the life and the heart lie true. If in purpose the soul is steadfast, If faithful in mind and in will, The boat will glide to the other side, Where the ocean of life is still. [Illustration: "It was a Fair Scene of Tranquillity."] CHAPTER III. NEAR TO NATURE'S HEART. It seems but yesterday, although more than a half century ago, that I, a puny boy, stood on the hilltop and looked for the first time upon this, the earliest home of which I have any vivid recollection. It was a fair scene of rustic tranquillity, where a contented mind might delight to spend a lifetime mid hum of bees and low of kine.