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Fuller, S. M. (Sarah Margaret), 1810-1850

"Summer on the Lakes, in 1843"


In the inner room the master of the house was seated; he had been
sitting there long, for he had injured his foot on ship-board, and his
farming had to be done by proxy. His beautiful young wife was his only
attendant and nurse, as well as a farm housekeeper; how well she
performed hard and unaccustomed duties, the objects of her care shewed;
everything that belonged to the house was rude but neatly arranged; the
invalid, confined to an uneasy wooden chair, (they had not been able to
induce any one to bring them an easy chair from the town,) looked as
neat and elegant as if he had been dressed by the valet of a duke. He
was of northern blood, with clear full blue eyes, calm features, a
tempering of the soldier, scholar, and man of the world, in his aspect;
whether that various intercourses had given himself that thorough-bred
look never seen in Americans, or that it was inherited from a race who
had known all these disciplines. He formed a great but pleasing contrast
to his wife, whose glowing complexion and dark mellow eye bespoke an
origin in some climate more familiar with the sun. He looked as if he
could sit there a great while patiently, and live on his own mind,
biding his time; she, as if she could bear anything for affection's
sake, but would feel the weight of each moment as it passed.
Seeing the album full of drawings and verses which bespoke the circle of
elegant and affectionate intercourse they had left, behind, we could not
but see that the young wife sometimes must need a sister, the husband a
companion, and both must often miss that electricity which sparkles from
the chain of congenial minds.


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