"Och, sure, mem, and it's meself that's afther a thinking that we shall be raching good ould Ireland, from the ither side of this great Ameriky, if we kape on."

"Have patience, Biddy, we shall be there to-morrow at this time; there is nothing like keeping up good courage."

"Cabbage! mem, and it's meself has not seen a hapurth of a cabbage since we stopped the last time, to get a bit to sustain hunger, sure; I think mem, they must have rolled off, when the kitchen mirror and gridiron dhraped down," said Biddy, desirous to atone in some way for the disappearance of sundry heads of cabbage, which she had found means of disposing of, even in its unprepared state, while buried among washtubs, cheese-presses, and churns.

"Bad luck to the likes of it, indade!" and she caught at a small dining-table just in time to set it upon its legs again.

"I don't wonder Biddy complains, mother; it's enough to weary the patience of Job, riding so slowly over these dismal prairies; it would really do my eyes good to get sight of a hill, or any thing to break this continual sameness. What can father be thinking of, to take us to such a lonely, out of the way place? Never mind, Biddy, we shall have the pleasure of seeing where the sun goes to."

Thus spake the occupants of a long, covered wagon, moving westward, drawn by four stout oxen, with as many horses and cows following in the rear.

"Drive on there, Patrick," called out Mr. Santon, who was riding his own horse by their side; "drive on, we must get to the settlement by another night."

"Yes, sir, I am afther urging on the bastes for the last piece or two; but the crathurs have come so far, they don't know, sure, if they be jist laying home, or afther a raching there."

Mr. Santon had formerly been a merchant in the city of Boston; he had been doing a heavy business, and had accumulated a handsome fortune, but being one of those easy sort of persons, who think everybody as honest as themselves, he had, in an evil hour, endorsed largely for those who were worse than swindlers, who had not even as much as thanked him for his name; and he had lost nearly all in that one act. Many friends he had, who knowing his worth, had kindly offered their assistance, and would willingly have set him on his feet again, for they disliked to lose so valuable a citizen from their midst; but he, declining all assistance from those, whom he knew gave not grudgingly, thanked them with a grateful heart, and taking what little was left to him after paying his debts, had started with his wife and only child, and two servants whom he had retained, for the far West, intent upon leading a quiet, unmolested life, in the bosom of his family. Haying supplied himself with all requisite tools, etc., for tilling the ground, for which occupation he had always a great desire, they had now, after a fatiguing journey of fourteen days, arrived at the little log-house, in the western part of the state of Ohio, which was to be their future home. This was a great change for Mrs. Santon, who had spent the most of her days in the city, and had always servants to call upon for her least wish, never being obliged to lift a finger against her desire. She was one of the best of women, with a kind word for every one, and greatly did the poor, upon whom she had bestowed so many gifts of charity, lament her departure. In the church, the sewing-society, by the bedside of the suffering, and in the home of poverty, had she a place; her worth was known to all. Cheerfully did she resign all to go with her husband, to follow him, wherever it might be; with him would she be happy in their home, though it might be ever so humble. Their daughter of ten years was a sprightly, pretty child, with dark hair, and bright, black, tell-tale eyes, which looked as if they might make sad havoc, when a few more years should have added to their brilliancy. Resembling her mother in features, her disposition was like her father; free and easy in her ways, she was happy so long as every thing bent to her wishes; but her mother could not but notice with regret that her child had acquired a hasty, impatient manner, which the indulgence of her father in no way served to improve; yet she was a warm-hearted little creature, and it was with great difficulty that Mrs. Santon could bring herself to censure her. Still the mother must do her duty toward her child, and many a prayer had been offered, that she might have strength to act aright.

The long covered wagon stopped at the door of their new home just as the sun was going down.

There was but one house in sight of their little cabin, and that was, if anything, still smaller than their own; nothing was to be seen on all sides but wide prairie land, and as the little Winifred cast her eye around, she exclaimed:

"O! mother, what shall we do here? I am sure I shall not like to stay; there is no one here."

"You forget that God is here, my child," said the mother; and she commenced assisting Biddy in setting up some few articles that would make them comfortable through the night, while her husband, with Pat, attended to the out-door affairs.

"Och, and sure, mem," said Biddy, as she put her emerald head in at the door of the cabin; "faith, and it's not yesilf, mem, that's going to rest in the same room with the likes of me."

"Yes, Biddy, I see no other way; we shall have to get used to western life. I think, by partitioning off one corner, here, with blankets, we shall get along very well; and then it will be right handy for you in the morning to get the breakfast; you will not have the trouble of coming down stairs."

"Yes, mem, yese makes everything so asy like! but it's such strange times for yese, mem!" and Biddy went flying about the room, her face glowing with excitement, pulling at every uneven log in the house, fully persuaded there must be some other apartment, if no more than a closet; and as she caught at a loose board, which only separated them from the open air, she looked through, delighted that she had discovered another room, and that her mistress would not now be obliged to share the same apartment with herself; for as the remembrance of certain devotional exercises to be gone through, over each bead in her rosary, came to her, she had her doubts if the "blissed St. Pathrick," (who, for reasons best known to herself, was her favorite saint), would condescend to listen to petitions offered from such near proximity to the unbelieving Protestants; not that she thought her mistress was not a most excellent woman, but she was a Protestant, and often had she called upon the blissid St. Patrick, to "bring her dear lady over to the thrue faith." As she bent down to look into the opening, congratulating herself upon the discovery, a large cat darted through, full into her face, and ran with speed out at the door.

"Och, murther! and may the good saints presarve us alive! What will become of us at all?" and in her fright she went headlong into a pile of milk-pans, her unwieldy arms making certain involuntary revolutions, causing the air to resound with a chorus, which might have done credit to the first callithumpian in the land.

"Ho! what is all this?" cried Mr. Santon, who had stepped in at the commencement of the prelude; "what are you looking for under those pans, Biddy?"

"Sure, sir, and it's mesilf that's afther being exterpretated intirely! The varmints! faith, there was a dozen, sir, came scratching at me;" and she pointed at the aperture, as if in dread expectation of seeing their ghosts in pursuit; but lo! instead, there was the full, round face of Pat, who, having been left to take up his night's lodging with the creatures, in the apology for a barn, had espied the light, and not being able to resist the temptation of getting one more glimpse at the "swate Biddy," he had ventured to look in, and catching a glimpse of her woebegone face from among the shining tins, he exclaimed:

"Och, honey dear, and has it come to this? that yese obliged to make yese bed of the likes of that! And if ye'll wait a bit it's mesilf that'll run and fetch some of the nate, saft sthraw, that ye can fill the tins, and 'twill do ye betther; indade, and it's none but a hathen that could endure the likes of that!"

"Ah! Pathrick, is it ye? and was ye pint up in there wid the crathurs?"

"Yes, it's mesilf that will be risting with the bastes, the night," said Pat, thinking she had alluded to the creatures in the barn; "and I'll be wishing ye swate dhrames, and a plinty' of thim;" saying which he disappeared, leaving the trembling Biddy in great anxiety of mind as to what should be his fate.

As the little Winnie peeped out from behind the screen, when they had all retired, and saw Biddy counting her beads, with her eye still fixed upon the spot where she had last seen the smiling Patrick, she laughed outright, in spite of the crevices in the roof overhead, and she laid her down and looked up at the stars which came twinkling in upon her, 'till those great black eyes gradually diminished in size, and her little brain was busily engaged among the familiar scenes of the home which she had left so far away.

Cautiously did Biddy, with the first dawn of day, advance toward where she had dreamed her poor "Pathrick" was in close contact with the veritable bastes, and the family was awakened from their slumbers by her loud tones, lamenting that "niver a vistage of Pathrick, the cats, or the ante-room was left," for on looking out, the only object which met her gaze was the sun, which was just coming up in the east.

"What's the time, Biddy?" asked Mrs. Santon.

"And it's jist about three hours afther sunrise, mem."

"I think you must be mistaken, Biddy; we cannot surely have been sleeping so long after our usual time for rising."

"Indade, and the sun bes jist coming in sight, and it must have been a powerful time travelling over, sure. I'm thinking they must be afther dhrying their takettles a long time, back there in ould Boston."

Time passed on, and our adventurers were becoming more and more accustomed to western life. Mr. Santon had found his lands to be in a very good state of cultivation, the former owner having been a Dutchman, who thoroughly understood what a good farm ought to be. Mrs. Santon had proved herself to be one of the best of housekeepers, and greatly did she pride herself on her abilities for filling the station of a farmer's wife. As they sat down of an evening, to their meal of bacon and Indian cakes, and contrasted their present circumstances with what had been their former situation in life, they could not repress a smile at the change; but they were happy, contented in their humble home, and the bread which had been earned by the sweat of the brow was sweeter, the social enjoyments dearer, than when in fashionable life they had been obliged to live with an eye to the customs of society; even Winnie had found some attractions in their little western home. The neighbors comprising those who lived for twenty miles around, the nearest being a mile distant, were pleasant, light-hearted people, and the civilities which were shown to the new comers were without end.

A small log-house, unlike the others of the settlement in its exterior, inasmuch as it was honored with an additional door, served as their place of worship; and it was with great joy that Winnie looked forward to Sunday morning, when, mounted upon her pony, she might ride off for six miles to the church, accompanied by her father and mother, each riding their respective horses. Arrived at the church, they dismounted at the great horseblock, leaving their hats and mantles thereon, as was the custom; and it was a pretty sight to see the ladies walking into church, their cheeks glowing with exercise, and the fresh, morning air. As Winnie entered, her long curls composing themselves after a frolic with the breeze, many a sly glance was aimed at her from the neighboring pews, in spite of the consciences of their owners reminding them that it was holy day. It was a source of great comfort to Mrs. Santon, that she as able to come so far to this place of worship. The little society numbered not over forty persons, yet those words spoken by our Saviour, "where two or three are gathered together in my name, there will I be in the midst of them," came with renewed freshness to her mind, each time she entered those doors, and she felt that she had never tasted the bliss of uninterrupted love for Christ, as now.

The shepherd of this little flock was a man fearing God, just, and upright; his services in the cause of Christ were offered voluntarily, without money, or price. Coming, as he had, in his old age, to spend the remainder of his days in the family of a beloved son, he had found with joy that his declining years might be profitably employed; that he might earn that reward which is promised to those who make a right use of the talents which God has given them; that he might merit those blessed words, "well done, good and faithful servant." His labors among this people had not proved ineffectual; many had been brought to see the great mercies of their Redeemer, souls had been converted to Christ, and as the song of praise went up from beneath that humble roof, the glad shouts were borne aloft, and angels joined in the chorus.

It was a beautiful afternoon, everybody was busy about the farm of Mr. Santon; Winnie was sitting at the door, intent upon her own thoughts, when she caught sight of their good minister approaching upon his horse, his silver locks flying in the wind. Biddy, learning they were to have a visit from the "Protestant praste," turned first pale, then red, and when the old gentleman dismounted at the door, she let fall the shoulder of bacon, which she was preparing for the supper, and darted behind the screen, in her haste hitting her foot against the lowest tin, in a pile of two dozen, which brought the rest down to inquire into the state of affairs.

The presence of the old gentleman served to impart a cheerfulness to all who gazed upon his happy countenance, and his kind tones, as he inquired for the welfare of the family, penetrated the screen, reaching the ear of Biddy, who sat wondering what the good father Teely would say, if he knew she had so far sinned as to remain under the same roof with a "wicked Protestant praste;" but as she heard him speaking to Pat, who had come in of an errand, with such a pleasant voice, she ventured a peep out, and the form of her thoughts just at that moment, might have been a little, a very little, savoring of heresy. Suffice it to say, when the old gentleman took his departure, there was a peculiar twinkle in Biddy's eye, and she had so far overcome her aversion to the "imposther" as to have had a few private words with him, which had by no means decreased her usual flow of good spirits. It was evident that Biddy "had on her high heels," for the rest of that evening. As Winnie strolled over the farm, enjoying the evening breeze, reflecting upon her good pastor's words, her attention was suddenly attracted toward the enclosure where the cows were being milked, by hearing the voice of Biddy, who, as she "stripped" the patient animal again, for the dozenth time, was very much engaged with Pat, whose round, smiling face, as he glanced at her from the opposite side of the creature, shone with delight; and as the white foam rose higher and higher in Biddy's pail, so did the warmth of her feelings get the better of her, and those tell-tale eyes of Winnie's danced with mischief, as she overheard the following conversation:

"Ah, Pathrick dear, does ye think there is the laste sin in it? And indade, it's mesilf that's thinking the blissid St. Pathrick would be afther misthaking him for a good Catholic!"

"And what did he say, honey dear? did he think he could be afther comforting the likes of us?"

"Thrath, and he did; it was himsilf that said niver a word when I was spaking to him about it, but was afther showering a blissing upon us, the dear sowl!"

"But what will the praste say? Biddy, sure he'll be very angry, intirely."

"Faith, and it's no longer ago than the day afther yesterday, that the misthress was saying if we confissed our sins with a right spirit, we should be afther being forgiven; and now, Pathrick, I'm thinking we 'll be afther getting married, and then there will be a plinty of time for confissing."

"Och, honey, and that's the thruth for ye," said the assenting Pat, and together they walked towards the cabin.

Winnie, putting that and that together, made up her mind that Patrick and Biddy had become tired of a life of single blessedness, and were seriously contemplating matrimony, which was, indeed the case; and Biddy, having made known her desires to her mistress, who saw no just cause why they should not be bound together in the holy bands of wedlock, the next Wednesday was set apart when Patrick and Biddy would be made husband and wife.

The day arrived, and Biddy, arrayed in her best snuff-color, with ribbons and laces to match, stood up with him of her choice, to pronounce those vows which should make them one, even though the ceremony should be performed by a Protestant.

"Will you take this woman to be your wedded wife?" spake the reverend gentleman, in a clear, distinct tone.

"Ah! kape on, kape on!" shouted the enraptured Pat; "don't be throublin yesilf with questions; dear knows it's mesilf that's in it;" and his smiling face was mirrored in numerous brass buttons, which were hanging around his buff vest.

As soon as the old gentleman could get his voice again, for the boisterous joy of Pat, be turned to the trembling Biddy.

"Do you take this man to be your lawful husband, and leaving all others, will you cleave unto him alone?"

"Indade, your Riverence!" exclaimed Biddy, "I'll be afther claving him all the days of me life! It's not mesilf, sure, that was always born and reared in the great city of Cork, that'll be doing things by halves!" and in her happiness she caught Pat around the neck, giving him a smack, which might have been attributed to the opening of the bottle of whiskey with which Mr. Santon had graced the occasion, had it not been for those great eyes of Winnie, which would discover the accident, in spite of their mistress's endeavors to direct their attention elsewhere.

And now Patrick and Biddy were husband and wife. Never was there a more devoted couple; the days glided pleasantly on, Biddy keeping time in her endeavors to please her mistress with the joys of her heart; everything went on cheerfully, not a note of discontent was heard, except that the little Winnie would sometimes break into sighing for the pleasures of her early home. Nothing occurred to disturb the quietude of this home in the West, until early in the ensuing Fall, when Mrs. Santon was taken with a violent attack of Western fever, which threatening to undermine her health, Mr. Santon was fearful lest they should be obliged to return East; but the fever leaving her, she was again able to attend to her duties, with only an occasional "shake," and the discussion as to their return was for the present discontinued.