Not content, however, with the contemplation of animated nature, I began to entertain a fancy, which almost grew into a passion, for explaining
The ordinary plants of that country differ very much from those most frequent here; and this thirst for herbalizing, for I must dignify my humble researches with the name of botanical ones,) was a pleasing occupation. I made some progress in discovering the names and natures of these plants, I mean their properties; but unfortunately they were only Indian or Dutch names. This kind of knowledge, in that degree, is easily acquired there, because every one possesses it in some measure. Nothing surprised me so much, when I came to Britain, as to see young people so incurious about nature.
The woods behind our dwelling had been thinned to procure firing, and were more open and accessible than such places generally are. Walking one fine summer’s evening, with my usual attendant, a little further into the wood than usual, but far from any known inhabitant, I heard peals of laughter, not joyous only, but triumphant, issue from the bottom, as it seemed, of a large pine. Silence succeeded, and we looked at each other with a mixture of fear and wonder, for it grew darkish. At last we made a whispered agreement to glide nearer among the bushes, and explore the source of all this merriment. Twilight, solemn every where, is awful in these forests; our awe was presently increased by the appearance of a light that glimmered and disappeared by turns. Loud laughter was again reiterated, and at length a voice cried, “How pretty he is!” while another answered in softer accents, “See how the dear creature runs!” We crept on, cheered by these sounds, and saw a handsome good natured looking man, in a ragged provincial uniform, sitting on the stump of a tree. Opposite, on the ground, sat a pretty little brunette woman, neatly, though meanly clad, with sparkling black eyes, and a countenance all vivacity and delight. A very little, very fair boy, with his mother’s brilliant black eyes contrasting his flaxen hair, and soft infantine complexion, went with tottering steps, that showed this was his first essay, from one to the other, and loud laughter gratulated his safe arrival in the arms of either parent. We had now pretty clearly ascertained the family, the next thing was to discover the house; this point was more difficult to establish; at last, we found it was barely a place to sleep in, partly excavated from the ground, and partly covered with a slight roof of bark and branches: never was poverty so complete or so cheerful. In that country, every white person had inferiors, and therefore being merely white, claimed a degree of respect, and being very rich, or very fine, entitled you to very little more. Simplicity would be a charming thing, if one could strain it from grossness, but that, I believe, is no easy operation. We now with much consideration and civility, presented ourselves; I thought the cows would afford a happy opening for conversation. “Don’t be afraid of noise, we are driving our three cows home; have you any cows?” “Och no, my dare child, not one, young miss,” said the soldier. “O, but then mamma will give milk to the child, for we have plenty, and no child.” “O dear, pretty miss, don’t mind that at all, at all.” “Come,” said the mistress of the hovel, “we have got fine buttermilk here from Stephen’s; come in and take a drink.” I civilly declined this invitation, being wholly intent on the child, who appeared to me like a smiling love, and at once seized on my affection. Patrick Coonie, for such was the name of our new neighbour, gave us his history in a very few words. He had married Kate in Pennsylvania, who, young as she looked, had three children, from ten to fourteen, or thereabouts; he had some trade which had not thriven, he listed in the provincials, spent what he had on his family, hired again, served another campaign, came down pennyless, and here they had come for a temporary shelter, to get work among their neighbours. The excavation existed before, Patrick happily discovered it, and added the ingenious roof which now covered it. I asked for their other children—they were in some mean service. I was all anxiety for Patrick, so was not he; the lilies of the field did not look gayer, or more thoughtless of to-morrow, and Kate seemed equally unconcerned.