Part 6 (1/2)
The conversation, part of which I have given to my readers, took place upon one of these visits. One of the parties present on this occasion deserves more than a pa.s.sing notice, as she was an uncommon character.
Deborah Donaldson, or, as she was always called, ”Aunt Debie,”
was, ”after the strictest sect of her religion,” a Quaker, and she never quite forgave James and Martha Gurney for leaving the Church of their fathers. She had been a widow for more than thirty years, her husband having been killed by the falling of a limb from a tree which he was chopping down, and she had been blind and deaf for the greater part of that time.
She had been a woman of very great energy, and there were some who hinted that she was the controlling member of the matrimonial firm when the now lamented Donaldson was living. Whether there was any truth or not in that report it is not for the writer to say, but she was certainly a woman of great force of character--a living embodiment of the Scripture maxim, ”Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might.” And even now, in extreme old age-- for she was more than four score--though in many ways she manifested she had entered her second childhood, she yet retained a great deal of her original energy. As I have ill.u.s.trated, though she possessed genuine piety, it was so mingled with superst.i.tion as to leave it difficult to decide which exerted the controlling influence.
If any of my readers have a.s.sociated to any extent with the people in the rural districts, especially those of American or Dutch-American descent, they, no doubt, have observed that a great many of the older and more illiterate ones among them are very superst.i.tious, being implicit believers in signs, charms, apparitions, etc.; and most of them, also, entertain the opinion that the moon exerts an occult influence over many things of vital importance to the residents of this mundane sphere; and no power that could be brought to bear could induce some of them to plant corn, make soap, kill pigs, or perform many other important duties in certain phases of the moon, for they would be positive if they did it would result in dire disaster.
There are also sounds and signs which are looked upon as warnings of coming woe; for instance: three knocks in the still hours of the night are considered a ”death call,” and when heard by them they expect soon to learn of the decease of a friend. Dreams are the certain presages of coming events--of prosperity and happiness, of sorrow, disease, and death.
Now, Aunt Debie and her friends were firm believers in these things, and the former was looked upon as one who was favored with receiving more signs, seeing more visions, and dreaming more dreams, than any person in that section of country. She was also viewed by her friends as an oracle, in interpreting these signs; and she, having no doubt in regard to her own endowments, accepted in perfect faith their eulogium of her power in this respect.
Another present at the time to which we refer was a sister of Aunt Debie's, some ten years younger than herself, Phoebe Barrett by name. She was attended by her husband, whom she addressed as Enoch. He certainly was not the predominant spirit of the family; for he was so quiet and un.o.btrusive as to scarcely ever utter a word, except it might be to make a remark in regard to the weather or answer a question. There was also a young Quakeress by the name of Rachel Stebbins, a distant relative of the others, and they were all related to Mr. and Mrs. Gurney.
”Did thee have any peculiar dreams lately, Aunt Debie?” asked Rachel Stebbins. ”I had a perfectly awful one the other night.”
”Doo tell. What was it, Rachel?” said Aunt Debie.
”I dreamt,” continued Rachel, ”that I was standing by an open grave; and it appeared to me, jest before they lowered the coffin into it, they took the lid off from the coffin, and in it was the corpse of a young girl, white as chalk, but she appeared as if she must have been very pretty when she was living. There were orange blossoms on her bosom and also in her hair. The features 'peared familiar, but I could not, for the life of me, make out who she was, nor can I yet, though I see her ghastly face ever before me, and think I shall thus see it until the day I die. And what 'pears to me as singular is, that I saw every one that is here now there, and a great many more of our relatives and friends, and all were weeping as if she were some one very near and dear to them. Now, what does thee make of that dream?”
”What did thee eat before thee went to bed, Rachel?” asked Mr.
Gurney, who came into the room while she was relating her dream.
He was by nature inclined to be reserved, but yet possessed a fund of quiet humor, and he delighted to quiz Aunt Debie and her Quaker friends in respect to their superst.i.tious fancies. But Aunt Debie could not look upon this levity with any degree of allowance, in fact, she viewed it as little else than profanity. ”Did thee eat mince pie, dough nuts, or plum cake? If thee did, thee must be more careful in thy diet, or thee may dream something even more terrible the next time.”
Rachel Stebbins repeated to Aunt Debie what Mr. Gurney had said, which so roused the old lady that she said to him, with considerable asperity in the tone of her voice:
”I know thee always laughs at these things, James; but thee may be convinced some day in a manner that thee will not like, and then thee will be sorry that thee made so light of it.”
And then addressing Rachel, she said, in answer to her question: ”Well, Rachel, when I dream of a death I always expects to hear of a wedding. I have never known it to fail. And thee will see that some friend of ours will be getting married soon, and then thee will wonder how strangely contrary these kinds of dreams is. Why, before Jonas Head was married to Prudence Leggit, I seed him laid out in his shroud as plainly as I used to see thee; and a short time after that I hearn that he was married. Now, thee just watch if this dream don't end in the same way.”
”But, Debie,” said Phoebe, ”thee was telling me the other day about dreaming of Charles Dalton walking through the cornfield.
Will thee tell it to us now?”
This was a request that would yield a great amount of satisfaction to Aunt Debie, for she was always delighted to be asked to relate her dreams and the warnings she received of coming woe. Phoebe, of course, was well aware of this, and it was partially because of it that she asked the question; but the strongest motive power that moved her was that she herself was a strong believer in the supernatural. And though men will not acknowledge it, or rarely do so, nevertheless all are more or less influenced by a certain undefined and shadowy belief in the supernatural, even in this grosser shape; and I believe most have a desire, though mixed with a strange dread, to listen to its relation.
”Well,” began Aunt Debie, responding to Phoebe's request, ”I dreamt I saw before me a field of waving corn. It was nearly ready to cut, and the wind moaned through it, as it bent and shook before it, and the ta.s.sels glinted in the moonlight like ghosts keeping watch. And then there seemed to be something gliding through the corn; at first it was nothing but a shadow, but after a little it 'peared more plain, and at last I could see the features--it was the face of Charles Dalton. And then way down at the other end of the field I could see men, though not very plain, but just like shadows, and they were cutting the corn. I tell thee there is going to be some terrible trouble come to him ere long, and before many years he will die.”
Just after Phoebe had asked the question, Ruth Ashton came in and was introduced to the company, with the exception of Aunt Debie, Mrs. Gurney explaining that the latter was blind and deaf, and telling Mrs. Ashton she would introduce her to the old lady when she had finished relating and explaining her dream.
Mrs. Ashton had been invited to spend the afternoon with them, and had accepted the invitation.
After Aunt Debie had finished relating her dream and giving her interpretations of its meaning, Mr. Gurney moved his chair over near her and asked: ”Were you talking and thinking of Charles Dalton, and of his unfortunate drinking habits, also of his being nearly drowned, before you went to bed the night you dreamed that dream?”
”Ye-s,” said Aunt Debie, ”I--was.” She made the admission very reluctantly; for she immediately saw the inference Mr. Gurney wished to draw.
”And did thee not eat plum cake and cheese just before retiring?”
He knew the old lady was very partial to the edibles he mentioned, and suspected that because she had yielded to her weakness she had been disturbed by dreams.