Chapter III.
"This is most strange: your father's in some passion
That works him strongly."
Tempest.
A few hours made a great change in the occupations of the different
members of our simple and secluded family. The kine had yielded their
nightly tribute; the oxen had been released from the yoke, and were now
secure beneath their sheds; the sheep were in their folds, safe from the
assaults of the prowling wolf; and care had been taken to see that every
thing possessing life was gathered within the particular defences that
were provided for its security and comfort. But while all this caution was
used in behalf of living things, the utmost indifference prevailed on the
subject of that species of movable property, which, elsewhere, would have
been guarded with, at least, an equal jealousy. The homely fabrics of the
looms of Ruth lay on their bleaching-ground, to drink in the night-dew;
and plows, harrows, carts, saddles, and other similar articles, were left
in situations so exposed, as to prove that the hand of man had occupations
so numerous and so urgent, as to render it inconvenient to bestow labor
where it was not considered absolutely necessary.
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