In
a bright summer morning in early summer, it was delectable to hear
their cheerful notes as they sported about in the pure, sweet air,
chirping forth, as it were, the greatness and prosperity of the
Webbers.
Thus quietly and comfortably did this excellent family vegetate
under the shade of a mighty buttonwood tree, which by little and
little grew so great as entirely to overshadow their palace. The
city gradually spread its suburbs round their domain. Houses
sprang up to interrupt their prospects. The rural lanes in the
vicinity began to grow into the bustle and populousness of streets;
in short, with all the habits of rustic life they began to find
themselves the inhabitants of a city. Still, however, they
maintained their hereditary character and hereditary possessions,
with all the tenacity of petty German princes in the midst of the
empire. Wolfert was the last of the line, and succeeded to the
patriarchal bench at the door, under the family tree, and swayed
the scepter of his fathers,--a kind of rural potentate in the midst
of the metropolis.
To share the cares and sweets of sovereignty he had taken unto
himself a helpmate, one of that excellent kind called "stirring
women"; that is to say, she was one of those notable little
housewives who are always busy where there is nothing to do.
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