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.