noon
what a pity ! what a pity ! '' the little log mill still went on saying to the little log fort , and making the little log fort yet sadder and lonesomer than had it held its peace , and not tried so hard to play the comforter . From noon to noon , with a dreary night between , hour after hour passed heavily , wearily by . And there , at the door of her desolate home , still sat the widowed mother , waiting and watching , her eyes turned ever toward the perilous north -- waiting and watching as only those can wait and watch whose hearts are telling them that any hour may bring them the tidings that all they hold most dear on earth is lost to them forever . In homely kindness and sympathy her neighbors strove to comfort her , and rouse her from the lethargy of grief into which she seemed to be sinking . They forgot how little mere words of condolence , however tender and pitying , can avail , until the stricken heart , having taken in its full measure of sorrow , can begin to accommodate itself to the new presence , and be brought once more to feel that although much is lost still more remains for gratitude and peace .