_Lorenzo_.--Go in, Sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner.
_Launcelot_.--That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.
_Lorenzo_.--Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then
bid them prepare dinner.
_Launcelot_.--That is done too, sir.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
The high square, pews of the little Congregational church, or (as in
those days the descendants of the Puritans, in order to manifest
their abhorrence for popery, and all that in their judgment sounded
papistical, loved to call their places for public worship) the
"meeting-house," were tolerably well filled by an attentive
congregation on Thanksgiving morning. We say only tolerably, some
seats being vacant, which seldom of a Sunday missed of occupants. The
rights of hospitality were allowed on this occasion to trench upon the
duties of public worship, and many a good wife with the servants, whom
no common storm or slight indisposition would have kept away, remained
at home to spread the board for expected guests. If there were some
whose stern principles condemned the practice as a carnality, they
were a small minority. Those whose fleshly appetites were to be
gratified by it took a different view of the subject very generally;
and as this was the condition of pretty much the whole community,
whose members figured now as hosts and now as guests, the verdict was
nearly unanimous in its favor. In truth, the due observance of the
day seemed to consist of two parts, worship and feasting; each was
necessary to the other to form a complement, and without both it would
have been jejune and unsatisfactory. Besides, this was the annual
period for the reunion of friends and relatives, parted for the
rest of the year, and in some instances considerable journeys were
undertaken in order once more to unite the severed circle and gather
again around the beloved board. Fathers and mothers, with smiles of
welcome, kissed their returned children; brothers and sisters joined
cordial hands and rushed into each other's embraces, and the placid
grandparents danced the little ones on their knees, and traced
resemblances to others. It would have been a cold and inhospitable
greeting, to be invited, after listening to a two hours' sermon, to
sit around a dinner not beyond the common. Not to such a feast did
stout-hearted and hard-headed Jonathan invite his friends. He rightly
understood that there was a carnal and a spiritual man, nor was he
disposed to neglect the claims of either. The earth was given to the
saints "with the fullness thereof," and he meant to have his portion.
Therefore it was that while one part of the family went to "meeting"
to pray, the other remained at home to--cook. Thus, by a judicious
division of duties the honored day was celebrated with befitting rites
and ceremonies.
After waiting for a reasonable time, until all who were expected to
attend were supposed to be in the house, the minister rose from his
seat, in the high, wine-glass shaped pulpit, over which hung, like the
sword of Damocles, by a cord, an immense sounding-board, considered
indispensable, duly to scatter round that each might have his
appropriate portion, the crumbs of salvation he dispensed, and "gave
out" an appropriate hymn, in which the Supreme Being was acknowledged
as the Ruler of the Seasons. This was sung, it must be confessed, by a
sadly shrunken choir, stoutly supported, however, by the congregation
in the body of the meeting-house, without the sound of tabret, or
harp, or other musical instruments; for in those days not even the
flute or grave bass-viol, those pioneers of the organ, were permitted
in the Sanctuary. To the hymn succeeded a long and fervent prayer, in
which Mr. Robinson, the minister (the term Reverend had then a slight
papistical twang), after bewailing with ingenious particularity the
sins and back-slidings of himself and people, and the ingratitude
of the whole land, and recounting the innumerable blessings that had
crowned their basket and their store, entreated that notwithstanding
their manifold sins, iniquities and transgressions, the divine favor
might not be withdrawn from a land where the Lord had planted his own
vine, and where the precious seeds of heavenly grace deposited in
the soil and nurtured and cultured by men "of whom the world was not
worthy," had sprung up and borne the inestimable fruit of civil and
religious freedom. Upon the conclusion of the prayer followed another
hymn, and after these "exercises," the sermon.
The text was the ninth verse of the twenty-sixth chapter of
Deuteronomy, "And He hath brought us into this place and hath given
us this land, even a land that floweth with milk and honey." The
Thanksgiving sermon was formerly one on which more than common labor
was expended, and was intended to be a celebrity of the year. On this
occasion the preacher laid out a wide field for his eloquence. He
commenced by comparing the condition of the first colonists to that
of the children of Israel when they fled from the house of bondage. He
painted the Pilgrim fathers landing on Plymouth Rock, snow, and ice,
and desolation around, but the fire of faith in their hearts. He
contrasted the feebleness of the beginning with the grandeur of the
result, whence he deduced the inference that the Lord had led his
people with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; he alluded to the
changed appearance of the country, converted from a heathen wilderness
into a Christian garden, whence the perfume of Christian devotion
perpetually arose; he portrayed the horrors of the war of the
Revolution, and exhorted his hearers to cherish the memory of the men
who had consecrated their lives and fortunes to Liberty, and sealed
that consecration with their blood. Warming with his subject, his eyes
shone with a brighter lustre and seemed gazing into a far future, as
in prophetic tones he proclaimed the advent of the latter days, when
the beacon fires of Freedom kindled on the mountain tops of the new
Canaan should send their streaming rays across the seas, and the
kingdoms of this world should become the heritage of God and of His
Christ. "Seeing these things are so, brethren," he concluded, "seeing
that God hath chosen you unto himself for a peculiar people, the weak
things of the world to confound the strong, the rejected, the cast
away and despised, to be held up as an example to the wondering
and admiring nations, what manner of men ought ye to be in all holy
conversation and godliness?"
Such is an imperfect sketch of the remarks of Mr. Robinson. With such
language sought the ministers in times past to keep alive the flame
of patriotism, and to inspire with humility, yet animate with a just
pride. Nor are such discourses thrown away. They do much towards the
formation of a national character.
Long as was the sermon--and of not a moment of its orthodox length was
it defrauded--it was listened to with the deepest attention, by the
older members, especially, of the congregation. The grave decorum of
a place of public worship forbade any open exhibition of approval, but
more than one knit brow and lighted eye, betrayed the emotions excited
by the allusions. Let it be remembered, it was nearer the times that
tried men's souls; the later events were fresh in their memory; some
of the hearers, perhaps, had borne a personal part in them, and all
were animated by the generous fire of '76--sparks of which, we trust,
still glimmer in the bosoms of their descendants. What to us, in
these colder and as some say more worldly days, might have seemed
extravagant, if not vain-glorious, was to them sober truth; and
if there were any who, perverting into poison what was meant for
wholesome nutriment, thanked God that they were not as other men,
there were others who, without losing their humility, felt an impulse
given to the nobler feelings.
At the conclusion of the services, there was the usual grasping of
hands, and congratulations of the season, and inquiries after healths,
and encomiums on the sermon, when the assembly dispersed to their
homes, to attend, in another form, to the duties of the day. Mr.
Armstrong and Faith waited for the minister, and the three walked
home together. They were overtaken and joined by Doctor Elmer,
who expressed regret at having been detained from the services by
professional duties.
"But," added he, looking at Mr. Robinson, and bowing courteously, "if
I have been so unfortunate as to miss of one feast, I do not mean to
be deprived of another. I may say of myself, as Shakspeare says of
somebody, 'Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.'"
"I hope your Puritan principles do not consist merely in eating
Thanksgiving dinners," said Mr. Robinson, with a smile.
"And remember, doctor," observed Faith, "what your own Shakspeare says
again--
"'dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout quite the wits.'"
"My dear," interposed Mr. Armstrong, "is not this conversation of too
light a character?"
But he could not immediately check the doctor.
"Ha, Miss Faith," he cried, "'wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy
wit, in an instant? I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain
meaning.' But
'The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen.'
Come," he added, observing that Mr. Armstrong looked grave, "take my
arm, and we will discuss some serious subject, together." So saying,
he offered his arm to Faith, which she took, and they followed, at a
few steps distance, after Mr. Armstrong and the minister.
"I am afraid," said the doctor, slackening his pace, so as to allow
the others to get out of hearing, "you would prefer a certain young
gentleman's arm to that of an old bachelor. It is rather hard that the
rogues, whose principal recommendation, I flatter myself, is that they
are twenty years younger, should steal away all my sweethearts."
Faith laughed, as she replied:
"Why, dear doctor, what would you have us do? You never will propose;
so you must not complain if you drive us poor girls to desperation."
"You wicked little baggage, is this the way you laugh at the most
constant of your admirers? How many long years have I spent in your
service, from the time I began with rocking your cradle, occasionally
giving you, to sweeten your humors, a teaspoon of castor oil, or a
half-dozen drops of elixir salutis, up to the present time, and thus
you reward my devotion! I begin to feel desperate, and have half a
mind to transfer my affections to Anne Bernard."
"Do not treat me so cruelly. I assure you, my love increases every
day. Besides, you might find your perfidy punished by meeting a too
formidable rival."
"Ah, ha! I understand. Yet, I feel my chivalry a little roused at
the idea of opposition. But, on the whole, Faith, I will accept your
pledge of affection, and stick to my colors like a man and a doctor.
And, to exhibit my confidence, you may, meanwhile, flirt in moderation
with William Bernard. You will get tired of it when the novelty wears
off; so I shall escape, and it is better that you should tease him now
than me hereafter. But, dear me, here we are at your door."
Mr. Armstrong and the minister had waited for them on the step, and
the four entered together. Shortly after Pownal arrived, and somewhat
later the family of the Bernards.
We should deceive our readers if we left them to infer from the
jesting talk of the doctor that any mutual attachment existed between
Miss Armstrong and William Bernard. It was because his suspicions were
so vaguely expressed, and herself so unconscious of any feelings of
the kind, that Faith had not thought it worth while to notice them.
She and young Bernard had known each other from infancy; they had
attended the same school; the intimacy betwixt Faith and Anne, and the
friendly relations of the two families equals in wealth and station,
had brought them frequently together, but nothing could be further
from the fact than that any engagement existed between them. They
treated one another, indeed, like brother and sister; but if any
warmer emotion was felt, it was not by Faith. Her engrossing affection
for her father seemed to exclude all rivalship. The meeting exactly
expressed the footing on which the families stood. Mr. Armstrong shook
hands cordially with all, and in a few words uttered his pleasure at
welcoming them; Mrs Bernard kissed the cheek of Faith, with almost
the feeling of a mother; the greeting of the girls' was like that of
sisters, and Faith extended her hand to William Bernard, with a smile,
but without a blush.
Though utterly unlike, it would be difficult to conceive of two more
beautiful creatures than Faith Armstrong and Anne Bernard. The dark
hair of Faith, the large black eyes, the nose slightly aquiline, an
expression of countenance ordinarily composed, though not sad, but
which could be lighted up into enthusiasm, and a graceful dignity that
marked every action, while it seemed only a necessary part of herself,
forcibly reminded one sometimes of the heroines of the ancient
Scriptures. So in her youthful years, before her eyes were fully
opened to the vision, and before to the sound of the clanging timbrel
her voice responded to the triumph song of the children of Israel,
might have looked the prophetess, Miriam.
No contrast could be stronger than that presented by sweet Anne
Bernard. Light colored hair fell in graceful curls around an oval and
perfectly regular face, of the most delicate complexion. So thin, so
almost transparent was the skin, that the veins seemed hardly hidden,
and a very slight emotion was sufficient to suffuse it with a tint
that needed to fear no rivalry with the rose. No heaven could be bluer
than the soft eyes that seemed "to love whate'er they looked upon,"
and whether dimmed with the tear of pity, or flashing with mirth,
revealed a pure, but not a timid spirit. But among features which all
were beautiful, if one could be called more beautiful than another, it
was the mouth, and white as snow were the regular and perfectly formed
teeth which the crimson lips concealed. Her figure was rather below
than above the ordinary height, and its roundness indicated the
most perfect health. Let not this description be deemed a picture of
romance. Those acquainted with the beautiful daughters of New England
will acknowledge its truth, or, at least, confess, it errs not on the
side of exaggeration.
The intermediate time between the arrival of the company and the
serving up of dinner, was spent by them in such conversation as
usually takes place on occasions of the kind. Somebody has said, that
two Americans cannot meet without talking politics, but we can vouch
for the fact, that although Mr. Armstrong, the doctor, and divine were
federalists, and the Judge a democrat, having spent several of his
early years in France, where he was supposed to have imbibed his
sentiments, not a word on the subject was uttered. A reference or two
was made to the minister's discourse; the flourishing condition of the
country and its prospects adverted to; and some items of domestic
news and village anecdotes narrated. Such was the conversation of the
elders: as for what passed between the young people, we know there was
some laughing, but have forgot what they talked about. We regret this
irreparable loss, and promise to be more attentive for the future.
Al length, the ebony disc of Felix's face, rising pleasantly above a
snow-bank of neck-cloth, appeared at the door, and announced dinner,
when Mr. Armstrong offering his arm to Mrs. Bernard, preceded his
friends into the dining-room. Faith accepted the Judge's escort, and
Pownal tried to wait on Anne, but somehow or other (and we suspect her
of complicity in the affair), the divine secured the prize.
Before the company sat down, which was in an order having reference to
their supposed tastes and attractions, at a request from the host, an
appropriate grace was said by the minister, which happily avoided
the extremes of too much brevity on the one hand, and of too
great prolixity on the other; or, in other words, it was neither
irreverently short, nor impertinently long.
The dinner was of that kind which still graces the hospitable boards
of old Connecticut. At one end of the table a roasted turkey, which
had been stuffed a couple of days before, in order that the spices,
composing a part of the ingredients, might penetrate and flavor
the flesh of the noble bird, turned up his round full breast to the
carving-knife; at the other end, another turkey, somewhat smaller,
boiled and served with oyster sauce, kept company with her mate, while
near the centre, which was occupied by bleached celery in a crystal
vase, a mighty ham balanced a chicken pie of equal size. Besides these
principal dishes there were roasted and boiled fowls, and ducks, and
tongues, flanked by cranberry and apple sauces, and mashed turnips and
potatoes. On the sideboard (for be it remembered, it was "when this
old cap was new," and a practice which now is considered, at least,
questionable, was then held in all honor, and its neglect was never
dreamed of, and would have drawn down an imputation of nigardliness
and want of breeding) stood bottles of wine, and flagons containing
still stronger liquors, together with a large pitcher of delicious
cider. Upon the removal of the first course followed various kinds of
puddings, and pies, and custards, and tarts, and sillabubs, and they,
in their turn, were succeeded by apples and different sorts of nuts,
with raisins and figs, with which the repast was concluded. Such was
an old Thanksgiving dinner. The present preliminary soup was unusual
or unknown. It was an array capable of supplying the wants of a much
larger company, and but a small part could be consumed, but it was the
fashion, and it still continues. They were celebrating the bounty of
Providence, and it was meet that the liberality of man should be in
harmony with it. Felix, grave and decorous, as became the importance
of the occasion, and his assistant, multiplied themselves into a
thousand waiters, sedulous to anticipate the wants of the host and his
guests.
The conversation, which at first ran in several distinct rills being
confined to each one's immediate neighborhood mostly, and interrupted
by the serious business of dinner, seemed gradually, after a time, to
unite its various streams into one common current. The attention of
the doctor was first attracted from an unsuccessful attempt to quote
to Mrs. Bernard Shakspeare's famous recipe for cooking a beef-steak by
an observation of Mr. Robinson to Mr. Armstrong, at whose left hand
he sat, the seat at the right being occupied by Mrs. Bernard, next to
whom sat the doctor.
"The results," said the minister, "furnish, I fear, little
encouragement for the future. Unless divine grace shall manifest
itself in a more signal manner than has heretofore been vouchsafed,
they seemed destined to die in their sins."
"Is there, then, no escape from a doom so horrible?" inquired the
low voice of Mr. Armstrong. "After being hunted from their ancient
possessions, and denied even the graves of their fathers, must they
perish everlastingly?"
"Can the clay say to the potter, 'What doest thou?'" said Mr.
Robinson. "He maketh one vessel to honor and another to dishonor.
Repeated attempts have been made to civilize and Christianize them,
but in vain. Whom He will He hardeneth."
Mr. Armstrong sighed, and another sigh, so low it was unheard, stole
from the bosom of his daughter.
"You are speaking of the Indians?" inquired the doctor.
"Yes," said Mr. Robinson, "and of the failure of all attempts by
Christians to ameliorate their condition."
"And are you surprised it should be so?" inquired the doctor.
"The ways of Providence are inscrutable," replied Mr. Robinson. "I
pretend not to explain the reasons why they are deaf to the pleadings
of the Gospel."
"What," cried the doctor, slightly altering his favorite author,
"'hath not an Indian eyes? Hath not an Indian hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt
with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the
same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a
Christian is? If an Indian wrong a Christian, what is his humility?
revenge; if a Christian wrong an Indian, what should his sufferance
be, by Christian example? why, revenge.' There, you have the whole in
a nut-shell."
"In addition to the difficulty growing out of their treatment by the
whites, suggested by the doctor," said the Judge, "there is another,
which I consider insuperable, arising out of a difference of race."
"I do not quite understand you," observed Mr. Robinson.
"It is said by naturalists," answered the Judge, "that man
comprehends, within himself, the peculiarities of all inferior
animals. Now, there are some capable of domestication, while others
are irreclaimable. You may tame the horse, but not the tiger. The
wild element controls the one, and is controllable in the other. In
my opinion, this wild element so predominates in the Indian as to make
him incapable of civilization. He is the tiger."
"But some have been civilized," remarked Mr. Armstrong.
"A _quasi_ civilization, I grant," said the Judge; "and were I to
concede more, the exceptions are so few as only to confirm the rule."
"Your theory opens a wide field for speculation," said Mr. Robinson,
"and I could bring many objections to it. In the first place"----
"No doubt, no doubt," cried the Judge, hastily, and desirous to avoid
the arising collision, "and I shall be happy to examine the subject,
at some future time, with you. I throw out these ideas only as hints.
But there is another rule operative, if, indeed, it is not the same
differently expressed--the inferior must always give place to the
superior race"
"That is not clear, either," said the divine. "What race ever existed
superior to the Jews? Yet, observe their condition."
"I am not understood. Why, the Jews prove my theory. If they had not
been a superior race, they would long ago have been extinct. But their
number now is probably as great as it ever was. The Indians, however,
are vanishing."
"And, really, Mr. Bernard," said his wife, "on your own principles,
they will be no loss, if they do vanish. If a superior race succeeds,
all the better."
"Right, right, my dear," cried her husband, "_rem acu_--pshaw! I was
going to quote Latin. They have had their day, and fulfilled their
design."
"It seems to me a deplorable necessity," said Mr. Armstrong.
"There are many laws and purposes at work in the rise and fall of
nations," said the minister, "beyond our view. A peculiar mystery
hangs over the devoted tribes; and, assign what reasons we please for
their decay, there is only one satisfactory reason into which all
the others are resolvable, viz: the determination of Providence. That
determination is obvious. As the inhabitants of Canaan, were
swept away for their iniquities, so is the red race destined to be
extinguished; and it may be for a like reason--they will not abandon
their abominations."
"They are as moral as the whites, generally, I believe," said William
Bernard.
"Alas, that word morality!" exclaimed the divine. "It is an _ignis
fatuus_ to mislead--a broken reed to lean on."
"But," inquired Faith, anxiously, "do you think, sir, that nothing can
be done for those who are left?"
"I see but little prospect of it," said Mr. Robinson.
"There are some good people among them," said the doctor, warmly. "I
wish I was as sure of my own salvation as I am of poor Esther's."
This discussion scarcely disturbed the conversation between Anne
Bernard and Pownal, who, much to his delight, found himself seated by
her side. Nor did the contiguity seem displeasing to the lovely girl.
What is the charm that gives boldness to the timid, and eloquence
to the hesitating; which kindles the eye with a brighter lustre,
and imparts a softer tone to the voice: which colors the cheek with
frequent blushes, and fills the heart with unwonted flutterings? Sweet
maiden, can you tell? Yet, what could they have so much to say to
one another? They who are young, and they who have not forgotten the
feelings of youth will readily find an answer.
"My heart warms to the Indians," said Pownal, in a low tone, "whenever
I hear them spoken of. It appears to me, sometimes," continued he,
smiling, "as if I were a sort of relation. Were I a believer in the
transmigration of souls, I should think I had been, in some previous
existence, an Indian myself."
"Probably a Sachem, with your hair nicely shaved, except a little
which was caught up into a knot like a cock's comb, on top to hold an
eagle's feather," said the laughing Anne. "How elegantly you must have
looked after having made your toilette, preparatory to wooing some
Indian Princess, with your face beautifully painted in all the colors
of the rainbow, only handsomer. How I should have liked to see you.
Hard-hearted must have been the fair who could resist such charms."
"You have reason to laugh at me; it is very ridiculous, but"--
"And then to think of the sad change that has befallen you! To subside
from an eagle-feathered Sachem, eating succatash with an Indian
Princess, into a tame civilized gentleman, in a swallow-tailed coat,
handing apples to a poor little Yankee girl! I do not wonder you were
melancholy and tried to shoot yourself."
"It was the most fortunate shot I ever made, since"--
"I am not sure of that. Perhaps if you had succeeded you might have
been transmigrated back into the wigwam, and resumed your addresses to
the Princess."
"Your fancy outstrips mine. I find it hard, by the side of a real
Princess, to think of an imaginary one."
"Faithless, like all your fickle sex. Ah me, poor princess!"
Here Mrs. Bernard made a motion to rise, which was followed by the
other ladies, and as Anne turned away she said:--
"You who have set me an example of desertion can not be surprised
at my leaving you, which please to consider a punishment for the
Princess' wrongs."
"And a severe one," said Pownal.
But a short time elapsed before the ladies were rejoined by the
gentlemen in the withdrawing room, where we will leave them to look
after some other friends of ours.
Upon the conclusion of his duties, Felix had opportunity to extend the
rights of hospitality to General Ransome, who, true to his promise,
had not failed to make his appearance in due time in the kitchen.
There the worthy warrior had been received with all customary forms of
politeness by Miss Rosa, and, installed in a high-back chair, awaited
his share of the entertainment. And when the time arrived, seated
between his friends, and opposite two other servants, there were few,
if any, lighter and more careless hearts that day than the General's.
And of the whole company it may be said, that if they were not
refined, they were at least merry.
"Ladies and genlmn," said the General, soon after the repast had
commenced, and seeming to think the toasts could not begin too soon,
"do me de satisfacshum to fill you glasses. Wid you leave I'm going to
gib a toast."
On this day it was customary to extend an unusual degree of license to
the servants, and hence there was no lack of generous liquors on the
board, of the same descriptions as those drank by their superiors. And
to do them justice, it was seldom the privilege was abused.
The glasses were quickly filled, and the General proposed "de healt'
ob de fair sec." This was drunk with acclamation, and a gentleman
observed, "dat de whole world acknowledge de superur beauty ob de
'Merican ladies." This toast was followed by "De day we celumbrate;"
and it was admitted on all sides that Thanksgiving was one of the most
important institutions of the country. Felix, then, looking at his
friend gave, "the heroes of the 'Merican Revolution;" whereupon, the
old soldier considering it incumbent upon him to return thanks for the
array, requested permission to make some remarks. Of course leave
was readily granted, and the orator, gracefully rising and steadying
himself on the sound leg, with the other a little drawn back, extended
his right hand, and bowing all round began.
"Dere is noting," he said, "so sweet as liberty. 'Tis dis dat make de
eagle fedder light, and de bob-o-link sich a good singer. See de grand
bird how he wheel right about face up to de sun, and hear de moosic ob
de merry little fellow!
"Liberty, liberty,
Berry nice to be free!
Bob-o-link where he please,
Fly in de apple trees,
O, 'tis de Freedom note
Guggle sweet in him troat!
Jink-a-jink, jink-a-jink,
Winky wink, winky wink,
Ony tink, ony tink,
How happy, Bob-o-link!
Sweet! Sweet!
"King George, he want to make de Yankees drink tea instead ob coffee.
Now dere is no comparishum 'atween de two, and who is dere would drink
de little tea leaves dat look as dey been all chew and den roll up,
when he can git good coffee? Now King George he hab a great lot ob dis
tea on hand, and it sell berry slow, and he want to git rid ob it, so
he send it to dis country wid orders dat ebery man, woman, and child
shall drink at least four cup a day, and no coffee. So Broder Jonatan
he rise like a cat back, and he say (begging you pardon, ladies), 'dam
if I drink de tea.' And a great many ob dem dress demselves up like
Injuns, and one dark night dey heab all de tea oberboard in Bosson
harbor, and all de fish get sick, dey say for a week. Now King George
when he hear ob all dis he git mad and jerk his old wig on de ground,
an stamp on it, and kick it in de fire, and say he make de 'Mericans
pay for de tea. And after dat he send a big army to dis country, but
it was no use. De 'Mericans whip dem orfully at Bunker Hill, and dat
was de beginning ob de famous Resolution. And dey continues to drink
de coffee; and I nebber drink no better dan Miss Rosa make in dis
house (bowing to her). And for my 'sploits in de glorious Resolution
you is welcome wid all my heart, ladies and genlmn; and for de
complemen to de officers and sogers I gib dere best knowledgmn on dis
'casion."
The General sat down amid a storm of applause. Miss Rosa after the
excitement caused by his eloquence had subsided, observing that no
toast had been given by any lady, offered to make up the deficiency
herself, which proposal being eagerly accepted, she gave "Miss Faith;
and when she marry may she be happy as the angels." The toast was
drank with right good will, though with somewhat more decorum than
the others. Faith was greatly beloved by the servants, to that degree
indeed, that the affectionate creatures doubted whether there was any
man in the world fit to be her husband. But, enough of toasts and fine
speeches. As the General very judiciously observed when Miss Rosa, who
seemed to think he could not have too many delicacies, nor too much
of them, offered to add to his already overfilled plate, "dere is
'bundance of cranberry saace for dis turkey."
According to custom, as soon as it began to be dark, the bonfires were
lighted, and flashing from various eminences made luminous the night,
while joyous shouts of boys answered each other across the rivers and
ravines.
At nine o'clock the bell rang out its usual warning, and before the
clock struck the next hour, the inhabitants of Hillsdale had courted
the repose of their pillows.