The Lost Hunter. John Turvill Adams
is a young man (the difference in their ages might be half a dozen years), and cannot be 'spected to know ebbery ting. If you gib me your 'tention, I make it all plain as de road Gineral Washington show de British out ob de country. You see when I was in de army in de glorious war ob de Resolution, we say prayers sometime as well as you folks who stay at home, and don't do none ob de fightin. And so when de drum beat, ebbery man must be at his post. Den come de chaplain all in his regimental, and put de book on de big drum, and kneel down, and Gineral Washington he kneel down, too, and de chaplain say some prayer dat sound like de roll ob de drum itself. O, it was so beautiful, and I always feel better arter-wards. Dere nebber was much uniform in de army, but what dere was, de regulars is entitle to it. I nebber tink de soger look just de ting widout de regimental. Now, look at de 'Piscopal minister in de pulpit, in de lily-white and de black gown. De fust is for white folks, and de oder out of respec' for us colored pussons. Dey is his regimental. He look like a regular soger ob de Lord. But see de Presbyterian. He hab no uniform at all. He ony milishy officer."
Felix, who, as in duty bound, was as zealous a Presbyterian (as the Congregationalists in New England were generally called) as Primus was an Episcopalian, was scandalized at such language. He half regretted having given the invitation to the dinner, and it is highly probable that, if he had heard General Ransome's speech before, that gentleman would have so far talked himself out of his good graces (a misfortune that sometimes happens to extraordinary eloquence), as to have lost the object of his anxiety, and, like the nightingale in Cowper's fable, have "sought his dinner somewhere else." But Primus saw the gathering storm and hastened to avert its discharge.
"I hab great respec'," he said, "for the milishy. Dey is excellent for skirmishing, and where ebbery man hab to fight on his own hook, but when it come to de hard fightin' de regulars is de men to be depend on. And den," added he, "dere is odder reasons: I like de exercise in de church better. I like dere taste, too, when dey ornaments de church wid greens at Christmas. It make de winter look kind o' young and happy."
Felix was easily propitiated. He might be offended with his comrade, but his anger could not last. It had passed away, before Primus had concluded his conciliatory remarks. In fact, the two cronies were too necessary to each other's happiness to allow of a long quarrel, and for all Felix's reverence for his master's "meeting," he was as placable as zealous, nor would the famous festival have been a genuine Thanksgiving without his old friend to help him to discuss its luxuries. They shook hands at parting, and Mr. Qui promised to present the complemens of the General to Miss Rosa.
As Felix pursued his way alone, having no one else to talk to, he gave himself the benefit of his conversation.
"That General," he said, aloud, "is a wonderful man. I never respected him before of knowing how to read writin'. I don't believe, after all, he does know how. But when he took the billets in his hand, he sort o' give 'em a squint as if he knew all about it Who learned him? Perhaps he does and perhaps he doesn't. I wonder, too, how he missed all the bullets he preaches about sometimes, with losing only one leg. I heard him say, fifty times, they come like an April shower. Now, if he had a hundred legs, it seems to me they ought all to be smashed. I 'spect, as I heard the doctor say once, he draws on the fact for his 'magination. But what can you 'spect, Felix, from a 'Peskypalian? They think so much of gitting up and setting down, as if there was religion in moving the legs. But let me see about the billets. Miss Faith told me to put the Bernards' in this pocket, and the minister's in this, and the doctor's in this other one. Ah, all right! The doctor is a very curus person. I wonder what makes him talk so much about a man he calls Shakspeare. I heard him say he lived a great many years ago, I guess with Joshua and David, when there was so much fighting going on, and when they hadn't no guns. Perhaps he was Goliah's brother, who come out with shield and spear. Well, there is no sogers with spears now-a-days. It's my opinion, give old Prime a loaded musket with a baggonet, and he'd do more work than Goliah and Shakspeare together, with their spears. But, here, I am near the Judge's. Now, sir, mind your eye, and see that you maintain the spectability of the family". Saying this, Felix drew himself up, adjusted his neckerchief, and strutted somewhat pompously into the yard of the Judge, whence he soon found his way into the kitchen. The invitations to the Bernards were in due form delivered, as were the others, and accepted.
CHAPTER VIII.
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