Shall I own the truth, and confess I had a momentary pleasure in the excitement produced by the rapidity of the motion, by the race we were running with another sled, and by the skill and ease with which Guert, almost without touching the ground, carried us unharmed through sundry narrow passages, and along the line of wood and venison loaded sleighs, barely clearing the noses of their horses. I forgot that I was making this strange exhibition of myself, in a strange place, and almost in strange company. So rapid was our motion, however, that the danger of being recognised was not very great; and there were so many to divide attention, that the act of folly would have been overlooked, but for a most untimely and unexpected accident. We had gone the entire length between the two churches with great success,—several steady, grave, and respectable-looking old burghers calling out, on a high key, "Vell done, Guert!"—for Guert appeared to be a general favourite, in the sense of fun and frolic at least,—when, turning an angle of the Old Dutch Temple, in the ambitious wish of shooting past it, in order to run still lower and shoot off the wharf upon the river, we found ourselves in imminent danger of running under the fore-legs of two foaming horses, that were whirling a sleigh around the same corner of the church. Nothing saved us but Guert's readiness and physical power. By digging a heel into the snow, he caused the sled to fly round at a right angle to its former course, and us to fly off it, heels over head, without much regard to the proprieties, so far as postures or grace was concerned. The negro who drove the sleigh pulled up, at the same instant, with so much force as to throw his horses on their haunches. The result of these combined movements was to cause Guert and myself to roll over in such a way as to regain our feet directly alongside of the sleigh. In rising to my feet, indeed, I laid a hand on the side of the vehicle, in order to assist me in the effort.

What a sight met my eyes! In the front stood the negro, grinning from ear to ear; for he deemed every disaster that occurred on runners a fit subject for merriment. Who ever did anything but laugh at seeing a sleigh upset?—and it was consequently quite in rule to do so on seeing two overgrown boys roll over from a hand-sled. I could have knocked the rascal down, with a good will, but it would not have done to resent mirth that proceeded from so legitimate a cause. Had I been disposed to act differently, however, the strength and courage necessary to effect such a purpose would have been annihilated in me, by finding myself standing within three feet, and directly in front of Anneke Mordaunt and Mary Wallace! The shame at being thus detected in the disastrous termination of so boyish a flight, at first nearly overcame me. How Guert felt I do not know, but, for a single instant, I wished him in the middle of the Hudson, and all Albany, its Dutch Church, sleds, hill, and smoking burghers included, on top of him.

"Mr. Littlepage!" burst out of the rosy lips of Anneke, in a tone of voice that was not to be misunderstood.

"Mr. Guert Ten Eyck!" exclaimed Mary Wallace, in an accent and manner that bespoke chagrin.

"At your service, Miss Mary," answered Guert, who looked a little sheepish at the result of his exploit, though for a reason I did not at first comprehend, brushing some snow from his cap at the same time—"At your service, now and ever, Miss Mary. But, do not suppose it was awkwardness that produced this accident, I entreat of you. It was altogether the fault of the boy who is stationed to give warning of sleighs below the church, who must have left his post. Whenever either of you young ladies will do me the honour to take a seat with me, I will pledge my character, as an Albanian, to carry her to the foot of the highest and steepest hill in town without disturbing a riband."

Marv Wallace made no answer; and I fancied she looked a little sad. It is possible Anneke saw and understood this feeling, for she answered with a spirit that I had never seen her manifest before—

"No, no, Mr. Ten Eyck," she said; "when Miss Wallace or I wish to ride down hill, and become little girls again, we will trust ourselves with boys, whose constant practice will be likely to render them more expert than men can be, who have had time to forget the habits of their childhood. Pompey, we will return home."

The cold inclination of the head that succeeded, while it was sufficiently gracious to preserve appearances, proved too plainly that neither Guert nor myself had risen in the estimation of his mistress, by this boyish exhibition of his skill with the hand-sled. Had either of these young ladies been Albanians, it is probable they would have laughed at our mishap; but no high hill running directly into New York, the custom that prevailed at Albany did not prevail in the capital. Small boys alone used the hand-sled in that part of the colony, while the taste continued longer among the more stable and constant Dutch. Of course, we had nothing to do but to make profound bows, and suffer the negro to move on.

"There it is, Littlepage," exclaimed Guert, with a species of sigh; "I shall have nothing but iced looks for the next week, and all for riding down hill four or five years later than is the rule. Everybody, hereabouts, uses the hand-sled until eighteen, or so; and I am only five-and-twenty. Pray, what may be your age, my dear fellow?"

"Twenty-one, only about a month since. I wish, with all my heart, it were ten!"

"Turned the corner!—well, that's unlucky; but we must make the best of it. My taste is for fun, and so I have admitted to Miss Wallace, twenty times; but she tells me that, after a certain period, men should look to graver things, and think of their country. She has lectured me already, once, on the subject of sliding; though she allows that skating is a manly exercise."

"When a lady takes the trouble to lecture, it is a sure sign she feels some interest in the subject."

"By St. Nicholas! I never thought of that, Littlepage!" cried Guert, who, notwithstanding the great advantages he possessed in the way of face and figure, turned out to have less personal vanity about him than almost any man I ever met with. "Lecture me she has, and that more than once, too!"

"The lady who lectures me, sir, will not get rid of me, at the end of the discourse."

"That's manly! I like it, Littlepage; and I like you. I foresee we shall be great friends; and we'll talk more of this matter another time. Now, Mary has spoken to me of the war, and hinted that a single man, like myself, with the world before him, might do something to make his name known in it. I did not like that; for a girl who loved a fellow would not wish to have him shot."

"A girl who took no interest in her suitor, Mr. Ten Eyck, would not care whether he did anything or not. But I must now quit you, being under an engagement to meet Mr. Worden at the inn, at six."

Guert and I shook hands, for the tenth or twelfth time that day, parting with an understanding that he was to call for us, to accompany our party to the supper, at the previously appointed hour. As I walked towards the inn, I pondered on what had just occurred, in a most mortified temper. That Anneke was displeased, was only too apparent; and I felt fearful that her displeasure was not entirely free from contempt. As for Guert's case, it did not strike me as being half so desperate as my own; for there was nothing unnatural, but something quite the reverse, in women of sense and stability, when they admire any youth of opposite temperament—and I remembered to have heard my grandfather say that such was apt to be the case,—wishing to elevate their suitors in their pursuits and characters. Had Anneke taken the pains to remonstrate with me about the folly of what I had done, I should have been encouraged; but the cold indifference of her manner, not to call it contempt, cut me to the quick. It is true, Anneke seemed to feel most on her friend's account; but I could not mistake the look of surprise with which she saw me, Cornelius Littlepage, rise from under her sleigh, and stand brushing the snow from my clothes, like a great calf as I was! No man can bear to be rendered ridiculous in the presence of the woman he loves.

Near the inn I met Dirck, his whole face illuminated with a look of pleasure.

"I have just met Anneke and Mary Wallace!" he said, "and they stopped their sleigh to speak to me. Herman Mordaunt has been here half the winter, and he means to remain most of the summer. There will be no Lilacsbush this season, the girls told me, but Herman Mordaunt has got a house, where he lives with his own servants, and boils his own pot, as he calls it. We shall be at home there, of course, for you are such a favourite, Corny, ever since that affair of the lion! As for Anneke, I never saw her looking so beautiful!"

"Did Miss Mordaunt say she would be happy to see us on the old footing, Dirck?"

"Did she?—I suppose so. She said I shall be glad to see you, cousin Dirck, whenever you can come, and I hope you will bring with you sometimes the clergyman of whom you have spoken."

"But nothing of Jason Newcome or Corny Littlepage? Tell the truth at once, Dirck; my name was not mentioned?"

"Indeet it was, t'ough; I mentioned it several times, and told them how long we had been on the roat, and how you trove, and how you had sold the sleigh and horses already, and a dozen other t'ings. Oh! we talket a great deal of you, Corny; that is, I dit, and the girls listened."

"Was my name mentioned by either of the young ladies, Dirck, in direct terms?"

"To be sure; Anneke had something to say about you, though it was so much out of the way, I can hardly tell you what it was now. Oh! I remember: she said 'I have seen Mr. Littlepage, and think he has grown since we last met; he promises to make a man one of these days.' What could t'at mean, Corny?"

"That I am a fool, a great overgrown boy, and wish I had never seen Albany; that's what it means. Come, let us go in; Mr. Worden will be expecting us. Ha! Who the devil's that, Dirck?"

A loud Dutch shout from Dirck broke out of him, regardless of the street, and his whole face lighted up into a broad sympathetic smile. I had caught a glimpse of a sled coming down the acclivity we were slowly ascending, which sled glided past us just as I got the words out of my mouth. It was occupied by Jason alone, who seemed just as much charmed with the sport as any other grown-up boy on the hill. There he went, the cocked-hat uppermost, the pea-green coat beneath, and the striped woollens and heavy plated buckles stuck out, one on each side, governing the movement of the sled with the readiness of a lad accustomed to the business.

"That must be capital fun, Corny!" my companion said, scarce able to contain himself for the pleasure he felt. "I have a great mind to borrow a sled and take a turn myself."

"Not if you intend to visit Miss Mordaunt, Dirck. Take my word for it, she does not like to see men following the pleasures of boys."

Dirck stared at me, but being taciturn by nature, he said nothing, and we entered the house. There we found Mr. Worden reading over an old sermon, in readiness for his next Sunday's business; and sitting down, we began to compare notes on the subject of the town and its advantages. The divine was in raptures. As for the Dutch he cared little for them, and had seen but little of them, overlooking them in a very natural, metropolitan sort of way; but he had found so many English officers, had heard so much from home, and had received so many invitations, that his campaign promised nothing but agreeables. We sat chatting over these matters until the tea was served, and for an hour or two afterwards. My bargains were applauded, my promptitude—the promptitude of Guert would have been more just—was commended, and I was told that my parents should hear the whole truth in the matter. In a word, our Mentor being in good-humour with himself, was disposed to be in good humour with every one else.

At the appointed hour, Guert came to escort us to the place of meeting. He was courteous, attentive, and as frank as the air he breathed, in manner. Mr. Worden took to him excessively, and it was soon apparent that he and young Ten Eyck were likely to become warm friends.

"You must know, gentlemen, that the party to which I have had the honour of inviting you, will be composed of some of the heartiest young men in Albany, if not in the colony. We meet once a month, in the house of an old bachelor, who belongs to us, and who will be delighted to converse with you, Mr. Worden, on the subject of religion. Mr. Van Brunt is very expert in religion, and we make him the umpire of all our disputes and bets on that subject."

This sounded a little ominous, I thought; but Mr. Worden was not a man to be frightened from a good hot supper, by half-a-dozen inadvertent words. He could tolerate even a religious discussion, with such an object in view. He walked on, side by side with Guert, and we were soon at the door of the house of Mr. Van Brunt, the Bachelor in Divinity, as I nicknamed him. Guert entered without knocking, and ushered us into the presence of our quasi host.

We found in the room a company of just twelve, Guert included; that being the entire number of the club. It struck me, at the first glance, that the whole set had a sort of slide-down-hill aspect, and that we were likely to make a night of it. My acquaintance with Dirck, and indeed my connection with the old race, had not left me ignorant of a certain peculiarity in the Dutch character. Sober, sedate, nay phlegmatic as they usually appeared to be, their roystering was on a pretty high key, when it once fairly commenced. We thought one lad of the old race, down in Westchester, fully a match for two of the Anglo-Saxon breed, when it came to a hard set-to; no ordinary fun appeasing the longings of an excited Dutchman. Tradition had let me into a good many secrets connected with their excesses, and I had heard the young Albanians often mentioned as being at the head of their profession in these particulars.

Nothing could be more decorous, or considerate, however, than our introduction and reception. The young men seemed particularly gratified at having a clergyman of their party, and I make no doubt it was intended that the evening should be one of unusual sobriety and moderation. I heard the word "Dominie" whispered from mouth to mouth, and it was easy to see the effect it produced. Most eyes were fastened on Van Brunt, a red-faced, square-built, somewhat dissolute-looking man of forty-five, who seemed to find his apology for associating with persons so much his juniors, in his habits, and possibly in the necessity of the case; as men of his own years might not like his company.

"And, gentlemen, it is dry business standing here looking at each other," observed Mr. Van Brunt; "and we will take a little punch, to moisten our hearts, as well as our throats. Guert, yon is the pitcher."

Guert made good use of the pitcher, and each man had his glass of punch,—a beverage then, as now, much used in the colony. I must acknowledge that the mixture was very knowingly put together, though I had no sooner swallowed my glass, than I discovered it was confounded strong. Not so with Guert. Not only did he swallow one glass, but he swallowed two, in quick succession, like a man who was thirsty; standing at the time in a fine, manly, erect attitude, as one who trifled with something that did not half tax his powers. The pitcher, though quite large, was emptied at that one assault, in proof of which it was turned bottom upwards, by Guert himself.

Conversation followed, most of it being in English, out of compliment to the Dominie, who was not supposed to understand Dutch. This was an error, however, Mr. Worden making out tolerably well in that language, when he tried. I was felicitated on the bargains I had made with the contractor; and many kind and hospitable attempts were made to welcome me in a frank, hearty manner among strangers. I confess I was touched by these honest and sincere endeavours to put me at my ease, and when a second pitcher of punch was brought round, I took another glass with right good-will, while Guert, as usual, took two; though the liquor he drank, I had many occasions to ascertain subsequently, produced no more visible effect on him, in the way of physical consequences, than if he had not swallowed it. Guert was no drunkard, far from it; he could only drink all near him under the table, and remain firm in his chair himself. Such men usually escape the imputation of being sots, though they are very apt to pay the penalty of their successes at the close of their career. These are the men who break down at sixty, if not earlier, becoming subject to paralysis, indigestion, and other similar evils.

Such was the state of things, the company gradually getting into a very pleasant humour, when Guert was called out of the room by one of the blacks, who bore a most ominous physiognomy while making his request. He was gone but a moment, when he returned with a certain sort of consternation painted in his own handsome face. Mr. Van Brunt was called into a corner, where two or three more of the principal persons present soon collected, in an earnest, half-whispered discourse. I was seated so near this group, as occasionally to overhear a few expressions, though to get no clear clue to its meaning. The words I overheard were, "old Cuyler"—"capital supper"—"venison and ducks"—"partridges and quails"—"knows us all"—"never do"—"Dominie the man"—"strangers"—"how to do it?" and several other similar expressions, which left a vague impression on my mind that our supper was in great peril from some cause or other; but what that cause was I could not learn. Guert was evidently the principal person in this consultation, everybody appearing to listen to his suggestions with respect and attention. At length our friend came out of the circle, and in a courteous, self-possessed manner communicated the difficulty in the following words:

"You must know, Rev. Mr. Worden, and Mr. Littlepage, and Mr. Follock, and Mr. Newcome, that we have certain customs of our own, among us youths of Albany, that perhaps are not familiar to you gentlemen nearer the capital. The trut' is, that we are not always as wise and as sober as our parents, and grandparents in particular, could wish us to be. It is t'ought a good thing among us sometimes, to rummage the hen-roosts and poultry-yards of the burghers, and to sup on the fruits of such a forage. I do not know how it is with you, gentlemen; but I will own, that to me, ducks and geese got in this innocent, game-like way, taste sweeter than when they are bought in the market-hall: our own supper for to-night was a bought supper, but it has become the victim of a little enlargement of the practice I have mentioned."

"How!—how's that, friend Ten Eyck!" exclaimed Mr. Worden, in no affected consternation. "The supper a victim, do you say?"

"Yes, sir; to be frank at once, it is gone; gone to a pullet, a steak, and a potatoe. They have not left us a dish!"

"They!" echoed the parson—"And who can they be?"

"That is a point yet to be ascertained, for the operation has been carried on in so delicate and refined a way, that none of our blacks know anything of the matter. It seems there was a cry of fire just now, and it took every one of the negroes into the street; during which time all our game has been put up, and has flown."

"Bless me! bless me! what a calamity!—what a rascally theft! Did you not mark it down?"

"No sir, I am sorry to say we have not; nor do we apply such hard names to a frolic, even when we lose our supper by it. It is the act of some of our associates and friends, who hope to feast at our expense to-night; and who will, gentlemen, unless you will consent to aid us in recovering our lost dishes."

"Aid you, my dear sir—I will do any thing you can wish—what will you have me attempt! Shall I go to the fort, and ask for succour from the army?"

"No, sir; our object can be effected short of t'at. I am quite certain we can find what we want, only two or three doors from this, if you will consent to lend us a little, a very little of your assistance."

"Name it—name it, at once, for Heaven's sake, Mr. Guert. The dishes must be getting cold, all this time," cried Mr. Worden, jumping up with alacrity, and looking about him, for his hat and cloak.

"The service we ask of you, gentlemen, is just this," rejoined Guert, with a coolness that, when I came to reflect on the events of that night, has always struck me as singularly astonishing. "Our supper, and an excellent one it is, is close at hand, as I have said. Nothing will be easier than to get it on our own table, in the next room, could we only manage to call old Doortje off duty, and detain her for five minutes at the area gate of her house. She knows every one of us, and would smell a rat in a minute, did we show ourselves; but Mr. Worden and Mr. Littlepage, here, might amuse her for the necessary time, without any trouble. She is remarkably fond of Dominies, and would not be able to trace you back to this house, leaving us to eat the supper in peace. After t'at, no one cares for the rest."

"I'll do it!—I'll do it!" cried Mr. Worden, hurrying into the passage, in quest of his hat and cloak. "It is no more than just that you should have your own, and the supper will be either eaten, or overdone, should we go for constables."

"No fear of constables, Mr. Worden, we never employ them in our poultry wars. All we, who will get the supper back again, can expect, will be merely a little hot water, or a skirmish with our friends."

The details of the movement were now intelligibly and clearly settled. Guert was to head a party provided with large clothes-baskets, who were to enter the kitchen, during Doortje's absence, and abstract the dishes, which could not yet be served, as all in Albany, of a certain class, sat down to supper at nine precisely. As for Doortje, a negro who was in the house, in waiting on one of the guests, his master, would manage to get her out to the area gate, the house having a cellar kitchen, where it would depend on Mr. Worden to detain her, three or four minutes. To my surprise, the parson entered on the execution of the wild scheme with boyish eagerness, affirming that he could keep the woman half an hour, if it were necessary, by delivering her a lecture on the importance of observing the eighth commandment. As soon as the preliminaries were thus arranged, the two parties proceeded on their respective duties, the hour admonishing us of the necessity of losing no time unnecessarily.

I did not like this affair from the first, the experiment of sliding down hill, having somewhat weakened my confidence in Guert Ten Eyck's judgment. Nevertheless, it would not do for me to hold back, when Mr. Worden led, and, after all, there was no great harm in recovering a supper that had been abstracted from our own house. Guert did not proceed, like ourselves, by the street, but he went with his party, out of a back gate into an alley, and was to enter the yard of the house he assailed, by means of a similar gate in its rear. Once in that yard, the access to the kitchen, and the retreat, were very easy, provided the cook could be drawn away from her charge at so important a moment. Everything, therefore, depended on the address of the young negro who was in the house, and ourselves.

On reaching the gate of the area, we stopped while our negro descended to invite Doortje forth. This gave us a moment to examine the building. The house was large, much larger than most of those round it, and what struck me as unusual, there was a lighted lamp over the door. This looked as if it might be a sort of a tavern, or eating house, and rendered the whole thing more intelligible to me. Our roystering plunderers doubtless intended to sup on their spoils at that tavern.

The negro was gone but a minute, when he came out with a young black of his own sex, a servant whom he was leading off his post, on some pretence of his own, and was immediately followed by the cook. Doortje made many curtsies as soon as she saw the cocked-hat and black cloak of the Dominie, begging his pardon and asking his pleasure. Mr. Worden now began a grave and serious lecture on the sin of stealing, holding the confounded Doortje in discourse quite three minutes. In vain the cook protested she had taken nothing; that her master's property was sacred in her eyes, and ever had been; that she never gave away even cold meats without an order, and that she could not imagine why she was to be talked to in this way. To give him his due, Mr. Worden performed his part to admiration, though it is true he had only an ignorant wench, who was awed by his profession, to manage. At length we heard a shrill whistle from the alley, the signal of success, when Mr. Worden wished Doortje a solemn good-night, and walked away with all the dignity of a priest. In a minute or two we were in the house again, and were met by Guert with cordial shakes of the hand, thanks for our acceptable service, and a summons to supper. It appears that Doortje had actually dished-up everything, all the articles standing before a hot fire waiting only for the clock to strike nine to be served. In this state, then, the only change the supper had to undergo, was to bring it a short distance through the alley and to place it on our table, instead of that for which it was so lately intended.

Notwithstanding the rapidity with which the changes had been made, it would not have been very easy for a stranger to detect any striking irregularity in our feast. It is true, there were two sets of dishes on the table, or rather dishes of two different sets; but the ducks, game, &c., were not only properly cooked, but were warm and good. To work everybody went, therefore, with an appetite, and for five minutes little was heard beyond the clatter of knives and forks. Then came the drinking of healths, and finally the toasts, and the songs, and the stories.

Guert sang capitally, in a fine, clear, sweet, manly voice, and he gave us several airs with words both in English and in Dutch. He had just finished one of these songs, and the clapping of hands was still loud and warm, when the young man called on Mr. Worden for a lady, or a sentiment.

"Come, Dominie," he called out, for by this time the feast had produced its familiarity—"Come, Dominie, you have acquitted yourself so well as a lecturer, that we are all dying to hear you preach."

"A lady do you say, sir?" asked the parson, who was as merry as any of us.

"A laty—a laty"—shouted six or seven at once. "The Tominie's laty—the Tominie's laty."

"Well, gentlemen, since you will have it so, you shall have one. You must not complain if she prove a little venerable,—but I give you 'Mother Church.'"

This produced a senseless laugh, as such things usually do, and then followed my turn. Mr. Van Brunt very formally called on me for a lady. After pausing a moment I said, as I flatter myself, with spirit—"Gentlemen, I will give you another almost as heavenly—Miss Anneke Mordaunt!"

"Miss Anneke Mordaunt!" was echoed round the table, and I soon discovered that Anneke was a general favourite, and a very common toast already at Albany.

"I shall now ask Mr. Guert Ten Eyck for his lady," I said, as soon as silence was restored, there being very little pause between the cups that night.

This appeal changed the whole character of the expression of Guert's face. It became grave in an instant, as if the recollection of her whose name he was about to utter produced a pause in his almost fierce mirth. He coloured, then raised his eyes and looked sternly round as if to challenge denial, and gave—

"Miss Mary Wallace."

"Ay, Guert, we are used to that name, now," said Van Brunt, a little drily. "This is the tenth time I have heard it from you within two months."

"You will be likely to hear it twenty more, sir; for I shall give Mary Wallace, and nobody but Mary Wallace, while the lady remains Mary Wallace. How, now, Mr. Constable! What may be the reason we have the honour of a visit from you at this time of night." [22]

[Footnote 22: In this whole affair of the supper, the reader will find incidents that bear a striking resemblance to certain local characteristics portrayed by Mrs. Grant, of Laggan, in her memoirs of an American Lady; thus corroborating the fidelity of the pictures of our ancient manners, as given by that respectable writer, by the unquestioned authority of Mr. Cornelius Littlepage.—EDITOR.]



CHAPTER XIII.

"Masters, it is proved already That you are little better than false knaves; And it will go near to be thought so, shortly."

Dogberry.

The sudden appearance of the city constable, a functionary whose person was not unknown to most of the company, brought every man at table to his feet, the Rev. Mr. Worden, Dirck and myself, included. For my own part, I saw no particular reason for alarm, though it at once struck me that this visit might have some connection with the demolished supper, since the law does not, in all cases, suffer a man to reclaim even his own, by trick or violence. As for the constable himself, a short, compact, snub-nosed, Dutch-built person, who spoke English as if it disagreed with his bile, he was the coolest of the whole party.

"Vell, Mr. Guert," he said, with a sort of good-natured growl of authority, "here I moost coome ag'in! Mr. Mayor woult be happy to see you, and ter Tominie, dat ist of your party; and ter gentleman dat acted as clerk, ven he lectured old Doortje, Mr. Mayor's cook."

Mr. Mayor's cook! Here, then, a secret was out, with a vengeance! Guert had not reclaimed his own lost supper, which, having passed into the hands of the Philistines, was hopelessly gone; but he had actually stolen and eaten the supper prepared for the Mayor of Albany,—Peter Cuyler, a man of note, and standing, in all respects; a functionary who had held his office from time immemorial;—the lamp was the symbol of authority, and not the sign of an inn, or an eating-house;—the supper, moreover, was never prepared for one man, or one family, but had certainly been got up for the honourable treatment of a goodly company;—fifteen stout men had mainly appeased their appetites on it; and the fragments were that moment under discussion among half-a-dozen large-mouthed, shining negro faces, in the kitchen! Under circumstances like these, I looked inquiringly at the Rev. Mr. Worden—and the Rev. Mr. Worden looked inquiringly at me. There was no apparent remedy, however; but, after a brief consultation with Guert, we, the summoned parties, took our hats and followed Dogberry to the residence of Mr. Mayor.

"You are not to be uneasy, gentlemen, at this little interruption of our amusements," said Guert, dropping in between Mr. Worden and myself, as we proceeded on our way, "these things happening very often among us. You are innocent, you know, under all circumstances, since you supposed that the supper was our own—brought back by direct means, instead of having recourse to the shabby delays of the law."

"And whose supper may this have been, sir, that we have just eaten!" demanded Mr. Worden.

"Why, there can be no harm, now, in telling you the truth, Dominie; and I will own, therefore, it belonged in law to Mr. Mayor Cuyler. There is no great danger, however, as you will see, when I come to explain matters. You must know that the Mayor's wife was a Schuyler, and my mother has some of that blood in her veins, and we count cousins as far as we can see, in Albany. It is just supping with one's relations, a little out of the common way, as you will perceive, gentlemen."

"Have you dealt fairly with Mr. Littlepage and myself, sir, in this affair?" Mr. Worden asked, a little sternly. "I might, with great propriety, lecture to a cook, on the eighth commandment, when that cook was a party to robbing you of your supper; but how shall I answer to His Honour, Mr. Mayor, on the charge which will now be brought against me? It is not for myself, Mr. Guert, that I feel so much concern, as for the credit and reputation of my sacred office, and that, too, among your disciples of the schools of Leyden!"

"Leave it all to me, my dear Dominie—leave it all to me," answered Guert, well disposed to sacrifice himself, rather than permit a friend to suffer. "I am used to these little matters, and will take care of you."

"I vill answer for t'at," put in the constable, looking over his shoulder. "No young fly-away in Allponny hast more knowletge in t'ese matters t'an Mr. Guert, here. If any potty can draw his heat out of the yoke, Mr. Guert can, Yaas—yaas—he know all apout t'ese little matters, sure enough."

This was encouraging, of a certainty! Our associate was so well known for his tricks and frolics, that even the constable who took him calculated largely on his address in getting out of scrapes! I did not apprehend that any of us were about to be tried and convicted of a downright robbery; for I knew how far the Dutch carried their jokes of this nature, and how tolerant the seniors were to their juniors; and especially how much all men are disposed to regard any exploit of the sort of that in which we had been engaged, when it has been managed adroitly, and in a way to excite a laugh. Still, it was no joke to rob a Mayor of his supper these functionaries usually passing to their offices through the probationary grade of Alderman. [23] Guert was not free from uneasiness, as was apparent by a question he put to the officer, on the steps of Mr. Cuyler's house, and under the very light of the official lamp.

"How is the old gentleman, this evening, Hans?" the principal asked, with some little concern in his manner. "I hope he and his company have supped?"

"Vell, t'at is more t'an I can tell you, Mr. Guert. He look't more as like himself, when he hat the horse t'ieves from New Englant taken up, t'an he hast for many a tay. 'Twas most too pat, Mr. Guert, to run away wit' the Mayor's own supper! I coult have tolt you who hast your own tucks and venison."

"I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart; but we were hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know a body must provide well for company."

"Yaas, yaas; I understants it, and knows how you moost have peen nonplush't to do sich a t'ing; put it was mo-o-st too pat. Vell, we are all young, afore we live to be olt—t'at effery potty knows."

By this time the door was open, and we entered. Mr. Mayor had issued orders we should all be shown into the parlour, where I rather think, from what subsequently passed, he intended to cut up Guert a little more than common, by exposing him before the eyes of a particular person. At all events, the reader can judge of my horror, at finding that the party whose supper I had just helped to demolish, consisted, in addition to three or four sons and daughters of the house, of Herman Mordaunt, Mary Wallace, and Anneke! Of course, everybody knew what had been done; but, until we entered the room, Mr. Mayor alone knew who had done it. Of Mr. Worden and myself even, he knew no more than he had learned from Dootje's account of the matter; and the cook, quite naturally, had represented us as rogues feigning our divinity.

Guert was a thoroughly manly fellow, and he did us the justice to enter the parlour first. Poor fellow! I can feel for him, even at this distance of time, when his eye first fell on Mary Wallace's pallid and distressed countenance. It could scarcely be less than I felt myself, when I first beheld Anneke's flushed features, and the look of offended propriety that I fancied to be sparkling in her estranged eye.

Mr. Mayor evidently regarded Mr. Worden with surprise, as indeed he did me; for, instead of strangers, he probably expected to meet two of those delinquents whose faces were familiar to him, by divers similar jocular depredations, committed within the limits of his jurisdiction. Then the circumstance that Mr. Worden was a real Dominie, could not be questioned by those who saw him standing, as he did, face to face, with all the usual signs of his sacred office in his dress and air.

"I believe there must be some mistake here, constable!" exclaimed Mr. Mayor. "Why have you brought these two strange gentlemen along with Guert Ten Eyck?"

"My orters, Mr. Mayor, wast to pring Dootje's 'rapscallion Tominie,' and his 'rapscallion frient;' and t'at is one, and t'is ist t'ot'e."

"This gentleman has the appearance of being a real clergyman, and that too, of the church of England."

"Yaas, Mr. Mayor, t'at is yoost so. He wilt preach fifteen minutes wit'out stopping, if you wilt give him a plack gownt; and pray an hour in a white shirt." [24]

"Will you do me the favour, Guert Ten Eyck, to let me have the names of the strangers I have the pleasure to receive," said the mayor, a little authoritatively.

"Certainly, Mr. Mayor; certainly, and with very great pleasure. I should have done this at once, had we been ushered into your house by any one but the city constable. Whenever I accompany that gentleman anywhere, I always wait to ascertain my welcome."

Guert laughed with some heart at this allusion to his own known delinquencies, while Mr. Cuyler only smiled. I could see, notwithstanding the severe measures to which he had resorted in this particular case, that the last was not unfriendly to the first, and that our friend Guert had not fallen literally among robbers, in being brought to the place where we were.

"This reverend dominie," continued Guert, as soon as he had had his laugh, and had ventured to cast a short, inquiring glance at Mary Wallace, "is a gentleman from England, Mr. Mayor, who is to preach in St. Peter's the day after to-morrow, by special invitation from the chaplain; when, I make no doubt, we shall all be much edified; Miss Mary Wallace among the rest, if she will do him the honour to attend the service—good, and angelic, and forgiving, as I know she is by nature."

This speech caused all eyes to turn on the young lady whose face crimsoned, though she made no reply. I now felt satisfied that Guert's manly, frank, avowed, and sincere admiration had touched the heart of Mary Wallace, while her reason condemned that which her natural tenderness encouraged; and the struggle in her mind was then, and long after, a subject of curious study with me. As for Anneke, I thought she resented this somewhat indiscreet, not to say indelicate though indirect avowal of his feelings towards his mistress; and that she looked on Guert with even more coldness than she had previously done. Neither of the ladies, however, said anything. During this dumb-show, Mr. Cuyler had leisure to recover from the surprise of discovering that one of his prisoners was really a clergyman, and to inquire who the other might be.

"That gentleman, then, is in fact a clergyman!" he answered. "You have forgotten to name the other, Guert."

"This is Mr. Corny Littlepage, Mr. Mayor—the only son of Major Littlepage, of Satanstoe, Westchester."

The Mayor looked a little puzzled, and I believe felt somewhat embarrassed as to the manner in which he ought to proceed. The incursion of Guert upon his premises much exceeded in boldness, anything of the kind that had ever before occurred in Albany. It was common enough for young men of his stamp to carry off poultry, pigs, &c., and feast on the spoils; and cases had occurred, as I afterwards learned, in which rival parties of these depredators preyed on each other—the same materials for a supper having been known to change hands two or three times before they were consumed—but no one had ever presumed, previously to this evening, to make an inroad even on Mr. Mayor's hencoop, much less to molest the domains of his cook. In the first impulse of his anger, Mr. Cuyler had sent for the constable; and Guert's club, with its place of meeting being well known, that functionary having had many occasions to visit it, the latter proceeded thither forthwith. It is probable, however, a little reflection satisfied the mayor that a frolic could not well be treated as a larceny; and that Guert had some of his own wife's blood in his veins. When he came to find that two respectable strangers were implicated in the affair, one of whom was actually a clergyman, this charitable feeling was strengthened, and he changed his course of proceeding.

"You can return home, Hans," said Mr. Mayor, very sensibly mollified in his manner. "Should there be occasion for your further services, I will send for you. Now gentlemen," as soon as the door closed on the constable, "I will satisfy you that old Peter Cuyler can cover a table, and feed his friends, even though Guert Ten Eyck be so near a neighbour. Miss Wallace, will you allow me the honour to lead you to the table? Mr. Worden will see Mrs. Cuyler, in safety, to the same place."

On this hint, the missionary stepped forward with alacrity, and led Mrs. Mayoress after Mary Wallace, with the utmost courtesy. Guert did the same to one of the young ladies of the house; Anneke was led in by one of the young men; and I took the remaining young lady, who, I presumed, was also one of the family. It was very apparent we were respited; and all of us thought it wisest to appear as much at our ease as possible, in order not to balk the humour of the principal magistrate of the ancient town of Albany.

To do Mr. Mayor justice, the lost time had been so well improved by Doortje, that, on looking around the table, I thought the supper to which we were thus strangely invited, was, of the two, the best I had seen that evening. Luckily, game was plenty; and, by means of quails, partridges, oysters, venison patties, and other dishes of that sort, the cook had managed to send up quite as good a supper, at ten o'clock, as she had previously prepared for nine.

I will not pretend that I felt quite at my ease, as I took my seat at the table, for the second time that night. All the younger members of the party looked exceedingly grave, as if they could very well dispense with our company; the old people alone appearing to enter into the scene with any spirit. Anneke did not even look at me, after the first astounded look given on my entrance; nor did Mary Wallace once cast her eyes towards Guert, when we reached the supper-room. Mr. Mayor, notwithstanding, had determined to laugh off the affair; and he and Mr. Worden soon became excellent friends, and began to converse freely and naturally.

"Come, cousin Guert," cried Mr. Mayor, after two or three glasses of Madeira had still further warmed his heart, "fill, and pledge me—unless you prefer to give a lady. If the last, everybody will drink to her, with hearty good-will. You eat nothing, and must drink the more."

"Ah! Mr. Mayor, I have toasted one lady, to-night, and cannot toast another."

"Not present company excepted, my boy?"

"No, sir, not even with that license. I pledge you, with all my heart, and thank you, with all my heart, for this generous treatment, after my own foolish frolic;—but, you know how it is, Mr. Mayor, with us Albany youths, when our pride is up, and a supper must be had—"

"Not I, Guert; I know nothing about it; but should very well like to learn. How came you, in the first place, to take such a fancy to my cook's supper? Did you imagine it better than Van Brunt's cook could give you?"

"The supper of Arent Van Brunt's cook has disappeared—gone on the hill, I fancy, among the red-coats; and, to own the truth, Mr. Mayor, it was yours, or nothing. I had invited these gentlemen to pass the evening with us. One of our blacks happened to mention what was going on here, and hospitality led us all astray. It was nothing more, I do assure you, Mr. Mayor."

"And so your hospitable feelings made your guests work for their supper, by sending them to preach to old Doortje, while you were dishing up my ducks and game?"

"Your pardon, Mr. Mayor; Doortje had dished-up, before she went to lecture. Your cook is too well trained to neglect her duty, even to hear a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Worden! But, these gentlemen were quite as much deceived as the old woman; for, they supposed we were after our own lost goods, and did not know that you dwelt here; and were as much my dupes as old Doortje herself. Truth obliges me to own this much, in their justification."

There was a general clearing up of countenances, at this frank avowal; and I saw that Anneke, herself, turned her looks inquiringly upon the speaker, and suffered a smile to relieve the extreme gravity of her sweet countenance. From that moment, a very sensible change came over the feelings and deportment of the younger part of the company, and the conversation became easier and more natural. It was certainly much in our favour to have it known, we had not officiously and boyishly joined in a gratuitous attempt to rob and insult this particular and unoffending family, but that Mr. Worden and I supposed we were simply aiding in getting back those things which properly belonged to our hosts, and getting them back, too, in a manner of which the party we supposed we were acting against, would certainly have no right to complain, inasmuch as they had set the example. Guert was encouraged to go on further with his explanations; which he did, in his own honest, candid manner, exculpating us, in effect, from everything but being a little too much disposed to waggery, for a minister of the church, and his pupil, who had just commenced his travels.

Anneke's face brightened up, more and more, as the explanations proceeded; and, soon after they were ended, she turned to me in a very gracious manner, and inquired after my mother. As I sat directly opposite to her, and the table was narrow, we could converse without attracting much attention to ourselves; Mr. Mayor and his other guests keeping up a round of reasonably noisy jokes, on the events of the evening, nearer the foot of the table.

"You find some customs in Albany, Mr. Littlepage, that are not known to us, in New York," Anneke observed, after a few preliminary remarks had opened the way to further communication.

"I scarce know, Miss Anneke, whether you allude to what has occurred this evening, or to what occurred this afternoon?"

"To both, I believe," answered Anneke, smiling, though she coloured, as I thought, with a species of feminine vexation; "for, certainly, one is no more a custom with us than the other."

"I have been most unfortunate, Miss Mordaunt, in the exhibitions I have made of myself in the course of the few hours I have passed in this, to me, strange place. I am afraid you regard me as little more than an overgrown boy who has been permitted by his parents to leave home sooner than he ought."

"This is your construction, and not mine, Mr. Littlepage. I suppose you know—but, we will talk of this in the other room, or at some other time."

I took the hint, and said no more on the subject while at table. Mr. Mayor, I suppose in consideration of our having gone through the exactions of one feast already that evening, permitted us to leave the supper-room much earlier than common, and the hour being late, the whole party broke up immediately afterwards. Before we separated, however, Herman Mordaunt approached me, in a friendly, free way, and invited me to come to his house at eight next morning to breakfast, requesting the pleasure of Dirck's company at the same time; the invitation to the latter going through me. It is scarcely necessary to say how gladly I accepted, and how much I was relieved by this termination of an adventure that, at one moment, menaced me with deep disgrace. Had Mr. Mayor seen fit to pursue the affair of the abstraction of his first supper in a serious vein, although the legal consequences could not probably have amounted to anything very grave, they might prove very ridiculous; and I have no doubt they would have brought about a very abrupt termination of my visit to the north. As it was, my mind was vastly relieved, as I believe was the case also with that of the Rev. Mr. Worden.

"Corny," said that gentleman, after we had wished Guert good-night, and were well on our way to the inn again, "this second supper has helped surprisingly to digest the first. I doubt if our new acquaintance, here, will be likely to turn out very profitable to us."

"Yet, sir, you appeared to take to him exceedingly, and I had thought you excellent friends."

"I like the fellow well enough too; for he is hearty, and frank, and good-natured; but there was some little policy in keeping on good terms with him. I'm afraid, Corny, I did not altogether consult the dignity of my holy office, this morning, on the ice! It is exceedingly unbecoming in a clergyman, to be seen running in a public place like a school-boy, or a youngster contending in a match. I thought, moreover, I overheard one of those young Dutchmen call me the 'Loping Dominie;' and so, taking altogether, it struck me it would be wisest to keep on good terms with this Guert Ten Eyck."

"I see your policy, sir, and it does not become me to deny it. As for myself, I confess I like Guert surprisingly, and shall not give him up easily; though he has already got me into two serious scrapes in the short time we have been acquainted; He is a hearty, good-natured, thoughtless young fellow; who, Dutchman-like, when he does make an attempt to enjoy life, does it with all his heart."

I then related the affair of the hand-sled to Mr. Worden, who gave me some of that sort of consolation, of which a man receives a great deal, as he elbows his way through this busy, selfish world.

"Well, Corny," said my old master, "I am not certain you did not look more like a fool, as you rolled over from that sled, than I looked while 'loping' from our friends in the sleigh!"

We both laughed as we entered the tavern; I, to conceal the vexation I really felt, and Mr. Worden, as I presume, because he was flattered with the belief that I must have appeared quite as ridiculous as himself.

Next morning I proceeded to Herman Mordaunt's residence at the earliest hour the rules of society would allow. I found the family established in one of those Dutch edifices, of which Albany was mainly composed, and which stood a little removed from the street—having a tiny yard in front, with the stoop in the gable, and that gable towards the yard. The battlement walls of this house diminished towards the high apex of a very steep roof by steps, as we are all so much accustomed to see, and the whole was surmounted by an iron weathercock, that was perched on a rod of some elevation. It was always a matter of importance with the Dutch to know which way the wind blew; nor did it comport with their habits of minute accuracy, to trust to the usual indications of the feeling on the skin, the bending of branches, the flying of clouds, or the driving of smoke; but they must and would have the certainty of a machine, that was constructed expressly to let them know the fact. Smoke might err, but a weathercock would not!

No one was in the little parlour into which I was shown by the servant who admitted me to the house, and in whom I recognised Herman Mordaunt's principal male attendant, of the household in New York. How pleasantly did that little room appear to me, in the minute or two that I was left in it alone. There lay the very shawl that Anneke had on, the day I met her in the Pinkster Field; and a pair of gloves that it seemed to me no other hands but hers were small enough to wear, had been thrown on the shawl, carelessly, as one casts aside a thing of that sort, in a hurry. A dozen other articles were put here and there, that denoted the habits and presence of females of refinement. But the gloves most attracted my attention, and I must needs rise and examine them. It is true, these gloves might belong to Mary Wallace, for she, too, had a pretty little hand, but I fancied they belonged to Anneke. Under this impression, I raised them to my lips, and was actually pressing them there, with a good deal of romantic feeling, when a light footstep in the room told me I was not alone. Dropping the gloves, I turned and beheld Anneke herself. She was regarding me with an expression of countenance I did not then know how to interpret, and which I now hardly know how to describe. In the first place, her charming countenance was suffused with blushes, while her eyes were filled with an expression of softened interest, that caused my heart to beat so violently, that I did not know but it would escape by the channel of the throat. How near I was to declaring all I felt, at that moment; of throwing myself at the feet of the dear, dear creature, and of avowing how much and engrossingly she had filled both my waking and sleeping thoughts during the last year, and of beseeching her to bless the remainder of my days, by becoming my wife! Nothing prevented this sally, but the remark which Anneke made, the instant she had gracefully curtsied, in return to my confused and awkward bow, and which happened to be this:

"What do you find so much to admire in Miss Wallace's gloves?" asked the wilful girl, biting her lip, as I fancied, to suppress a smile, though her cheeks were still suffused, and her eyes continued to give forth that indescribable expression of bewitching softness. "It is a pair my father presented to her, and she wore them last evening in compliment to him."

"I beg pardon, Miss Mordaunt—Miss Anneke—that is—I beg pardon. Is there not a very delightful odour about those gloves—that is, I was thinking so, and was endeavouring to ascertain what it might be by the scent."

"It must be the lavender with which we young ladies are so coquettish as to sprinkle our gloves and handkerchiefs—or it may be musk. Mary is rather fond of musk, though I prefer lavender. But what an evening we had, Mr. Littlepage! and what an introduction you have had to Albany and most of all, what a master of ceremonies!"

"Do you then dislike Guert Ten Eyck as an acquaintance, Miss Anneke?"

"Far from it. It is quite impossible to dislike Guert; he is so manly; so ready to admit his own weaknesses; so sincere in all he does and says; so good natured; and, in short, so much that, were one his sister, she might wish him to be, and yet so much that a sister must regret."

"I thought last evening that all the ladies felt an interest in him, notwithstanding the numberless wild and ill-judged things he does. Is he not a favourite with Miss Wallace?"

The quick, sensitive glance that Anneke gave me, said plainly enough that my question was indiscreet, and it was no sooner put than it was regretted. A shadow passed athwart the sweet face of my companion, and a moment of deep, and, as I fancied, of painful thought succeeded. Then a light broke over all, a smile illumined her features, after which a light girlish laugh came to show how active were the agents within, and how strong was the native tendency to happiness and humour.

"After all, Corny Littlepage," said Anneke, turning her face towards me with an indescribable character of fun and feeling so blended in it, as fairly to puzzle me, "you must admit that your exploit in the hand-sled was sufficiently ridiculous to last a young man for some time!"

"I confess it all, Anneke, and shall have a care how I turn boy again in a strange place. I am rejoiced to find, however, that you look upon the foolish affair of the slide as more grave than that of the supper, which I was fearful might involve me in serious disgrace."

"Neither is very serious, Mr. Littlepage, though the last might have proved awkward, had not the Mayor known the ways of the young men of the town. They say, however, that nothing so bold has ever before been attempted in that way, in Albany, great as are the liberties that are often taken with the neighbours' hen-coops."

And she laughed, and this time it was naturally, and without the least restraint.

"I hope you will not think it shabby in me, if I seem to wish to throw all the blame on this harum-scarum Guert Ten Eyck. He drew me into both affairs, and into the last, in a great measure, innocently and ignorantly."

"So it is understood, and so it would be understood, the moment Guert Ten Eyck was found to be connected with the affair at all."

"I may hope, then, to be forgiven, Anneke?" I said, holding out a hand to invite her to accept it as a pledge of pardon.

Anneke did not prudishly decline putting her own little hand in mine, though I got only the ends of two or three slender delicate fingers; and her colour increased as she bestowed this grace.

"You must ask forgiveness, Corny," she answered,—I believe she now used this familiar name simply to show how completely she had forgotten the little spleen she had certainly felt at my untoward exhibition in the street.—"You must ask forgiveness of those who possess the right to pardon. If Corny Littlepage chooses to slide down hill, like a boy, what right has Anneke Mordaunt to say him nay?"

"Every right in the world—the right of friendship—the right of a superior mind, of superior manners—the right that my——"

"Hush!—that is Mr. Bulstrode's footstep in the passage, and he will not understand this discussion on the subject of my manifold rights. It takes him some time, however, to throw aside his overcoats, and furs, and sword; and I will just tell you that Guert Ten Eyck is a dangerous master of ceremonies for Corny Littlepage."

"Yet, he has sense enough, feeling enough, heart enough to admire and love Mary Wallace."

"Has he told you this, so soon! But, I need not ask, as he tells his love to every one who will listen."

"And to Miss Wallace herself, I trust, among the number. The man who loves, and loves truly, should not long permit its object to remain in any doubt of his feelings and intentions. It has ever appeared to me, Miss Mordaunt, as a most base and dastardly feeling in a man to wish to be certain of a woman's returning his love, before he has the manliness to let his mistress understand his wishes. How is a sensitive female to know when she is safe in yielding her affections, without this frankness on the part of her suitor? I'll answer for it that Guert Ten Eyck has dealt thus honestly and frankly with Mary Wallace."

"That is a merit which cannot be denied him," answered Anneke, in a low, thoughtful tone of voice. "Mary has heard this from his own mouth, again and again. Even my presence has been no obstacle to his declarations, for three times have I heard him beg Mary to consider him as a suitor for her hand, and entreat her not to decide on his offer until he has had a longer opportunity to win her esteem."

"And this you will admit, Miss Mordaunt, is to his credit, is manly, and like himself?"

"It is certainly frank and honourable, Mr. Littlepage, since it enables Miss Wallace to understand the object of his attentions, and leaves nothing to doubt, or uncertainty."

"I am glad you approve of such fair and frank proceedings;—though but a moment remains to say what I wish, it will suffice to add, that the course Guert Ten Eyck has taken towards Mary Wallace, Cornelius Littlepage would wish to pursue towards Anneke Mordaunt."

Anneke started, turned pale; then showed cheeks that were suffused with blushes, and looked at me with timid surprise. She made no answer; though that earnest, yet timid gaze, long remained, and for that matter, still remains, vividly impressed upon my recollection. It seemed to express astonishment, startled sensibility, feminine bashfulness, and maiden coyness; but it did not appear to me that it expressed displeasure. There was no time, however, to ask for explanations, since the voices of Herman Mordaunt and Bulstrode were now heard at the very door, and, at the next instant, both entered the room.

[Footnote 23: The American Mayor is usually a different person from the English Mayor. Until within the last five-and-twenty or thirty years, the Mayor of New York was invariably a man of social and political importance, belonging strictly to the higher class of society. The same was true of the Mayor of Albany. At the present time, the rule has been so far enlarged, as to admit a selection from all of the more reputable classes, without any rigid adherence to the highest. The elective principle has produced the change. During the writer's boyhood, Philip Van Rensselaer, the brother of the late Patroon, was so long Mayor of Albany, as to be universally known by the sobriquet of "The Mayor."—EDITOR.]

[Footnote 24: This opinion of the constable's must refer to the notion common amongst the non-Episcopal sects, that the value of spiritual provender was to be measured by the quantity. Preaching, however, might be overdone in the Dutch Reformed Churches; for, quite within my recollection, a half-hour glass stood on the pulpit of the Dutch edifice named in the text, to regulate the dominie's wind. It was said it might be turned once with impunity; but wo betide him who should so far trespass on his people's patience as to presume to turn it twice.—EDITOR.]



CHAPTER XIV.

"My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by, With thy proudly arch'd and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye—

"Thus, thus I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains: Away! who overtakes me now, shall claim thee for his pains."

The Arab to his Steed.

Bulstrode seemed happy to meet me, complaining that I had quite forgotten the satisfaction with which all New York, agreeably to his account of the matter, had received me the past spring. Of course, I thanked him for his civility; and we soon became as good friends as formerly. In a minute or two, Mary Wallace joined us, and we all repaired to the breakfast-table, where we were soon joined by Dirck, who had been detained by some affairs of his own.

Herman Mordaunt and Bulstrode had the conversation principally to themselves for the first few minutes. Mary Wallace was habitually silent; but Anneke, without being loquacious, was sufficiently disposed to converse. This morning, however, she said little beyond what the civilities of the table required from the mistress of the house, and that little in as few words as possible. Once or twice I could not help remarking that her hand remained on the handle of a richly-chased tea-pot, after that hand had performed its office; and that her sweet, deep blue eye was fixed on vacancy, or on some object before her with a vacant regard, in the manner of one that thought intensely. Each time as she recovered from these little reveries, a slight flush appeared on her face, and she seemed anxious to conceal the involuntary abstraction. This absence of mind continued until Bulstrode, who had been talking with our host on the subject of the movements of the army, suddenly directed his discourse to me.

"I hope we owe this visit to Albany," he said, "to an intention on your part, Mr. Littlepage, to make one among us in the next campaign. I hear of many gentlemen of the colonies who intend to accompany us in our march to Quebec."

"That is somewhat farther than I had thought of going Mr. Bulstrode," was my answer, "inasmuch as I have never supposed the king's forces contemplated quite so distant a march. It is the intention of Mr. Follock and myself to get permission to attach ourselves to some regiment and to go forward as far as Ticonderoga, at least; for we do not like the idea of the French holding a post like that, so far within the limits of our own province."

"Bravely said, sir; and I trust I shall be permitted to be of some assistance when the time comes to settle details. Our mess would always be happy to see you; and you know that I am at its head, since the Lt. Colonel has left us."

I returned my thanks, and the discourse took another direction.

"I met Harris, as I was walking hither this morning," Bulstrode continued, "and he gave me, in his confused Irish way—for I insist he is Irish, although he was born in London—but he gave me a somewhat queer account of a supper he was at last night, which he said had been borne off by a foraging party of young Albanians, and brought into the barracks, as a treat to some of our gentlemen. This was bad enough, though they tell me a Dutchman always pardons such a frolic; but Harris makes the matter much worse, by adding that the supperless party indemnified itself by making an attack on the kitchen of Mr. Mayor, and carrying off his ducks and partridges, in a way to leave him without even a potatoe!"

I felt that my face was as red as scarlet, and I fancied everybody was looking at me, while Herman Mordaunt took on himself the office of making a reply.

"The story does not lose in travelling, as a matter of course," answered our host, "though it is true in the main. We all supped with Mr. Cuyler last evening, and know that he had much more than a potatoe on the table."

"All!—What, the ladies?"

"Even to the ladies—and Mr. Littlepage in the bargain," returned Herman Mordaunt, casting a glance at me, and smiling. "Each and all of us will testify he not only had a plenty of supper, but that which was good."

"I see by the general smile," cried Bulstrode, "that them is a sous entendu here, and shall insist on being admitted to the secret."

Herman Mordaunt now told the whole story, not being particularly careful to conceal the more ludicrous parts, dwelling with some emphasis on the lecture Mr. Worden had delivered to Doortje, and appealing to me to know whether I did not think it excellent. Bulstrode laughed, of course; though I fancied both the young ladies wished nothing had been said on the subject. Anneke even attempted, once or twice, to divert her father from certain comments that he made, in which he spoke rather lightly of such sort of amusements, in general.

"That Guert Ten Eyck is a character!" exclaimed Bulstrode, "and one I am sometimes at a loss to comprehend. A more manly-looking, fine, bold young fellow, I do not know; and he is often as manly and imposing in his opinions and judgments, as he is to the eye; while, at times, he is almost childish in his tastes and propensities. How do you account for this, Miss Anneke?"

"Simply, that nature intended Guert Ten Eyck for better things than accident and education, or the want of education, have enabled him to become. Had Guert Ten Eyck been educated at Oxford, he would have been a very different man from what he is. If a man has only the instruction of a boy, he will long remain a boy."

I was surprised at the boldness and decision of this opinion, for it was not Anneke's practice to be so open in delivering her sentiments of others; but, it was not long ere I discovered that she did not spare Guert, in the presence of her friend, from a deep conviction he was not worthy of the hold he was sensibly gaining on the feelings of Mary Wallace. Herman Mordaunt, as I fancied, favoured his daughter's views in this behalf; and there was soon occasion to observe that poor Guert had no other ally, in that family, than the one his handsome, manly person, open disposition, and uncommon frankness had created in his mistress's own bosom. There was certainly a charm in Guert's habitual manner of underrating himself, that inclined all who heard him to his side; and, for myself, I will confess I early became his friend in all that matter, and so continued to the last.

Bulstrode and I left the house together, walking arm and arm to his quarters, leaving Dirck with the ladies.

"This is a charming family," said my companion, as we left the door; "and I feel proud of being able to claim some affinity to it, though it is not so near as I trust it may one day become."

I started, almost twitching my arm away from that of the Major's, turning half round, at the same instant, to look him in the face. Bulstrode smiled, but preserved his own self-possession, in the stoical manner common to men of fashion and easy manners, pursuing the discourse.

"I see that my frankness has occasioned you some little surprise," he added; "but the truth is the truth; and I hold it to be unmanly for a gentleman who has made up his mind to become the suitor of a lady, to make any secret of his intentions;—is not that your own way of thinking, Mr. Littlepage?"

"Certainly, as respects the lady; and possibly, as respects her family; but not as respects all the world."

"I take your distinction, which may be a good one, in ordinary cases; though, in the instance of Anneke Mordaunt, it may be merciful to let wandering young men, like yourself, Corny, comprehend the real state of the case. I very well understand your own particular relation to the family of the Mordaunts; but others may approach it with different and more interested views."

"Am I to understand, Mr. Bulstrode, that Miss Mordaunt is your betrothed?"

"Oh! by no means; for she has not yet made up her mind to accept me. You are to understand, however, that I have proposed to Herman Mordaunt, with my father's knowledge and approbation, and that the affair is in petto. You can judge for yourself of the probable termination, being a better judge, as a looker-on, than I, as a party interested, of Anneke's manner of viewing my suit."

"You will remember I have not seen you together these ten months, until this morning; and I presume you do not wish me to suppose you have been waiting all that time for an answer."

"As I consider you an ami de famille, Corny, there is no reason why there should not be a fair statement of things laid before you, for that affair of the lion will ever render you half a Mordaunt, yourself. I had proposed to Anneke, when you first saw me, and got the usual lady-like answer that the dear creature was too young to think of contracting herself, which was certainly truer then than now; that I had friends at home who ought to be consulted, that time must be given, or the answer would necessarily be 'no', and all the usual substance of such replies, in the preliminary state of a negotiation."

"And there the matter has stood ever since?"

"By no means, my dear fellow; as far from that as possible. I heard Herman Mordaunt, for he did most of the talking on that side, with the patience of a saint, observed how proper it all was, and stated my intention to lay every thing before my father, and then advance to the assault anew, reinforced by his consent, and authority to offer settlements."

"All of which you got, by return of vessel, on writing home?" I added, unable to imagine how any man could hesitate about receiving Anneke Mordaunt for a daughter-in-law.

"Why, not exactly by return of vessel, though Sir Harry is much too well-bred to neglect answering a letter. I never knew him to do such a thing in his life; no, not when I have pushed him a little closely on the subject of my allowance having been out before the quarter was up, as will sometimes happen at college, you know, Corny. To tell you the truth, my dear boy, Sir Harry's consent did not come by return of vessel, though an answer did. It is a confounded distance across the Atlantic, and it takes time to argue a question, when the parties are 'a thousand leagues asunder.'"

"Argue!—What argument could be required to convince Sir Harry Bulstrode of the propriety of your getting Anneke Mordaunt for a wife, if you could?"

"Quite plain and sincere, upon my honour!—But, I love you for the simplicity of your character, Corny, and so shall view all favourably. If I could! Well, we shall know at the end of the approaching campaign, when you and I come back from our trip to Quebec."

"You have not answered my question, in the mean time, concerning Sir Harry Bulstrode."

"I beg Sir Harry's and your pardon. What argument could be required to convince my father?—Why, you have never been at home, Littlepage, and cannot easily understand, therefore, what the feeling is precisely in relation to the colonies—much depends on that, you know."

"I trust the mother loves her children, as I am certain the children love their mother."

"Yes, you are all loyal;—I will say that for you, though Albany is not exactly Bath, or New York, Westminster. I suppose you know, Littlepage, that the church upon the hill, yonder, which is called St. Peter's, though a very good church, and a very respectable church, with a very reputable congregation, is not exactly Westminster Abbey, or even St. James's?"

"I believe I understand you, sir; and so Sir Harry proved obstinate?"

"As the devil!—It took no less than three letters, the last of which was pretty bold, to get him round, which I did at last, and his consent, in due form, has been handed in to Herman Mordaunt. I contended, with some advantages in the affair, or I never should have prevailed. But, you will see how it was. Sir Harry is gouty and asthmatic both, and no great things of a life, at the best, and every acre he has on earth is entailed; just making the whole thing a question of time."

"All of which you communicated, of course, to Anneke and Herman Mordaunt?"

"If I did I'll be hanged! No, no; Master Corny, I am not so green as that would imply. You provincials are as thin-skinned as raisons de Fontainbleau, and are not to be touched so rudely. I do not believe Anneke would marry the Duke of Norfolk himself, if the family raised the least scruple about receiving her."

"And would not Anneke be right, in acting under so respectable a feeling?"

"Why, you know she would only marry the duke, and not his mother, and aunts, and uncles. I cannot see the necessity of a young woman's making herself uncomfortable on that account. But, we have not come to that yet for I would wish you to understand, Littlepage, that I am not accepted, No, no! justice to Anneke demands that I should say this much. She knows of Sir Harry's consent, however, and that is a good deal in my favour, you must allow. I suppose her great objection will be to quitting her father, who has no other child, and on him it will bear a little hard; and, then, it is likely she will say something about a change of country, for you Americans are all great sticklers for living in your own region."

"I do not see how you can justly accuse us of that, since it is universally admitted among us that everything is better at home than it is in the colonies."

"I really think, Corny," rejoined Bulstrode, smiling good-naturedly, "were you to pay the old island a visit, now, you yourself would confess that some things are."

"I to visit!—I am at a loss to imagine why I am named as one disposed to deny it. Had it been Guert Ten Eyck, now, or ever Dirck Follock, one might imagine such a thing,-but I, who come from English blood, and who have an English-born grandfather, at this moment, alive and well at Satanstoe, am not to be included among the disaffected to England."

Bulstrode pressed my arm, and his conversation took a more confidential air, as it proceeded. "I believe you are right, Corny," he said; "the colony is loyal enough, Heaven knows; yet I find these Dutch look on us red-coats more coldly than the people of English blood, below. Should it be ascribed to the phlegm of their manners, or to some ancient grudge connected with the conquest of their colony?"

"Hardly the last, I should think, since the colony was traded away, under the final arrangement, in exchange for a possession the Dutch now hold in South America. There is nothing strange, however; in the descendants of the people of Holland preferring the Dutch to the English."

"I assure you, Littlepage, the coldness with which we are regarded by the Albanians has been spoken of among us; though most of the leading families treat us well, and aid us all they can. They should remember that we are here to fight, their battles, and to prevent the French from overrunning them."

"To that they would probably answer that the French would not molest them, but for their quarrel with England. Here we must part, Mr. Bulstrode, as I have business to attend to. I will add one word, however, before we separate, and that is, that King George II. has not more loyal subjects in his dominions, than those who dwell in his American provinces."

Bulstrode smiled, nodded in assent, waved his hand, and we parted.

I had plenty of occupation for the remainder of that day. Yaap arrived with his 'brigade of sleighs' about noon, and I went in search of Guert, in whose company I repaired once more to the office of the contractor. Horses, harness, sleighs, provisions and all were taken at high prices, and I was paid for the whole in Spanish gold; joes and half-joes being quite as much in use among us in that day as the coin of the realm. Spanish silver has always formed our smaller currency, such a thing as an English shilling, or a sixpence, being quite a stranger among us. Pieces of eight, or dollars, are our commonest coin, it is true, but we make good use of the half-joe in all heavy transactions. I have seen two or three Bank of England notes in my day, but they are of very rare occurrence in the colonies. There have been colony bills among us, but they are not favourites, most of our transactions being carried on by means of the Spanish gold and Spanish silver, that find their way up from the islands and the Spanish main. The war of which I am now writing, however, brought a great many guineas among us, most of the troops being paid in that species of coin; but the contractors, in general, found it easier to command the half-joe than the guinea. Of the former, when all our sales were made, Dirck and myself had, between us, no less than one hundred and eleven, or eight hundred and eighty-eight dollars in value.

I found Guert just as ready and just as friendly on this occasion, as he had been on the previous day. Not only were all our effects disposed of, but all our negroes were hired to the army for the campaign, Yaap excepted. The boys went off with their teams towards the north that same afternoon, in high spirits, as ready for a frolic as any white youths in the colony. I permitted Yaap to go on with his sleigh, to be absent for a few days, but he was to return and join us before we proceeded in quest of the 'Patent,' after the breaking up of the winter.

It was late in the afternoon before everything was settled, when Guert invited me to take a turn with him on the river in his own sleigh. By this time I had ascertained that my new friend was a young man of very handsome property, without father or mother, and that he lived in as good style as was common for the simple habits of those around him. Our principal families in New York were somewhat remarkable for the abundance of their plate, table-linen, and other household effects of the latter character, while here and there one was to be found that possessed some good pictures. The latter, I have reason to think, however, were rare, though occasionally the work of a master did find its way to America, particularly from Holland and Flanders. Guert kept bachelor's hall, in a respectable house, that had its gable to the street, as usual, and which was of no great size; but everything about it proved that his old black housekeeper had been trained under a regime of thorough neatness; for that matter, everything around Albany wore the appearance of being periodically scoured. The streets themselves could not undergo that process with snow on the ground; but once beneath a roof, and everything that had the character of dirt was banished. In this particular Guert's bachelor residence was as faultless as if it had a mistress at its head, and that mistress were Mary Wallace.

"If she ever consent to have me," said Guert, actually sighing as he spoke, and glancing his eyes round the very pretty little parlour I had just been praising, on the occasion of the visit I first made to his residence that afternoon; "if she ever consent to have me, Corny, I shall have to build a new house. This is now a hundred years old, and though it was thought a great affair in its day, it is not half good enough for Mary Wallace. My dear fellow, how I; envy you that invitation to breakfast this morning! what a favourite you must be with Herman Mordaunt!"

"We are very good friends, Guert,"—for, with the freedom of our colony manners, we had already dropped into the familiarity of calling each other 'Corny' and 'Guert'—"we are very good friends, Guert," I answered, "and, I have some reason to think, Herman Mordaunt does not dislike me. It was in my power to be of a trifling service to Miss Anneke, last spring, and the whole family is disposed to remember it."

"So I can see, at a glance; even Anneke remembers it. I have heard the whole story from Mary Wallace; it was about a lion. I would give half of what I am worth, to see Mary Wallace in the paws of a lion, or any other wild beast; just to let her see that Guert Ten Eyck has a heart, as well as Corny Littlepage. But, Corny my boy, there is one thing you must do; you are in such favour, that it will be easy for you to effect it; though I might try in vain, for ever."

"I will do anything that is proper, to oblige you, Guert, for you have a claim on me for services rendered by yourself."

"Pshaw!—Say nothing of such matters; I am never happier than when buying or selling a horse; and, in helping you to get off your old cattle, why, I did the King no harm, and you some good. But, it was about horses I was thinking. You must know, Littlepage, there is not a young man, or an old man, within twenty miles of Albany, that drives such a pair of beasts as myself."

"You surely do not wish me to sell these horses to Mary Wallace, Guert!" I rejoined, laughing.

"Ay, my lad; and this house, and the old farm, and two or three stores along the river; and all I have, provided you can sell me with them. As the ladies have no present use for horses, however, Herman Mordaunt having brought up with him a very good pair, that came near running over you and me, Corny; so there is no need of any sale; but I should like to drive Mary and Anneke a turn of a few miles, with that team of mine, and in my own sleigh!"

"That cannot prove such a difficult affair; young ladies, ordinarily, consenting readily enough to be diverted with a sleigh-ride."

"The off-one carries himself more like a colonel, at the head of his regiment, than like an ignorant horse!"

"I will propose the matter to Herman Mordaunt, or to Anneke, herself, if you desire it."

"And the near-one has the movement of a lady in a minuet, when you rein him in a little. I drove those cattle, Corny, across the pine-plains, to Schenectady, in one hour and twenty-six minutes;—sixteen miles, as the crow flies—and nearer sixty, if you follow all the turnings of the fifty roads."

"Well, what am I to do? tell this to the ladies, or beg them to name a day?"

"Name a day!—I wish it had come to that. Corny, with my whole soul. They are two beauties!"

"Yes, I think everybody will admit that," I answered innocently; "yet, very different in their charms."

"Oh! not a bit more alike than is just necessary for a good match. I call one Jack, and the other Moses. I never knew an animal that was named 'Jack,' who would not do his work. I would give a great deal, Corny, that Mary Wallace could see that horse move!"

I promised Guert that I would use all my influence with the ladies, to induce them to trust themselves with his team, and, in order that I might speak with authority, the sleigh was ordered round to the door forthwith, with a view first to take a turn with me. The winter equipage of Guert Ten Eyck was really a tasteful and knowing thing. I had often seen handsomer sleighs, in the way of paint, varnish, tops and mouldings; for to these he appeared to pay very little attention. The points on which its owner most valued his sleigh, was the admirable manner in which it rested on its runners—pressing lightly both behind and before. Then the traces were nearer on a level with the horses, than was common; though not so high as to affect the draft. The colour, without, was a sky-blue; a favourite Dutch tint; while within, it was fiery-red. The skins were very ample: all coming from the grey wolf. As these skins were lined with scarlet cloth, the effect of the whole was sufficiently cheering and warm. I ought not to forget the bells. In addition to the four sets buckled to the harness, the usual accompaniment of every sort of sleigh-harness, Guert had provided two enormous strings (always leathern straps), that passed from the saddles quite down under the bodies of Jack and Moses; and another string around each horse's neck, thus increasing the jingling music of his march, at least fourfold beyond the usual quantity. [25]

In this style, then, we dashed from the door of the old Ten Eyck-house; all the blacks in the street gazing at us in delight, and shaking their sides with laughter—a negro always expressing his admiration of anything, even to a sermon, in that mode. I remember to have heard a traveller who had been as far as Niagara, declare that his black did nothing but roar with laughter, the first half-hour he stood confronted with that mighty cataract.

Nor did the blacks alone stop to admire Guert Ten Eyck, his sleigh and his horses. All the young men in the place paid Guert this homage, for he was unanimously admitted to be the best whip, and the best judge of horse-flesh, in Albany; that is, the best judge for his years. Several young women who were out in sleighs, looked behind them, as we passed, proving that the admiration extended even to the other sex. All this Guert felt and saw, and its effect was very visible in his manner as he stood guiding his spirited pair, amid the woodsleds that still crowded the main street.

Our route lay towards the large flats, that extend for miles along the west shore of the Hudson, to the north of Albany. This was the road usually taken by the young people of the place, in their evening sleigh-rides not a few of the better class stopping to pay their respects to Madame Schuyler, a widow born of the same family as that into which she had married, and who, from her character, connections and fortune, filled a high place in the social circle of the vicinity. Guert knew this lady, and proposed that I should call and pay my respects to her—a tribute she was accustomed to receive from most strangers of respectability. Thither, then, we drove as fast as my companion's blacks could carry us. The distance was only a few miles, and we were soon dashing through the open gate, into what must have been a very pretty, though an inartificial, lawn in the summer.

"By Jove, we are in luck!" cried Guert, the moment his eyes got a view of the stables: "Yonder is Herman Mordaunt's sleigh, and we shall find the ladies here!"

All this turned out as Guert had announced. Anneke and Mary Wallace had dined with Madame Schuyler, and their coats and shawls had just been brought to them, preparatory to returning home, as we entered. I had heard so much of Madame Schuyler as not to approach this respectable person without awe, and I had no eyes at first for her companions. I was well received by the mistress of the house, a woman of so large a size as to rise from her chair with great difficulty, but whose countenance expressed equally intelligence, principles, refinement and benevolence. She no sooner heard the name of Littlepage, than she threw a meaning glance towards the young female friends, mine following and perceiving Anneke colouring highly, and looking a little distressed. As for Mary Wallace she appeared to me then, as I fancied was usually the case whenever Guert Ten Eyck approached her, to be struggling with a species of melancholy pleasure.

"It is unnecessary for me to hear your mother's name, Mr. Littlepage," said Madam Schuyler, extending a hand, "since I knew her as a young woman. In her name you are welcome; as, indeed, you would be in your own, after the all-important service I hear you have rendered my sweet young friend, here."

I could only bow, and express my thanks; but it is unnecessary to say how grateful to me was praise of this sort, coming, as I knew it must, from Anneke in the first instance. Still, I could hardly refrain from laughing at Guert, who shrugged his shoulders, and turned towards me with a look that repeated his ludicrous regrets he could not see Mary Wallace in a lion's paws! The conversation then took the usual turn, and I got an opportunity of speaking to the young ladies.

After the character I had heard of Madam Schuyler, I was a good deal surprised to find that Guert was somewhat of a favourite. But even the most intellectual and refined women, I have since had occasion to learn, feel a disposition to judge handsome, manly, frank, flighty fellows like my new acquaintance, somewhat leniently. With all his levity, and his disposition to run into the excesses of animal spirits, there was that about Guert which rendered it difficult to despise him. The courage of a lion was in his eye, and his front and bearing were precisely those that are particularly attractive to women. To these advantages were added a seeming unconsciousness of his superiority to most around him, in the way of looks, and a humility of spirit that caused him often to deplore his deficiencies in those accomplishments which characterize the man of study and of intellectual activity. It was only among the hardy, active, and reckless, that Guert manifested the least ambition to be a leader.

"Do you still drive those spirited blacks, Guert," demanded Madam Schuyler, in a gentle, affable way, that inclined her to adapt her discourse to the tastes of those she might happen to be with; "those, I mean, which you purchased in the autumn?"

"You may be certain of that, aunt,"—every one who could claim the most distant relationship to this amiable woman, and whose years did not render the appellation disrespectful, called her "aunt"—"you may be certain of that, aunt, for their equals are not to be found in this colony. The gentlemen of the army pretend that no horse can be good that has not what they call blood; but Jack and Moses are both of the Dutch breed, and the Schuylers and the Ten Eycks will never own there is no "blood" in such a stock. I have given each of these animals my own name, and call them Jack Ten Eyck and Moses Ten Eyck."

"I hope you will not exclude the Littlepages and the Mordaunts from your list of dissenters, Mr. Ten Eyck," observed Anneke, laughing, "since both have Dutch blood in their veins, too."

"Very true, Miss Anneke; Miss Wallace being the only true, thorough, Englishwoman here. But, as Aunt Schuyler has spoken of my team, I wish I could persuade you and Miss Mary to let me drive you back to Albany with it, this very evening. Your own sleigh can follow and your father's horses being English, we shall have an opportunity of comparing the two breeds. The Anglo-Saxons will have no load, while the Flemings will; still I will wager animal against animal, that the last do the work the most neatly, and in the shortest time."

To this proposition, however, Anneke would not consent; her instinctive delicacy, I make no doubt, at once presenting to her mind the impropriety of quitting her own sleigh, to take an evening's drive in that of a young man of Guert's established reputation for recklessness and fun, and who was not always fortunate enough to persuade young women of the first class to be his companions. The turn the conversation had taken, nevertheless, had the effect to produce so many urgent appeals, that were seconded by myself, to give the horses a trial, that Mary Wallace promised to submit the matter to Herman Mordaunt, and, should he approve, to accompany Guert, Anneke and myself, in an excursion the succeeding week.

This concession was received by poor Guert with profound gratitude; and he assured me, as we drove back to town, that he had not felt so happy for the last two months.

"It is in the power of such a young woman—young angel, I might better say," added Guert, "to make anything she may please of me! I know I am an idler, and too fond of our Dutch amusements, and that I have not paid the attention I ought to have paid to books; but let that precious creature only take me by the hand, and I should turn out an altered man in a month. Young women can do anything they please with us, Mr. Littlepage, when they set their minds about it in earnest. I wish I was a horse, to have the pleasure of dragging Mary Wallace in this excursion!"

[Footnote 25: As it is possible this book may pass into the hands of others than Americans, it maybe well to say that a sleigh-bell is a small hollow ball, made of bell-metal, having a hole in it that passes round half of its circumference, and containing a small solid ball, of a size not to escape. These bells are fastened to leathern straps, which commonly pass round the necks of the horses. In the time of Guert Ten Eyck, most of the bells were attached to small plates, that were buckled to various parts of the harness; but, as this caused a motion annoying to the animals, Mr. Littlepage evidently wishes his readers to understand that his friend, Ten Eyck, was too knowing to have recourse to the practice. Even the straps are coming into disuse, the opinion beginning to obtain that sleigh-bells are a nuisance, instead of an advantage. Twenty years since, the laws of most large towns rendered them necessary, under the pretence of preventing accidents by apprising the footman of the approach of a sleigh; but more horses are now driven, in the state of New York, without than with bells, in winter.

"Sleigh," as spelt, is purely an American word. It is derived from "slee," in Dutch; which is pronounced like "sleigh." Some persons contend; that the Americans ought to use the old English words "sled," or: "sledge." But these words do not precisely express the things we possess. There is as much reason for calling a pleasure conveyance by a name different from "sled," as there is for saying "coach" instead of "wagon." "Sleigh" will become English, ere long, as it is now American. Twenty millions of people not only can make a word, but they can make a language, if it be needed.—EDITOR.]



CHAPTER XV.

"When lo! the voice of loud alarm His inmost soul appals: What ho! Lord William, rise in haste! The water saps thy walls!"