Daughters of the Revolution and Their Times Part 15

"I remember, Miss Newville, that you once graciously served me at an afternoon tea; shall I have the pleasure of waiting upon you?" Robert asked.

"I shall be pleased to be served by you. The fresh air has sharpened my appet.i.te, and I will begin with a plate of beans, if you please."

He brought what she desired, served himself, and took a chair by her side. They talked of the successful launching, of the beauty of the ship, sitting as gracefully as a swan upon the water, of the almost perfect likeness of the figurehead to Berinthia.

"Possibly it is so beautiful because the engraver's heart has gone into it," she said with a smile.

Their eyes met. He thought hers very beautiful at the moment.

Roger Stanley found equal pleasure in serving Rachel, and in listening to what she had to say about the launching, her visit to Boston, and of things in Rumford.

Robert talked with Isaac Coffin, who said he expected to have a commission in his majesty's navy. Admiral Montague was very kind, and was using his influence to secure an appointment. His younger brother, John, liked the army better. Robert came to the conclusion that they were not Sons of Liberty, but were inclined to take sides with the ministry, which was very natural, as their father was holding a very important office under the crown.

There was a merry chattering of voices, a rattling of knives and forks, and changing of plates. Mark Antony was master of ceremonies at the table, giving directions to Caesar and Pompey.

Although society was divided politically, neighbors still were friends, accepting and giving hospitality, and when meeting socially avoiding all allusion to the proposed bill for taxing the Colonies.

All hoped that nothing would be done by Parliament to interrupt friendly relations between the Colonies and the mother country. Doctor Warren made himself agreeable to bluff Admiral Montague. William Molineux cracked jokes with Colonel Dalrymple. Richard Dana and Nathaniel Coffin were friendly neighbors. Mr. Dana could look out from his front windows near Frog Lane,[34] and see the s.p.a.cious grounds of his neighbor Coffin's "Fields," as the boys who played ball called it. There was no reason why they should be at odds socially, just because Lord North and the king proposed to levy a tax of three pence a pound on tea.

[Footnote 34: Frog Lane extended from Newbury, now Washington Street, to the Common. It is now a part of Boylston Street. Mr. Dana's house commanded an extensive view across the fields, gardens, and orchards owned by Nathaniel Coffin, south of the present Summer Street.]

With story and jest the company enjoyed the banquet and then were rowed to the sh.o.r.e, all shaking hands with Berinthia and congratulating her upon the successful launching of the vessel bearing her name.

"What can we do to round out the day for you, dear?"

It was Miss Newville addressing Berinthia.

"I don't know; what can we?" was the reply.

"How would you like a sleigh-ride?" Robert asked.

"Delightful!" exclaimed Miss Newville.

"Jenny and the colt are rested, and if you don't mind riding in a pung, I shall be pleased to take a little spin out of town."

"Oh, it will be so charming! I would rather go in a pung than in a sleigh; it is more romantic," Miss Newville said.

It was quickly arranged. Robert went to the Green Dragon, put new straw in the pung, and was soon back with the team. They were eight in number and quickly seated themselves. It was natural that Berinthia and Abraham Duncan, who had put his heart into his work while carving her features, should sit side by side, and that Tom Brandon and Mary Shrimpton should desire to be tucked under the same bearskin. It was a pleasure to Roger Stanley to ask Miss Walden to keep him company.

"They have decided, Mr. Walden, that we shall sit together," Miss Newville said as she stepped into the pung.

"I shall regard it an honor to have your company," was the reply.

When all were ready, the horses set the sleigh-bells jingling. Farmers plodding home from the market gave them the road, and smiled as they listened to the merry laughter. They went at a brisk trot over the Neck leading to Roxbury, and turned to the left, taking the Dorchester road. At times the horses came to a walk, but at a chirrup from Robert quickened their pace, the colt throwing s...o...b..a.l.l.s into Miss Newville's face.

"You must excuse him, Miss Newville; he is young, and has not learned to be polite," Robert said, apologizing for the animal.

They gained the highlands of Dorchester, from whence they could overlook the harbor and its islands, and see the lighthouse rising from its rocky foundation, with the white surf breaking around it. A ship which had left Charles River with the ebbing tide had reached Nantasket Roads, and was spreading its sails for a voyage across the sea.

"So the Berinthia will soon be sailing," said Miss Newville, "and we shall all want to keep track of her; and whenever we read of her coming and going we shall all recall this delightful day, made so enjoyable for us this morning by Berinthia and so charming this afternoon by your kindness."

She turned her face towards Robert. The afternoon sun was illumining her countenance. He had seen in Mr. Henchman's bookstall a beautiful picture of a Madonna. Mr. Knox told him it was a steel engraving from a picture painted by the great artist Raphael, and Robert wondered if the countenance was any more lovely than that which looked up to him at the moment.

They were riding towards the Milton Hills. The woodman's axe had left untouched the oaks, elms, maples, and birches; they were leafless in midwinter, but the pines and hemlocks were green and beautiful upon its rocky sides. The purple sky, changing into gold along the western horizon, the white robe of winter upon hill and dale, the windows of farmhouses reflecting the setting sun, made the view and landscape of marvelous beauty. Descending the hill, they came to the winding Neponset River, and rode along its banks beneath overhanging elms. The bending limbs, though leafless, were beautiful in their outlines against the sky. Turning westward, they reached the great road leading from Boston to Providence.

"We might go to Dedham, but I think we had better turn back towards Roxbury, let the horses rest a bit at the Greyhound Tavern, and have supper,"[35] said Tom, who was well acquainted with the road.

[Footnote 35: The Greyhound was a much frequented tavern in Roxbury, with the figure of a greyhound upon its sign. It was in this tavern that the repeal of the Stamp Act was celebrated, 1767. Convivial parties were courteously entertained by the accommodating landlord.]

The sun had gone down when they whirled up to the tavern, whose swinging sign was ornamented with a rude picture of a greyhound. A bright fire was blazing in the parlor. They laid aside their outer garments and warmed themselves by its ruddy glow. The keen, fresh air had sharpened their appet.i.tes for supper. Chloe and Samson, cook and table-waiter, served them with beefsteak hot from the gridiron, swimming in b.u.t.ter; potatoes roasted in the ashes; shortcake steaming hot from the Dutch oven.

"Shall I brew Bohea, Hyson, or Hyperion[36] tea," the landlady asked, beginning with Miss Newville and glancing at each in turn.

[Footnote 36: Strawberry and other domestic teas were called by the high-sounding name, Hyperion.]

"I will take Hyperion," Miss Newville replied, with a tact and grace that made her dearer than ever to Berinthia, and to them all, knowing as they did that Bohea and Hyson were still served in her own home.

Supper over, they returned to the parlor, where the bright flame on the hearth was setting their shadows to dancing on the walls. The feet of Mary Shrimpton were keeping time to the ticking of the clock.

"Why can't we have a dance?" she asked.

"Why not?" all responded.

"I'll see if we can find Uncle Brutus," said Tom.

Uncle Brutus was the white-haired old negro who did ch.o.r.es about the tavern.

"Yes, ma.s.sa, I can play a jig, quickstep, minuet, and reel. De ladies and genmen say I can play de fiddle right smart," Brutus responded, rolling his eyes and showing his well-preserved white teeth.

"If de ladies and genmen will wait a little till old Brutus can make himself 'spectable, he'll make de fiddle sing."

While the old negro was getting ready to entertain them with his violin, they proposed conundrums and riddles and narrated stories.

There came at length a gentle rap on the door, and Brutus, with high standing collar, wearing a cast-off coat given him by his master, his round-bowed spectacles on the tip of his nose, entered the room, bowing very low. He took his stand in one corner and tuned his violin.

The chairs and light-stand were removed to the hall.

"De ladies and genmen will please choose pardners for de minuet," said Brutus.

The choosing had been already done; the partners were as they had been. After the minuet came the reel and quickstep, danced with grace and due decorum.

The hour quickly flew. The horses had finished their provender and were rested. Once more they were on the road, not riding directly homeward, but turning into cross-roads to Jamaica Pond, where the boys were gliding over the gleaming ice on their skates. They had kindled fires which lighted up the surrounding objects, the dark foliage of pines and hemlocks, and the branches of the leafless elms and maples growing on the banks of the pond.

The full moon was shining in their faces as they rode homeward. The evening air was crisp, but the hot supper and the merry dance had warmed their blood. The jingling of the sleigh-bells and their joyous laughter made the air resonant with music.

At times the horses lagged to a walk, and Robert could let the reins lie loose and turn his face toward Miss Newville. Her eyes at times looked up to his. He could feel her arm against his own. The violet hood leaned towards him as if to find a resting-place. To Robert Walden and to Ruth Newville alike never had there been such a night, so full of beauty, so delightful.

The horses came to a standstill at last by the entrance to the Newville mansion.

"This has been the most enjoyable day of my life," Miss Newville said, as Robert gave her his hand to a.s.sist her from the pung.