The golden Christmas
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ]GOLDEN CHRISTMAS: A CHRONICLE OF ST, JOHN'S, BERKELEY. COMPILED FPOM THE NOTES OF A BRIEFLESS BARRS BY THE AUTHOR OV "THE YEMASSEE G " GUY RIVERS," KATHARINE WALTON9 ETCO CHARLESTON: WALKER, RICHARDS AND CO. 1852. & page: 0[View Page 0] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 182 by W, GILMORE sMMS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of South-Carolina. ORARLESTON: STEAM POWER-PRESS OF WALKER AND JAMES 10i, 103 and!05 East Bay. THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. CHAPTER I. A DOUBTFUL CASE OF LOVE ON THE TAPIS. IT was during that premature spell of cold weather which we so unseasonably had this year in October,- angpating our usual winter by a full month or more,-cutting o' the cotton crop a fourth, and forcing us into our winter garments long before they I were ordered from the tailor,--when, one morning, as I stood shiv- i ering before the glass, and clumsily striving, with numbed fingers, to adjust my cravat a la lnceud Gordien,-my friend, Ned Bul- mer, burst into my room, looking as perfect an exquisite. as Beau Brummell himself. He was in the gayest clothes and spirits, a thousand times more exhilarated than- usual-and Ned is one of those fellows upon whom care sits uneasily, whom, indeed, care seldom sets upon at all! He laughed at my shiverings and awkwardness, seized the ends of my handkerchief, and, with the readiest fingers in the world, and in the most perfect taste, adjust- ed the folds of the cravat, and looped them up into a rose beneath Wmy chin, in the twinkling of an eye, and to my own perfect satis- faction. "That done," said he,-" what have you now for breakfast?' A bachelor's breakfast is not uncommonly an extempore per- Ormance. I, myself, really knew not what was in the larder, or hat my cook was about to provide. But this ignorance occa- ioned no difficulty. I knew equally well my guest and cook. page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] 4 TEH GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "There is doubtless quite enough for two moderate fellows like ourselves. Let us descend to the breakfast room and see." "I warn you," said he, "I am no moderate fellow at this mo- ment. I am hungry as a Cumanche. I was out late last night at the house of that starched framework of moral buckram, the widow and got no supper. Her fieezing ladyship seems to fancy that she provides well enough when she'surfeits every body with her own dignity; and, though there was a regular party,-a ; monstrous re-union of town and country cousins,-yet, would you believe it, except the tea service at eight o'clock, cakes and crum- pets, and such like unsubstantial stuffs, we got not a mouthful all the evening! Yet, in momentary expectation of it, every body hung on till twelve o'clock. The case appearing then perfectly des- perate, and the stately hostess becoming more freezingly dignified than ever, people began to disappear. The old ladies lingered to ,the last, and then went off breathing curses, not loud but deep 1 Old Mrs. F was terribly indignant. I helped her to the car-! riage. 'Did you,' said she, ' ever see such meanness? I wonder if she thinks people come to her parties only to see her in her last Parisian dresses? And that we should stay till twelve o'clock and get nothing after all! Let her invite me again, and she shall have an answer.' 'Why what will you say .' said I. ' What will I say?' said she. ' rI'll tell her yes, I'll come, provided she'll allow me to bring my supper with me.' it 'And she'll be very sure to do it too,' said I: 'she's just the i woman for it.'" " "I shall not quarrel with her if she does. I calculated some- thing on the supper myself, took no tea, and was absolutely fam- ished. I was so hungry that, but for the distance, and my weari- ness, I should have driven down to Baker's, and surfeited myself upon Yankee oysters. \You see now why I am so solicitous oh the subject of the sort of breakfast you pcan provide." "Faith, Ned," said I, "one might reasonably ask, why, being A DOUBTFUL CASE OF LOVE ON THE TAPIS. 5 so monstrous hungry, you should yet Sally forth on an empty stomach! Why didn't you get breakfast at home? Why come tosponge upon a needy bachelor, and without due warning given of the savage character of your appetite?" 'Oh you penurious monster! You are as stingy as Madame D c. :1But, confound you! Do you think it is your break- fast, in particular, that I am in searchof? Let me quiet your sus- picions. Iungry as I am, I have a much more important quest in seeking you, and came as soon as I could, in order to catch you before you should go out this morning. I slept so late, that, when I sprang out of my bed and looked at my watch, I found I hadn't a moment to lose. So I took the chance of securing you and my breakfast by the same operation. Thus am I here and hungry. Are you satisfied?" * "Quite! But what's in the wind now, that you must see me in such a hurry. No quarrel on hand, I trust." "No - no! Thank God! It is Venus not Mars, aj this season of the year, to whom I address my prayers. It is an affair of the heart, not of pistols. But to the point. Have you any engage- ments to-day? I am in need of you." . . "None!" with the natural sigh of a young lawyer, whose de- sires are more numerous than his clients, and whose hopes are always more magnificent than his fees. "Good! Then you must serve me, as you can, efficiently. You alone can do it. You must know, then, t]at Paula Bonneau is in town with her grandmother. They came yesterday, and may leave to-morow. They are hurried; I don't know why. I heard of them last night at Dame D, c's. They would have been present, and were at first expected; but sent an excuse on the plea of fatigue." "And did not accordingly-we may suppose-go supperless to bed. But what have I to do in this matter? 'What's Hecuba to x . . page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] 6 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. me, or I to Hecuba?' Iou surely don't design that I should take Paula off, your hands." "Off my hands, indeed. No! no! mon ami! I wish you rather to assist in putting her into them."' "Humph! not so easy a matter. But how did you hear of their movements and arrangements?" "From Monimia Porcher! The dear little creature gave me a world of news last night, and promises me every assistance. But she is not a favourite with our grandmother, as you know, and con- sequently can render me, directly, no great assistance. But you can" "Prithee how?" "' I have sent word to Paula by Monimia that I will call upon her at ten. I know that she and the old lady are to go out shop- ping at eleven. Now, you will call with me. You are a favourite with the grandmother, and you are to keep her off. I want to get every possible opportunity; for I am now determined to push the affair to extremities. I won't take it as I have done. I shall bring all parties to terms this season, or keep no terms with them hereafter." "What! You persist, knowing all your father's anti-Gallican opinions -his prejudices, inherited for a hundred years!" "In spite of all! His prejudices are only inherited. They must be overcome! They are surely nonsensical enough. He hlas no right to indulge them at the expense of my happiness." "To which you really think Paula necessary?" "Can you doubt! I am a rough dog, you know; but I have a heart, Dick, as you also know; and I doubt if I could ever feel such a passion for any other woman as I feel for Paula." "She is certainly a rare and lovely creature. I am half inclined to take her myself." "Don't think of it, you Turk! Content yourself with dream- ing of Beatrice Mazyck. I'll help you in that quarter, mon ami, A DOUBTFUL CASE OF LOVE ON THE TAPIS. t and so will Paula. And she can! They are bosom friends, you know." "But, Ned, her grandmother is quite as hostile to the English Bulmer tribe, as your father is to the Huguenot Bonneaus. You have a double prejudice to overcome." "Not so! It is the'old lady's pride only, that, piqued at the openly avowed prejudices of my family, asserts its dignity by op- position. Let my father once be persuaded to relax, and we shall thaw the old lady. She is devotedly attached to Paula, and, I believe, she thinks well enough of me; and would have no sort of -objection, but for the old antipathy to my name." "You are so sanguine!---Well! I'm ready to-help as you re- quire. What is the programmed . , "You must secure me opportunities for a long talk with Paula alone. You must keep off the dragon. I am prepared to brave - every thing-all my father's prejudices-and will do so, if I can only persuade her to make some corresponding sacrifice for me. I am now tolerably independent. In January, my mother'sprop- erty comes into my hands; and, though it does not make me rich, it enables me to snap my fingers in the face of fate I am resolved to incur every risk, at all events. Paula, too, is a fear- less little creature; and, though wonderfully submissive to the whims of her grandmother, I feel sure thtt she will not sacrifice herself and me to them in a matter so essential to our mutual happiness. Things are looking rather more favourable than usual. 'There have been occasional meetings of the two families. The old lady and my father even had a civil conversation at the last tournament;s and he has resolved upon a sort of feudal entertain- 'lnt, this Christmas, which shall bring together the whole neigh- bourhood,-at least for a day or two. You are to be there: so he requires me to say, and his guest, of course, while in the parish. You must do your endeavour for me while there. It will not be .I . '. -X^% F.. ^ , h- ' ^ .' # page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] 8 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. my fault, if the season shall pass without being properly improved. Love has made me Somewhat desperate." "Beware, lest your rashness should los9 you all. Your father's prejudices are inveterate." "I think not. They begin to soften. He begins to feel that he is getting dlder, and-he becomes more amiable accordingly. He talks old prejudices rather than feels them. -It is a habit with him now, rather than a feeling. He barks, like the old dog, but the teeth are no longer in capacity to bite. For that matter, his bark was always worse than his bite. What he says of the Hu-: guenots is only what his grandfather said and thought. Without I the same animosity, he deems it a sort of family duty, to maintain ] the old British bull-dog attitude, as if to show that his blood has undergone no deterioration. In respect to Paula, herself, he said, at the last tournament, that she was really a lovely little creature, and regretted that she was, of that soup maigre French stock. There are sundry other little favourable symptoms which seem to show me that he is growing reasonable and indulgent." Here, we were signalledto breakfast, and our dialogue, on this subject, was suspended for awhile. CHAPTER II. A BACHELOR'S BREAKFAST. IT is not often that our fair readers are admitted to the myste- lieus domain which entertains a bachelor as its sovereign. They fancy, the dear conceited little creatures, that such a province is a very desolate one. They delude themselves with the vain notion that, without the presence of some one or more of their mischie- vously precious sex, a house, or garden, is scarcely habitable; and that man, in such an abode, is perpetually sighing for some such !I I A BACHELOR'S BREAKFAST. 9 change as the tender sex only can impart. They look upon as quite orthodox, the language of Mr. Thomas Campbell, who sings-. "The garden was a wild, And man, the hermit, sigh'd, till woman smiled." But this is all vanity and delusion. We no where have any testi- mony that the condition of Adam was thus disconsolate, before Eve was stolen from his side, in order that she should steal to his side. * This is all a mistake. Adam did very well as a gardener, and quite as well as a housekeeper, long before Eve was assigned him as a helpmate, and was very comfortable in his sovereignty alone. We know what evil consequences happened to his house- keeping after she came into it, and what sort of counsellors she entertained. Let it not, therefore, be supposed that we bachelors can not contrive to get on, with our affairs exclusively under our own management. I grant that there is a difference; but the question occurs, 'Is this difference for the worse in our case?' Hardly! There is, confessedly, no such constant putting torights, as we always find going on in the households of married men. But that is because there is no such need of putting to rights. There is previously no such putting to wrongs, in such a house- hold. There, every thing goes on like -clockwork. There is less' parade, I grant you; but there's no such fuss! Less neatness; but no jarrings with the servants. To the uninitiated eye, things appear in exemplary confusion; but the solitary head of the household can extract order from this confusion at any moment. It is a maze, but not without a plan. You will chafe, because there is a want of neatness; but then our bachelor has quiet. Ah! but you say, how lonesome it looks! But the answer is ready. The bachelor is not, nevertheless, the inhabitant of a solitude. His domain is peopled. with pleasant thoughts and sweet visitors, and, if he be a student, with sublime ones. He converses with great minds, unembarrassed by the voices of little ones. He communes with master spirits in antique books. These counsel page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. and teach him, without ever disputing what he says and thinks. They fill, and instruct his soul, without vexing his self-esteem. They bring music to his chamber, without troubling his ears with noise. But, you say, he has none of the pleasures which spring from his communion with children. You say that the association with the young keeps the heart young; and you say rightly. But the bachelor answers and says--if he has no children of his own, he sees enough of his neighbours. They climb his fences, pilfer his peaches, pelt his dog, and, as Easter approaches, break into his fowl-yards and carry off his fiesh eggs. Why should he seek for children of his own, when his neighbours' houses are so prolific? I He could give you a long discourse, in respect to the advantages of single blessedness,-that is, in the case of the man. In that of the woman, the, affair is more difficult and doubtful. He is not prepared to deny that she ought to get married whenever she can i find the proper victim. To sum up, in brief, he goes and comes when he pleases, without dreading a feminine authority. He . takes his breakfast at his own hours, and dines when in the hu- i mour, and takes his ease at his inn. His sleep is undisturbed by unpleasant fancies. - He is never required to rise at night, no mat- ter how cold the weather, to see that the children are covered, or t to warm the baby's posset. .Never starts with horror, and a chil- ling shiver, at every scream, lest Young Hopeful, the boy, or Young Beauty, the girl, has tumbled down stairs, bruizing nosbe, or breaking leg or arm; and, if he stays out late o'nights, never sneaks home, with unmanly terrors, dreading to hear no good of I himself when he gets there. At night, purring, in grateful reve- lie, by his fireside, he makes pictures in his ignited coals, which ! exhilarate his fancy. His cat sleeps on the hearth lrug, confident S of her master, and never dreading the broomstick of the always g officious chambermaid; and the ancient wonman who makes up his bed, and prepares his breakfast, appears before him like one of A a A BACHELOR9S BREAKFAST,. " those seeming old hags of the fairy talq who turn out to be princesses and good spirits 'in homely disguise." "See now," said I to Ned Bulmer, as Tabitha the cook brought in the breakfast things. "See now, the -instance, Tabitha is not comely. Far from it. Tabitha. never was comely, even in the days of her youth. Her nose is decidedly African, prononcd after the very worst models. Her mouth, a spacious apeirture at first, has so constantly worked upon its hinges for fifty-six years, that the lips have lost their elasucityxar the valves remain apart, open in-all weathers. Her entire face i;f this fashion. She looks like one of the ugly men-*omen, black and bearded, such as they collect on the heath, amidst thunder and lightning, for the en- counter with Macheth. Yet, at a word, Tabitha will uncover the dishes, and enable us, like the old lary in the fairy -legend, to fil our mouths with good things. Such is the bachelor's fairy. Take my word for it, Ned, there's no life like that of a bachelor. Con- tinue one, if you are wise. Paula Bonneau is, no doubt, a de- lightful little picture of mortality and mischief. But so was Pai- dora. She has beauty, and sweetness, and many virtues, but she will fill the house with cares, every' one of which has a fearful faculty of reduplication. Be a bachelor as long as you can, and when the inevitable fate wills it otherwise, provide yourself with all facilities for dying decently. Coffee, Tabitha." Such was the rambling exordium which I delivered to my friend, rather with the view of discouraging his anticipations than because I really entertained any such opinions. He answered me in a huff. "Pshaw! what nonsense is all this! Don't I know that if you could get Beatrice Mazyck to-morrow, you'd change your blessed bachelorhood into the much abused wedlock." Fate may do much worse things for -me, Ned, I grant you." It is some grace in- you to)admit even so little. But don't you speak again, even in sport, so disrespectfully of the marriage you speak again, '. i. page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 tiE GOL)tEN CIaRSTfAS 'I condition. Don't I know the cheerlessness of yours.- Talk of your books and ancient philosophers! don't I know that you are frequently in the mood' to throw them into the fire; and, even while you sit over it, the reveries which you find so delicious, are those which picture to you another form, of the other gender,: sit- ting opposite you, with eyes smiling in your own, and sweet lips responding at intervals to all the fondest protestations which you can utter. Tabitha, indeed! I verily believe the old crea- ture, though faithful and devoted to you, grows sometimes hateful in your eyes, as reminding you of her sex in the most disagreeable manner;-a manner quite in discord to such fancies as your own thoughts have conjured up. Isn't it so, Tabitha? Isn't Ned sometimes monstrous cross, and sulky to you, only because you haven't some young mistress, Tabitha F?" "I 'spec so, Mass Ned: he sometime mos' sick 'cause he so lonesome yer. I tell um so. - I say, wha' for, Mass Dick, you no get you'se'f young wife for make your house comfortable, and keep you company yer, in dis cold winter's a'coming. I 'spec its only 'cause he can't git de pusson he want." "True, every word of it, Tab! But never you mind. You'll be surprised some day Kwith another sort of person overlooking your housekeeping. What do you think, Tabitha, of Miss Bea- trice Mazyck." "Hush, Ned!" "She's a mighty fine young pusson, and a purty one too. 1 don't tink I hab any 'jection to Miss Beatrice." "Very well! You're an accommodating old lady. She'll be the one, be sure of it. So keep the house in order. You'll be taken by surprise. Then we shall see very different arrangements in the housekeeping here, Tabby. Do you'suppose that she'd let Dick lie abed till nine o'clock in the morning, andt up, smoking and drinking, till midnight?" "Nebber, in dis world, Mass Ned." A BACIELORBS BIRtEAKFAS&T 18T ' "And, if the power is with her, never in the next, Tabitha, Then, do you think she'd suffer a pack of fellows to be singing through the house at -all hours-and such singing, and such songs." ' "Nebber guine le' um come, Mass Ned. Him no e 'courage dis racket yet at all hours. I tell you for true, Mass Ned, dis house, sometime, aint 'spectable for people to lib in.- You no know what de young gentlemens do here at night, keeping me up for make coffee for um, sometime mos' tell to-morrow morning." "It's perfectly shocking, Tabitha. She'll never suffer it." ," Nebber, Mass Ned." p "Then, Tabby, do you think she'd let these tables and chairs be so dusty, that a gentleman can't sit in them without cover- ing his garments with dust as from a meal bag." "Sure, Mass Ned, I brush off de tables and chairs ebbry morn- ing." And, saying this, the old woman began wiping off chairs and tables with her apron. "But she'll see it done after a different fashion, Tabitha. She'll have you up at cock crow, old lady, putting the house to rights." v "Hemw! I 'spec she will hab for git young sarbant den, for you see Mass Ned, dese old bones have de rheumatiz in dem!' "Not a bit of it, old lady. A young wife has no pity on old bones. She'll .make you stir your stumps, if you never did before. She will neyer part with you, Tabitha. She knows your value. She knows how Dick values you. She will have no other servant than you. You'll have to do everything, Tabby, even to nursing the children. And, between you and her, the old house will grow young again. It will make you happy, I'm, sure, to see it fall of young people, and plenty of company, looking quite smart always; always full of bustle and pleasure; every body busy;n6Ae idle; not a moment of time, so that, when you lie down at midnight, to rouse up at daylight, you'll sleep as sound as if you were in heaven." 2 page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] 1 4 THE GOLDEN CIItRSTMA,. "I don't tink, Mass Ned, I kin stan' sich life as dat. De fa' is, Mass Dick is berry comfortable jist now, as he stan'. He aint got no trouble. He know me, and I knows him. I don't see wha' for he want to get wife. I nebber yer him say he's oncom- ortable." "Ha! ha! ha! The tune rather changes, Tabitha. But this house, as it is, is quite too- dull for both you and your master. 5When Beatrice Mazyck comes home, you'll have music. She will waken up the day with song, like a bird. She will put the day to sleep with song. You'll have fine times, Tabby-music, and dancing, and life and play." "Wha's people guine do for sleep, Mass Ned, all dis timed People must hab sleep." The old woman spoke this sharply. Ned laughed gaily, beck- oned for another cup of coffee, and the ancient housekeeper was for the moment dismissed. "You have effectually cured her of any desire for a mistress,' said I. "See how opinion changes," quoth Ned,--" yet Tabitha is no bad sample of the world at large, white and black. i Our opinions shape themselves wonderfully to suit our selfishness.-Dick, pass me those waffles." I suppose there is hardly any need to describe a bachelori breakfast. O(urs was not a bad one. Coffee' and waffles, sardines and boiled eggs,-to say nothing of a bottle of Sauterne, to which I confined .myself, eschewing coffee in autumn-lthese ,/ere the chief commodities. The table, I must do Tabitha the justice to declare, was well spread, with a perfeatly white cloth, and the edibles served up, well cooked and with a clean and neat arrange- ment. Edward Bulmer soon satisfied his wolfish appetite, and, when the things were removed, it was after nine o'clock. His buggy was already at the door. We adjusted ourselves, and hav- ing an hour to consume, went over all the affairs of the parish, of ^ "' ' * - . { ' ' KING-STREET SHOPPING, AND SHARP SHOOTING. 15 which he had recently informed himself. Now, as every body ; knows, St. John's is one of the most polished; hospitable, and in- I .telligent of all the parishes in the low country of South-Carolina; and the subject, to one like myself who knew it well, and who had not been thither for a long time, was a very attractive one. On ! Ned's account, also, I was desirous of being well informed in all : particulars, that none of the proper clues might be wanting to my j hands, while conversing with Paula's granddame. The hour i passed rapidly, conning these and other matters, and ten o'clock ' found us punctually at the entrance of the Mansion House. - Our cards were sent in, and, in a few moments, we were in the parlour of that establishment, and in the presence of the fair Paulaj and her stately, but excellent granddame, Mrs. ,or, considering. the race, I should probably say, Madame Agnes-Theresa Girardin. CHAPTER III, KING-STREET SHOPPING, AND SHARP SHOOTING. PAULA BONNEAU was as lovely a little brunette as the eye ever rested upon with satisfaction. , Her cheek glowed with the warm fires of Southern youth; her eye flashed like our joyous sunlight; her mouth inspired just th6 sort of emotion which one feels at seeing a new and most delicious fiuit imploring one to feed and be!appy; while her brow, full and lofty, and contrasting with voluminous masses of raven hair, indicated a noble and intellec- tual nature, which the' general expression of her face did- not con- tradict. That was a perfect oval, and of the most, perfect sym- metry. The nose, by the way, was aquiline, a somewhat curious feature in such a development, but perfectly consistent with the bright eagle-darting glances of her eye. Paula was, indeed, a page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] T16 . -- - THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. beauty, but I frankly confess quite too petite for my taste. Still, ] could admire her, as a beautiful study,-nay, knowing the amia- ble and sgperior traits of her heart and character, I could love the little creature also. She was, in truth, a most loveable little being, and, though she- did not inspire me with any ardent attach- ment--perhaps, for the sufficient reason that I had fixed my glances on another object-still, I felt no surprise at the passion with which she stirred the blood in the bosom of my friend. The contrast between herself, and her stately grand-dame, was prodigious. One could hardly suppose that the two owed their origin to a similar stock. Madame Girardin was tall beyond the ordinary standards of woman, and very disproportionately slender for hep height. 'She was one of those gaunt and ghostly-looking personages, who compel you to think of fierce birds of prey, such as haunt the shores of unknown rivers or oceans, with enormous long limbs, long beaks, red heads, and possibly yellow legs. Her nose was long like her limbs, and tapered down to a point like a spear head. Her lips were thin and compressed. She could not well be said to show her' teeth, whatever might be the fierceness of her looks in general. Her eyes were keeianid ;lack, her eye brows thick, furzy and pretty well grizzled, while her locks were long, thin, grizzled lso,--and permitted ratheb snakily to hang about her temples. The dear old grandmother was decidedly no beauty; but she was noble of spirit, high-toned, and of that ster- ling virtue and stern character, which constituted so large a por- tion of our female capital in preceding generations. She had her faults, no doubt, but she was a brave-souled, and generous wo- man. Her great weakness was her family ride-- vanity, perhaps, we should call it-which made her overrate- the claims of her own stock, and correspondingly disparage those of most other house- holds. Like many other good people, who have otherwise very good common sense, she really persuaded herself that there was some secret virtue in her blood that made her very unlike, and ---- *^^ ^urALrLrs x IOXJVr AND SHARP SHOOTOI , 17 J very superior to other people. Like the Hidalgos, she set a pro- digious value upon the genuine blue blood-perhaps, she even esteemed hers as of a superior verdigris complexion, the result of i continued strainings and siftings, through the sixty millions of generations from Adam. Had she been queried on this subject perhaps she might have admitted a belief that certain angels had been specially designated, at the general dispersion of the human family, at some early period, to take charge of the Girardins, and to see, whenever the sons and daughters were to be wived and husbanded, that none but a bona fide first cousin should be found to meet the wants of the parties to be provided. Enough of this. It was her weakness-a little too fiequent in our country, where society is required of itself to'establish distinctions of caste, such as the laws do not recognize, and such as elsewhere depend upon the requisitions of a court. The weaknesses of Madame Girardin, as I have already said, did not prevent her from being a very worthy old lady,-i. e., so long as you forebore treading upon the toes of her genealogy. Knowing her weaknesses, and forbearing, if not respecting them, I was something of a favourite with, the old lady, who re- ceived me very cordially. Such also was my reception at the hands of the young one,--possibly, because she knew the part that I was likely to take in promoting the affaire de cceur between herself and my friend. But I should not impute this selfishness to her. Paula was a frank, gentle creature, who had no affeeta- tions-no pretensions-and was just as sincere and generous as impulsive and unaffected. We had been friends from childhood-- her childhood at least-had- played a thousand times together in the parish, and I had no reason to doubt the feeling of cordiality which she exhibited when we met. My social position was not such as to outrage the self-esteem of either. The Coopers of the parish-an English cross upon a Huguenot stock,- seem not to have inheited any prejudices of race from either the English or e 2 w' page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS, French side of the house. We had consequently provoked none of. the enmities of either. In the case of our family, the amalgam of the two had been complete, and we occupied a sort of neutral place .between them, sharing the friendship, in equal degree, of the descendants of both. Hence, I was, perhaps, an equal favour- ite of old Major Bulmer, Ned's father, and of Madame Agnes- Theresa, Paula's grandmother. But, to our progress. Of course, I took special care of the grandmother during our morning call. By the most watchful and-shall I say-judicious solicitude-I kept her busily engaged on such parish topics as I knew to be most grateful to her pride and prejudices. I got her so deeply immersed in these matters that she entirely forget her duenna watchfulness over theto other persons in the apartment. Of co-urse, I took care not to look towards them, as they sat together near the piano, at the opposite side of the parlour, lest I should divert the eyes of the grandmother in the same direction. And thus we chatted, Ned making all possible amount of hay during the spell of sunshine which he enjoyed, and Paula tacitly assisting him by never show- ing any clouds herself. Time flew apace, and we had consumed nearly an hour, when the old lady suddenly looked at her watch, and exclaimed-- "Why, Paula, child, it is almost eleven. What have you been talking about all this time a'" ThU good grandmother, like most other old ladies, never dreamt that she herself had been doing any talking at all. Paula im- mediately started, like a guilty little thing, and exclaimed art- lessly- . "Dear me, mamma, can it be possible." "Possible, indeed 1" responded the grandmother rather sharply. :' You young people seem never to think how time flies. But get your bonnet, child, Mine is here." The maiden disappeared for a few moments, glad to do so, for XIJ SEING-*STREET SHOPPING, AND SHAR-P SHOOTING. 19 i her cheeks betrayed a decided increase of the rich suffusion which owes its fountains to the excited heart. While she was gone, Ned was most profoundly courteous to the ancient lady, and she most I courteously cold. When Paula came back, I asked of Madame l Agnes-Theresa- "Do you walk, Madame Girardin. "Yes; we have not far, to go, only into King-street, where we l have some shopping to do." "If you will suffer me," said I, "I shall be happy to accom- pany you. I have quite a taste and a knack at shopping.' A most deliberate lie, for which the saints plead, and the/oea- vens pardon me. I know no occupation that more chafes and fatigues me; but Ned's affairs had rendered my tastes flexible and "But it will be taking you from your business. You young lawyers, Mr. Cooper, are said to be very ambitious and very close students." I did not laugh at the old lady's simplicity, though I might have done so; but answered with corresponding gravity- "Very true, ma'am, but that is just the reason why we relish a little respite, such as a morning's ramble in King-street promises. Besides, I have really nothing just now to occupy me." And this said, too, while the Court of Common Pleas was in session. Of course, I did not tell the good lady that I had not a single case on the docket. I suppressed that fact for the honour of the profession, and the credit of the community. The old lady was fond of deference and attention, and, as old ladies are not often so fortunate as to secure the chaperonage of handsome young gentlemen, she was not displeased that I should urge upon her my duteous attendance. My services were accepted, and, taking * my arm] only looking round to see that Paula did not take that of Ned Bulmer, she led the way out of the parlour andinto the page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 - THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. street. From Meeting to King, through Queen-street, was but a step, and we were soon in our fashionable ladies' thoroughfare. The day was a bright and mild one, just such as we commonly experience in November,--cooler and more pleasant than usually characterizes the present month of October. The street was crowded with carriages, and the trottoir with fair and happy groups all agog with the always grateful excitement-to the ladies-of seeing one another, and-fancy dresses. Our country cousins were encountered at every turning, and, between town and country, we had to run the gauntlet of old acquaintance, and often repeated recognition. It was quite delightful to see how my, dignified and venerable companion met and acknowledged the salutations of those she knew. Her demeanour varied with strict discrimination of the caste and quality of each acquaintance. She was a sort of social barometer, exactly telling by her manner, what sort of blood flowed in the veins of each to whom' she bowed or spoke. To some few she unbent readily, with a sponta- neous and unreserved and placid sweetness; to others she was starch and buckram personified, and, to not a few, her look was vinegar and vitriolic acid. Even where I myself did not know the parties, personally, I had only to notice her manner as they ap- proached, to find their proper place, high or low, in the social cir- cles'of town oir country. Good, old, aristocratic Dame Girardin was an admirable graduating, scale, for determining the qualities of the stock, and the colour of the blood, in the several candidates for her notice, as we perambulated our Maiden Lane. See her i' contact with a person of full flesh-a parvenu, not yet denuded of vigour by the successive intermarriages of cousins for an hundred years-and the muscles of her face became corrugated like those of an Egyptian mummy, who had been laid up in lavender leaves and balsams, since the time of the Ptolomies;-but, the next moment, you were confounded to see her melt into sunshine and zephyr, as she encountered some dried-up, saffion-skinned atomy, I 'i EKING-STREET SHOPPING, AND SHARP SHOOTING. 21 X having legibly written on her cheeks, a parchment title to have sate at the board of Methuselah. It was absolutely delightful. Her comments upon the parties were equally rich and instruc- tive. A fine-looking, cheery lady, the well known and very attractive Mrs. --- , looked out from h carriage window, and smiled and chirrupped to her as she drow slowly by. "A vulgar creature!" exclaime/0my ancient companion- "what a coarse voice,--what a fa vulgar face she has. No deli- cacy. But how should she have any? She pretends to be some- body now, because she has a little money; but if I were to say what she was-or rather what her grandfather was-I knew him very well, and have bought my negro shoes from him a hundred times. The upstart. Ah!"-with a deep sigh-" every thing degenerates. Lord knows what we will come to at last. It is a hard thing to find any body of pure blood in the city now i Such) a mingling of puddles! This trade! This commerce! I de-j clare it's the ruin of the country!" ' ' Here, I ventured to interpose a word for the fair woman thus hardly dealt with-one of my own acquaintance, whom I had- every reason to esteem;-and I said- "It's unfortunate, to be sure, that Mrs. ----'s grandfather dealt in negro shoes; but she seems to have got over the misfor- tune pretty well. -She is now every where acknowledged in the best society." , ' "The more's the pity. Best society, indeed. There are half a dozen circles, calling ,themselves the best society in Charleston, ,and don't I know that, in each, they are crowded with parvenus- people of yesterday-without any claims to blood or family--de- scendants of Scotch and Yankee pedlars,-mechanics-shopkeep. ers--adventurers of all sorts, who have nothing but their impu- dence and their money--made, heaven knows how-to help them forward."4 "But," continued I, "Mrs. ---- , is really a very charming page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. woman-she is very clever, very pretty, and is considered very amiable." "It's impossible. As for pretty, that, I suppose, is a matter of taste ; and I can hardly allow even that. Mere health, and smooth cheeks, and youth, are very far from constituting beauty. Beauty depends upon delicacy, and symmetry, and-blood. As for clever-I suppose you mean she's smart." "Yes!" "Smartness is. vulgar. Rank and family don't need to be smart. Talent is necessary to poverty, or to inferiority of social position, since it is, perhaps, necessary that there should be some- thing, by way of compensation, given to persons who are poor and without family rank. But wealth, talent and beauty, even- if all combined-can never supply those graces of manner and character, which are the distinguishing qualities of high birth." "But successive generations in the possession of wealth and talent, my dear madam," I suggested, "must surely result in those excellencies of manner, taste and character, which you pro- perly insist upon as so important." "Impossible! Let me W'rn you against any such conclusions," responded the old lady, with -a parental shake of the head and finger. , "But," said I, "of course, even the most select stocks in the world, must have had a beginning once, in some of the ordinary necessities of life." j. "No, sir; no, Mr. Richard"-almost with severity--" certain families have been always superior, from the beginning! Here now, here comes Colonel p . He is one of those, whose families were always, beyond dispute, in the highest circles. Ah I the poor gentleman, how feeble he is-see how he walks, as if about falling to pieces." "Yet he is scarcely more than fifty." 2IJi i1NG-STREET SHOPPfIG, ANb SHARP SHOOTINT . S jj "Ah! he is so wretched. He has no children, and he so lohgg for a son, and his name will probably die out.' "Yet, he has been thrice married." ^ . "Yes! yes! he first married Mary , then her sister Jane and lastly, her younger sister, Matilda;-and no children." "All were his cousins, I think?" "Yes! and Matilda is eiven now, I hear, a dying woman,! I'm sure I pity him from the bottom of my soul. That such a family should become extinct." "He is now poor, I am told. Has run through his fortune." I "Run through his fortune, Mr. Cooper! I don't like the phrase. I He has lived like a gentleman and a prince, and has become im- poverished in consequence. tHe has erred, perhaps, by such ex- travagant living; but I cannot think severely of a person who has I spent it in such a noble style of hospitality. My heart bleeds for him!" H Here the person spoken of approached,--a person well known about town,-one who had wasted his means like a fool, and had not the soul to recover them like a man,-whose ancestors had exhausted the physical vigour of the family by a monstrous succes- sion of intermarriages; and who- had consummated the extreme measure of their follies, by himself marrying three cousins in sue-' cession. The- natural consequence was physical and moral imbe-l cility. The race had perished, and it .was, perhaps, just enough that its possessions should disappear also. I confess that I felt but little sympathy for such a person; and as he tottered up to us, and smirked, and smiled, and sniggered, and talked with an inan- ity corresponding exactly with his character, the pity which his g poverty and feebleness might have inspired, was all swallowed up ! in the scorn which I felt for such 'equal impotence and vanity. i "Ah! it's melancholy," said the old lady, as he left tus; "such [ a name, such a family, so reduced-reduced to one, and he, you may say, already half in the grave." ivi. page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 titE GOLDE C}IRISTMA$ - t had half a mind to ask the -old lady, if she didn't think it would have been preferable had his father married some vigorous young woman of no family at all, and brought up his son to some mtanty occupation; so that he himself might be now vigorous, with sense enough to marry, in turn, some vigorous young woman, of to family at all; having health all round, numerous children to perpetuate the name, and energies sufficient to preserve the for. tune ;-but I felt the danger to the cause of Ned Bulmer, of touch- ing upon ground so delicate; and, at this moment, the'worthy granddame looked about her for'Paula and her companion. In her disquisitions upon the new and vulgar people, and her long talk with the dying Castilian of rare blue blood, she had quite for- gotten the young couple. They had enjoyed the field to them- selves, and were now not to be seen. The old lady took the alarm. I told her they had probably popt into Kerrison's, and we went back to look for them. There they were, sure enough, Paula looking over silks and velvets-a wilderness of beauty, in the am- ple world and variety of the accommodating house in question- but with Ned&Bulmer close to her side, whispering those oily de- lights into her ear, with which young lovers are apt to solace themselves and their companions, in this otherwise very cheerless existence. It was evident to me, from the grave face of the dam- sel, and the conscious one of Ned, that he had done a large amount of haymaking that morning. Whether the old lady sus- pected the progress 'which he had made or not, it was not easy to determine. She did not show it, and was soon as much interest- ed in the examination of the various and gorgeous fabrics around her, as any younger person in the establishment,-which, as usual, was crowded like a ball-room. rKerrison's, indeed, is quite a lounge for the ladies;-a place where, if you wish to find your friends and acquaintance, without the trouble of looking them up, you have only to go thither. The dear old grandmother soon found sundry of hers, of town and country, and was agaid in little X . i: t KING-STRETs' SHOPPING, AND SHARP SHOOTING. 25 while under full sail over the sea of social conversation-one of those admirable seas, by the way, in which no one gets out of his depth. Of course, when Madame Girardin got as deeply as she could amidst the waters, Ned Bulmer resumed his toil upon the meadows at the more sunny and profitable occupation. I loitered at a convenient distance between the dtienna and the damsel, con- i triving, in the most unconscious manner in the world, to interpose as a sort of shield for the protection of the latter from the occa- [ sional glances of the former. When Madame seemed to have i bathed long enough, in her favourite streams, and turned again to i the counter, she found me promptly at her elbow turning over for her inspection piles of changeable silk, chintzes of the finest pat- terns, shawls and other stuffs, for which my experience in the dry goods business is not sufficient to allow me to recall the proper ! names. Fancy the dreariness of this employment-reviewing for a mortal hour all sorts of fabrics, coarse and fine, silk and frieze, cloths worthy of a nobleman, and cloths not unworthy of Sambo ; and Sukey! Verily, friendship required of me great sacrifices ,t that day, and I inwardly swore that Ned should suffer, in a basket of champagne at least, to be sent the very next day to my lodg- ings. (Par parenthese, he did so-and helped me to drink it too!), I even undertook, such was my good nature, to get the good grandmother's orders for groceries supplied -listening pa- tiently to a volume of instructions touching the quality of raisins, citron, almonds, and other matters, all portending cakes, pies, pud- dings, and other Christmas essentials and essences. But this aside. From Kerrison's we sauntered off to Lambert's and Calder's, the old lady being sworn to a new tapestry carpet, and being very choice about colours and figures. The- choice was made at last, and after picking up some rings, chains, and other pretty trinkets at Hayden's, intended for Christmas presents, dear little Paula recollected that she required books; so we went to Russell's. Here page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] Ed TtiE GOLDEN (iRISTAgTkA the stately grandmama, trained in the stiff old schools, recoiled Vwith a feeling akin to horror, as her eye rested onthe exquisite and elaborate busts of Psyche and the Greek Slave. I couldn't persuade her to a second look at them. "Such shows," said she, " would not have been permitted in my day. Powers, indeed! He must be a very bad person. But' I have said already, I see what we're coming to. The good old stocks die out, and every thing degenerates; Loose morals, vul- gar fashions, bad manners and grossj coarse% nameless people, of whom nobody even heard ten years ago," A large picture in front arrested her eye. Certain chubby ant gels, suspended in air, were waiting for the escaping soul of a dying martyr. The old lady seemed quite distressed about the angels. Her criticism would, no doubt, have greatly afflicted the artist. "Why," said she, " they look as if they were going to tumble upon the heads of the people. And well they may; for the paint er has made them so fat and vulgar that no wings in the world can keep them up. As if an angel should have fatness. They look as if they fed upon pork and sausages. It's very shocking-- very vulgar. Why, Paula, those angels look for all the world like the great-cheeked, troublesome fat boys of old Cargus,-only he don't let em go quite so bare in cold weather." Russell nearly fainted at ths' 1ticism, but he did not despair of the old lady, and modestly suggested that he could show her something which he fancied would please her better. "Only step back here, ma'am'" said he in his most courteous manner. But the dear ,old Castilian grandmama was not to be inveigled even by the profound bow and graceful smile of our courtly Bibliopolist. "No I sir!" quoth she with stately courtesy--"I thank you; I have seen enough-quite enough. Such things are not grateful to my eyes, I am only sorry that they should please any eyes," z X{ii^l THE PARISH--THE BULMER BARONY. 27 And she looked as if she were about to add-"I have lived only too long." And she nodded her head slowly several times, as if I over the wickedness of the modern Nineveh,-by which, of course, l you must understand, our poor little city of Charleston. Paula was' less sensitive, and of course more sinful. She looked with eager eyes at the beautiful busts, hung upon the Psyche, much to the 'disquiet of grandmama, even contemplated the picture of the hide- r ous looking saint; and the vulgarly fat little angels, and, following j Russell into the back room was startled into admiration by the ex- quisite ideal of the Escaping Soul. I can't say that she was much Hiimpressed by the Transfiguration-certainly not with the tributary i scene at the foot of the mountain. But we must stop. It was three o'clock before we had finished the shopping ramble through King-street. When we left the ladies again at the Mansion i lHo use, Ned Bulmer was quite in high spirits, and full of commen- dations. i "You did the thing- handsomely, Dick, and I flatter myself I have done the thing handsomely too. Paula does not promise me I positively to run up the flag of independence; but she has suffered me to see that she will never compel me to copmit matrimony with any body else, or suicide for the want of her. And now for dinner. You take your soup with me to-day, of course. CHAPTER IV., THE PARISH.-THE BULMER BARONY. OUR scene now changes from town to country-from St. Philip's. and St. Michael's to St. John's, surnamed of Berkeley. Dame Ag- nes-Theresa and Paula Bonneau had taken their departure from Charleston, the second day after our shopping expedition through ! page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] ,. 28 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. King-street. I had seen them that night and the next, on both occasions accompanied by Ned Bulmer. I am happy to inform my pleasant public that nothing transpired during those two visits to undo the favourable results which have been already reported. By / dint of the utmost vigilance and solicitude, I contrived to steer I/ wide of the morbid sensibilities of our grandmother, or so to han- dle them as to leave her as amiably soothed as under the passes of a scientific magnetizer. Miss Martineau could not have opera- ted more admirably for the recovery- of her favourite dun cow, which all the doctors had given up. The auspices thus favourable, we beheld their departure for the country with confident anticipa- tions, and after the lapse of a week Ned Bulmer followed them. Not, be it remembered, that he proceeded to visit them at Rouge- mont, the plantation seat of the Bonneau family for a hundred years-so called, because the house was erected on a red clay bank,-but that he went into the same parish, and somewhat in the immediate neighbourhood, trusting to the chapter of accidents, -being always in the way-for an occasional meeting with the lovely Paula. As for going straight to Rougemont, even for a morning call, that was a thing impossible. The good old grand- mother, hospitable and courtly as she was, had never honoured him with the slighest intimation that his presence there would be agreeable. She was somewhat justified in this treatment, accord- ing to parish opinion, by the long feud which had existed between the Bulmer and Bonneau families. Ned was unfortunate in his, operations, and baffled in all his plans and hopes. It so happened that he never met with Paula, nor could he contrive any mode of communicating with her. The consequence was, that after fruit- less experiments for ten days, he wrote to urge my early coming up. As a strong inducement to me to anticipate the period which 1 had assigned for my visit, he advised me of the return of Bea- trice Mazyck from the mountains. He knew my weakness with regard to this young lady; and, though he -knew my doubts of l?, THE PARISH-THE BULMER BARONY, 29" success, and could himself hold out no encouragements, his selfish ' desires prompted him to counsel me to hurry up and look also to the chapter of chances for those- prospects. which he could not ' base upon reasonable probabilities. Was it friendship, or my own ! passion, that moved me to an instant compliance- with his request? i The reader is permitted to suppose just which he pleases. I push- ] ed for the parish in three days after receiving his letter, leaving ' my law office in the hands of my young friend A-- T-- ; who so happily divides himself between Law and Poesy, without having the slightest misgivings of the jealousy of either mistress. The legal control of my bachelor household was yielded to Tabi- " tha, my cook,--who, since the awkward hints of Ned Bulmer, had taken frequent occasions to assure me that the peace of my house was secure only so long as it was that of a bachelor. ' I The Bulmer Barony-for old Bulmer, great-gT at-grea andfather t6 1! Ned, had been one of the Barons of Carolina, when, under the } fundamental constitutions ascribed to Locke, the province had a j nobility of its own--was still a splendid estate, though considers- H bly cut down from its old dimensions of twenty-thousand, acres. I suppose the "Barony," now, includes little more than four thou- @ sand. Still, it was a property for a prince, and the present in- cumbent, Major Marmaduke Bulmer, was accounted one of the wealthiest of our landholders. He owned: some three hundred' S slaves, of whom half the number, perhaps, were workers. Ned's M own property, in right of his mother, was a decent beginning for a prudent man, and he was looking about for the purchase of a smaltplantation in the neighbourhood on which to settle, as soon as his negroes came under his own control. At the "Barony' I I was received with such a welcome, as none knows better how to accord than the Carolina gentleman of the old school. Major Bul- merhad been-trained in this school, which, by the way, in the low country parishes, was of, two classes.'- There was an English i and a French class. The one was distinguished by frankness, the page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. other by propriety;-the former was rough ana. impulsive, the latter scrupulous and delicate; the former was apt to storm, occa- sionally, the, latter to sneer and indulge in sarcasm; the forme was loud and eager; the latter was tinctured with propriety which sonmetimes became formality. In process of time, the two schools' modified each other; at all times, they were equally hospitable and generous: fond of display, scorning meanness, and, accord- ' ingly, too frequently sacrificing the substantial securities of life, for the more attractive enjoyments of society. This will suffice to give an idea of the general characteristics of the two classes. Ma- r jor Bulmer was not an unfair specimen of the former. He did not. 1 belong to the modern 'mincing school of the ]nglish, which has somewhat impaired its manners by graftings from the Continent which sit but awkwardly on the sturdy old Anglo-Norman stock. He was not a nice, staid, marvellously measured old gentleman, who said "how nice!" when he was delighted with any thing, and hemmed and hawed over a sentence, measuring every word as if he dreaded lest he should commit a lapse in grammar. On the contrary he was apt to blurt out the words just as they came uppermost, as if perfectly assured that he could say nothing amiss. f So again, instead of the-low, subdued, almost whispered tones which the modern fine gentleman of England affects, he was apt i to be somewhat loud and voluminous-boisterous, perha'ps-when a little excited, and at all times sending out his utterances with a sort of mountain torrent impulse. -In a passion, his voice was a sort of cross between the roar of a young lion, and the scream of an eagle darting after its prey. -. But, the reader must not suppose that Major Bulmer was a sort of American Squire Western. He was no rough, ungainly, sput- tering, swaggering, untrained, untrimmed north country squire, bull-headedly bolting into the circle, and storming and splurging through it, wig streaming and cudgel flourishing- on every hand. The Major was a man of force and impulse, but he was a man of ^ * ' * X:l i , THE PARISH-THE BULMER BARONT. 81 dignity also. His character was bold and salient-his nature demanded it--but it had been trained, and in not a bad school. It had the sort of polish which was at once natural to, and suffi- ient for it, and his impulse was not without its grace, and his X i vehemence was not wanting in the necessary forbearance. No i doubt, he sometimes shocked very weak nerves; and, knowing i that, he was not apt to force his way into sick chambers. If the X invalid sensibility came in his way, it was at its own peril. So ; much for the Major's morale. His personnel was like his moral. M He was large, well made, erect at, sixty, with full rosy cheeks, live- I ly blue eyes, a frosty pow, but a lofty one, and he carried himself like a mountain hunter. On horseback, he looked like a natural captain of cavalry, and, I have no doubt he would have led a charge such as would have made Marshal Ney clap hands in approbation. I The Major met me at the porch of "The Barony," and took M me by the shoulders, instead of by the hands. "What, Dick, "said he, " what, the devil! You areletting hard study and the law kill you up. You are as thin as a cypress pole, and look quite as melancholy. You are pale, wan, and quite unlike what you were two years ago. Then, you could have stood a wrestle with any of us,--now,--deuce take me Dick, if I can't throw you myself." I! And he seemed half disposed to try the experiment. 4 "But this Christmas in the parish will. bring you up again; You must recruit. You must throw those law books to the devil. No man has a right to pursue any study or profession which impairs : manhood. Manhood, Dick, is the first of virtues. It includes, i, implies them all. - Strength, health and courage,-these are the first necessities-without these I would'nt give a fig for any virtue l It could'nt be useful without it, and a stagnant virtue might as well' be a vice for all the benefit it does society." , i! I report the Major literally. His speech will show the reader page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMA-S. the sort of character with whom he has to deal. I need not say that I was received at "The Barony," as if I had been one of the household. Miss Janet Bulmer, the maiden sister of the Major, a calm, quiet, sensible, and rather pretty antique-she certainly had been pretty,'and, by the way, had been crossed in love--welcomed me as affectionately as if I had been her own son.. She was the Major's housekeeper, shared some of his characteristics, if not his prejudices, but was subdued even to meekness in her demeanour. Not that she had lost her spirit; but its exercise seldom suffered provocation. She rescued me from the clutches of her brother, and conducted me to my chamber, in what was called the garden wing of the establishment. It was near sunset when I arrived, and Ned Bulmer was absent; no one knew whither. He had gone out on horseback; I suspected in what direction. I was busy at the toilet, adjusting myself for presentatian at supper, when he burst into the room, with a cry of joy and fwelcome. He had a great deal to say, but th report was not favou!able. He had not yet been able to meet with Paula. "But now that you are come, my dear fellow, you will call upon the old lady, and convey the necessary message to the young one." All of which I promised. We were yet busy in details when Zack, the most courtly negro that ever wore gentleian's livery, made his appearance. "Happy to see you, Mr. Richard,--very happy, sir;-not look- - ing so well as in old times, Mr. Richard;-hope you'll improve, jsir, at the Barony. Mr. Ned,--Miss Janet says--supper's on table, gentlemen." Stately, courteous, deliberate, respectful, considerate, proper, re- served, always satisfactory, Zacharias! You are a treasure in. any gentleman's household! We promptly obeyed the summons of Aunt Janet-Afor so I had long been accustomed to call her, in the language of my ffiend. SUPPER AND PHLOSOPHY. 33 CHAPTER V. fl SUPPER AND PHLOSOPHY. IF, dear reader, you have been one of those luckless earthrigs i to whom an indulgent providence has never permitted the enjoy- ment of the hospitalities of a Southern plantation, the proprietors of which have been trained to good performances, by long prac- g tice, under generous tuition, derived from the habits, customs, ?manners, tastes and wealth of long time ago,-I can only pity your ignorance, for, it is not possible, in the brief space allotted to i me in this narrative, to undertake to cure it. You must gather up from incidental suggestions and remarks, as I proceed, what faint notion I may thus afford you, of the thousand nameless peculiarities which so gratefully distinguish social -life in the re- : gions through which we ramble together. It is notpretended, mark me, that in this respect we have undergone n/ochanges. Far from it. The last thirty years have done much to render tra- ditional, in many quarters, those graces of hospitality which con; stituted the great charm of our old plantations; and ,n particui- lar, to lose for us the solid advantages of an English tFaining and i education, as it was taught eighty years ago too6ur planters in E{ i( rope, without giving to their descendants any corresponding equi- valent for it. Still there are tokens and trophies of the past, making dear and holy certain ancient homesteads--an atmos- phere of the venerably sweet in the antique, the spells of which have not entirely passed awdy. But these tokens no longer exhi- bit the usual vitality, thoug they retain the familiar form. Their traces may be likened to thei withered rose leaves in your- old cabi- net, that still faintly appeal to the senses, but rather recall what they cannot restore, and palp you by the contrasts they force upon you, rather than compensate you by their still lingering sweetness. page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. It was the pride and passion of Major Bulmer,-who was fully con- scious of the changes going on in the country,-that "Bulmer Barony" should be the last to surrender those social virtues which constituted the rare excellence of our old plantation life in tle South. ; t His home was a venerable brick mansion, after the old English fashion in most respects,--a great square fabric, with wings. The passage-way or hall was spacious, and the massive stair-flight that ascended from it, was of mahogany of the most solid fabric. No miserable veneering was the broad plate, and the elaborate mould-. ing. This great house was always kept in thorough repair ;-i not looking fresh .and shiny, with paint and plaster, and green blinds,-but kept whole,-no decay suffered,--no sign of decay, even though the ivy was suffered to creep and clamber, greening the whole north wall, leaving but narrow space for the windows even, and stretching round and hanging over the corners of the house on the east and west. Not a service or a servant was less- ened, or cut off friom the establishment as it was known in the days of his grandfather. The butler, the porter, the waiters, the out-riders, the post-boy,-all were the same. He still drove his coach and four, though he permitted himself a buggy with four seats and driven by a pair, occasionally giving it a curse, not be. cause it did not exactly please him, but because it was an innova- tioBre k fast, dinner, lunch, supper-all after the old fashion- recurred ever at the same period. The cook had been so regu- lated that she herself had become a first rate time-piece. It was surprising how admirably her time corresponded with that of the hall clock, which was always kept in proper order. Then, there could be no possible change in the character of the dishes. These were rigidly old English,--nay, almost Saxon in their solidity. "None of your French kickshows for me," q'uoth the Major, when his son spoke of pate de foi-gras. What! eat the liver com- plaint! and that of a goose too. May I swallow my own liver & r w" Ef wrrJLM am a1NJLf IrSiLUJSOSurni O fist. No! Ned n ione of that nonsense, boy. It is quite enough to sicken me to see you with that d-d swallow-tailed republican RF'ench coat, which you properly call a Lamartine." "Why, father, it is a mere elaboration of an English shooting jacket." "Nonsense! You are speaking of the moderi English, who are nothing but continental apes and asses. The real old English, before they became corrupted with their paltry affectations, would have scorned such a popinjay fashion. At all events, if you will wear such a monstrosity, and disfigure ail otherwise good person, you are at liberty to do so, but by no French diseases shall be employed as a substitute for wholesome human food, at the Barony, while I am the master of it." Accordingly, the supper table of Major Bulmer exhibited no imn ported meats, unless we include in this category a delicious Buffalo tongue, of which I devoured more than a reasonable man's pro- portion. Some excellent stuffed beef, part of a round from dina ter, a ham into which the first incikions were that day made, some cold mutton, which I contend to be a; specially good thing in spite of Goldsmith's sneering reference, (in Retaliation,) and a ariety besides, made the table literally to groan under its bur- den; and the reader will suppose a corresponding variety of bread stuffs and cakes,- jellies and other matters. Ask Major Bulmer, on I the subject, and he would readily admit the doubtftl taste of such arrangement and display. "But," says he, " it is the old custom, I inherited it-it is sacred as the practice of my ancestors,--and in these days of demnocracy, which threaten to tuwn the world upside down, in which old things are to become new, I do not feel myself at liberty to question the propriety of the few antique fashions which I am permitted to retain. I prefer to incur the reproach of a deficient taste to that of a failing veneration." We did ample justice to the provisions-our appetite suffering no censure from taste in respect to the arrangements of the table. 5 ' i' t ' page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 1 I1THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. After supper we adjourned to the library,-Major Bulmer impro- ving, by the way, upon his grandfather, having contrived to make a handsome collection of some three thousand volumes,-all in solid English bindings (done in New-York) and in massive cases, manufactured out of our native forest growth. These, I am happy to say; issued from the workshops of Charleston. Here, with floor finely carpeted, books around us for every temper, a rousing fire of oak and hickory in the ample fireplace, and each of us disposed in great rocking chairs, we meditated through the media of the best Rio Hondos-the Major excepted-who pre- ferred to send up the smokes of Indian sacrifice, from a native clay pipe, which he had bought thirty years before from a Catawha. "Life!" quoth the Major,-"Life!"--that was all. The smoke did the rest, and each of us instinctively thought of vapour. "Yes, life is" not such a bad thing!" continued the Major. "Nay! give a man enough to go upon, and life is rather a good thing in its way. Indeed, I am not sure but I would rather live than not. Somehow, I get on very well. I makegood crops, and I have a good appetite. I can back a horse against a regi- ment, and I have a taste for Madeira. Yet I have had troubles, and cares, and anxieties. That son' Dick, is one of my anxieties. I want to see the fellow married." "I suspect," said I, " that he would like to see himself married." "No, indeed!" quoth the Major quickly. "Why, the d 1, should he wish to be married! What will marriage do for such a fellow. He is quite too young, yet, to understand its importance. He is too unsettled! He must sow his wild oats first." "He wants to settle ;--and, as for sowing his wild oats, Major, I see no reason why -e should not sow them in his own grounds." "Every chap, now-a-days," responded the Major, " before he fairly chips the shell, wants to settle himself as his own master. Ned has thsame foolish hankerings. He talks of buying and planting. Why not plant with me?" ' I- . SVUPPER AND PHLOSOPHY. 3' "But you, sir, did not plant with your own father. You set up for yourself, if I remember lightly, before you came of age ;" said Ned, with a chuckle, thinking he had caught the old man between the ribs. "So I did," said he, " and lost by it. I lost, God knows how, eleven thousand dollars in three years." "That was because you were so extravagant," quoth Ned irrev- erently.- "Were you to follow my example now." "Get out, you young rascal! Follow your example! You are looking at that place of old Gendron: but you could never make anything there, It was worn out forty years ago." "I don't think it was ever worn at all," answered Ned-"I doubt if it was ever ploughed fairly in its life. The surface was only scratched in those days. The good soil yet lies below, and can bring first rate cotton under good cultivation." "And who made you a planter What sort of cultivation would you give it, do you think? Do you suppose I would trust you with a crop of mine? Don't I know what will come of your setting up for yourself? In six months you'll be coming to, me for money. In a year I shall have to step forward and assume your responsibilities to the tune of two or three thousand dollars, as I did -only a year ago." "Well, father, you'll-do it?" "Will I, then? Perhaps-for I'm too indulgent to you by a long shot, and have been ever since I broke your head with that hickory-" Certainly, a decided proof of your indulgence!" cried Ned, 'with a laugh. "So it was, for you deserved to, have not only your head but every bone in your body broken; but when, in my passion I knocked you down and your blood flooded my best carpet, I thought I had killed you,-as if it were possible to kill such a fel; low by any hurt done to the head-and since then a proper con- 4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] &8 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS sideration of my own weight of arm and anger, have made me for. bear utterly, until now drubbing would do you no service. You are ruined, I am afraid, for any future use/' "A wife will cure him, Major;" said I. "And perhaps punish him more effectually than anythingI can do; and I shouldn't object provided he could get the right one. But there, again, he is not- disposed to do as I want him, He has a hankering after that pretty little Frenchified huzzy, Paula Bonnean, and thinks I don't see--and don't suspect. An- swer honestly now, Ned Bulmer; is it not true what I say?" "I own the' soft impeachment, sir;" was the quiet response of Ned, lighting a fiesh cigar, and reversing the position of his crossed -legs. "You own-and what a d --d mincing phrase is that. Do you suppose it proper because it is taken from Shakspeare. You own it! Well, sir, and why do you suffer yourself to haiiker after such a woman as that?. Not -a woman in fact-a mere child-a doll-a pretty plaything-more like a-breast pin than a woman- a very pretty cut Italian cameo, sir; but not fit for a wife. What sort of children, sir, do you suppose such a woman can bring you? Such as will do credit to the name of-your family--to the State- able to wield a broad-sword-able to command respect: and pre- side with state and dignity in a parlour, or at a dinner table! Be- sides, Ned, she's French, and we are English, and for a hundred years there has been an antipathy between our two families F! "High time to heal it, father;" said Ned, flushed and firing up, "Don't speak unkindly, sir, of Paula Bonneau. You know, sir, it is wrong-you wrong her as a lady, young, innocent, intelligent, of good family, and very beautiful. You wrong yourself as a gen- tleman, boastful of family, so to speak;-and you know it-and feel it, sir. If Paula is petite, as I allow, she is not the less worthy to be the wife of any man, nor will she fail to command respect any where. There's no lady in the parish of better manners, more fI I3SUPPER AND PHLOSOPHY. 39 dignified and amiable, polished and unaffected. As for these old i family antipathies and grudges, I do think, sir, that it's a disgrace ! to common sense that you should entertain them. What if she has French blood in her veins? So have half the English, I and the best half too. Your Normans who conquered England s infused into it all the vitality that made the race great. k-All that ( their-descendants have of the noble and the conquering came from the Norman side of the house. The Saxon was a sullen boor, whose sole virtue was his dogged bull-dog tenacity. But the chivalry, the enterprise, the lofty adventure, and the superior tastes, were borrowed from the Normans. Your own family, sir was originally Norman, and you yourself, had you lived three hun dred years ago, might have been proud of your French tongue at an English court. The fact is, sir, you too much underrate our family, its antiquity no less than its character, in dating only from the prejudices of your great-great-grandsire in America. It was in his ignorance of his own origin that he imbibed those prejudi- ces, and from his personal rivalries with old Philip Bonneau. It happened unfortunately that his son had a French rival in Paul Bonneau, the son of Philip; and his son again, in your father found an antagonist in the younger Philip. But you, sir, have no such rival, and why you should, discrediting all gallantry, make a woman, a girl, the object of your antipathy, simply to perpetuate the silly personal prejudices of your ancestors, neither justice, nor lgenerosity, nor common sense, can well see! I protest, sir, it is positively a reproach to your manhood that you should thus reli- - giously maintain an antipathy, when its object is a sweet, young, artless, and unoffending woman!"' The Major was taken all aback. "Take breath, Ned, take breath,-or let me breathe a little. Well, sir, have you done?" "Done!"- page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. ; "By the powers, Dick Cooper, did' you everhear a father so; be-rated by a son 1" lo r "Really, sir, he proves his legitimacy by the close resemblane! of his style to your own." Good!--and now Master Edward Bulmer do you suppose that I would not gladly welcome any man-antagonist of the BonneaRu family?" "'Nobody suspects you of fear, sir; but courage in the encou. ter with an armed man, and an equal, is not the sole proof oil manliness. The courage, sir, which is just and magnanimous, and which hrinks from the idea of wrong-doing, as from death and shame, is the best proof that one can give of a true nobility. How, sir, with your general sense of what is right-with you pride and sense of honour,-can you reconcile it to yourself t speak sneeringly and scornfully of such a pure, sweet, gentle crea ture as Paula Bonneau-one who has never wronged you--one too, whom you know to be the object of the most earnest attach ment of your son." The Major was disquieted. Ned had caught him tripping. B knocked the ashes out of his pipe-put f .esh tobacco in--kno& that out-also-then stuck the empty pipe into his mouth, and b gan drawing and puffing vigorously. Ned, meanwhile, had rise and was taking long strides across the floor. The old man, length, recovered his tone. -ie felt the home truths which he h heard, and was manly enough to acknowledge them. He spra to his feet, with the elasticit of a boy of eighteen. "Ned's right," said he to me, "after all. He's rough, but M right. Ned, my son, forgive me. I have wounded you m sorely than I meant." His arms were extended, and the son rushed into them. F( moment the Major clasped him closely to his bosom. He' proud of his boy-his only-he knew his real nobleness of cha '- i' .. \ OUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. 41 ter, and he felt how much he had outraged it. I felt my eyes suffused at the picture. "You are right, Ned;BL dsome not the injustice to suppose hat I meant any wrong t Paula Bonneau. She is a good girl, I verily believe, and a pretty one, I am willing to admit-but, Ned, for all that, look you,-you shall never marry her with my' con- sent. There-enough! Good night, boys." Thus saying, the Major hurried off, evidently anxious to avoid any more words. : "Something gained," said I. X "You think so .v, "Decidedly." , "Yet, you heard his last words?" "' It doesn't matter! With a magnanimous nature, the convic- tion that it has wantonly done. a wrong to another, and the desire H to repair it, lead always one or more steps beyond. I should not be surprised if Paula Bonneau grows into favour after a while." "Heaven grant it; but you are tired. Let us to bed." CHAPTER VI. in[g1i : OUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. ei, IED BULMER was too eager and anxious about his afaire du coeur to give me much respite. His buggy was at the door soon after breakfast the next morning. "Whither"--asked the Major of his son,-" whither are you ,a ,going to carry Richard to-day? Certainly, there is nothing so was mportant as to deny him one day's rest when he gets here." ac0 ,I want him to go with me and see this place of Gendron's am willing to take his opinion of the lands." 4, , ' page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "Why, what the deuce can a lawyer know of lands?" "I shall want him, possibly, to look into the titles and draw up the papers. And as he is something of a surveyor, he can help me to find the lines." Aunt Janet smiled quietly and whispered to me-" see that you do not trespass upon the lands of Madame Girardin." I saw that our proceedings were no mystery to her, and guessed that she was not unfriendly to Ned's passion. The Major growled meanwhile, and, at length, said- "Don't be persuaded any where at present, boys, for we must get up a hunt to-morrow. Bryce tells me that there is a fine old buck that haunts the wood down by the Andrew's bottom field; he saw fresh tracks only this morning. If we turn out early to- morrow, we can start him, and, perhaps, others. At all events, I am for trying. We will see if you youngsters can draw as fine a sight, and pull as quick a trigger, as the old man of sixty." We promised, and the impatient Ned scored, with a flourish, the brown sides of his bay, sending him forward at a fast city trot, which took us to Gendron's-about five miles-in half an hour. Here we drew up and went into the house which Was in charge of the overseer. But here we did not linger. After we had got a draught of cold water and had a little chat with the overseer, Ned thrusito my hands a morsel of a billet which he had prepared before we left " the Barony," which had no address but was meant for Paula. - "Take the buggy and boy, old fellow, and visit your friend I Madame Agnes-Theresa. It is a mile round to the entrance, but the estates join, and-do you see yonder pine woods? They are about eight hundred yards from this spot, but only two hundred from the house at Rougemont. My note says only that I shall be there, and if you can entertain the old lady, so that the young one can make her escape unseen, I am in hopes that she will suffer Eil ' OUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. . 43 Ad me to entertain her there for a season. Only keep the grand- mother quiet for a good half hour." iXiiii I was successful; being so fortunate as, to find Paula alone in :J the drawing-room. I gave her the note, which she was able to read and conceal from the grandmother. I found the old lady in the best of humoursru te satisfied with her own purchases in the I Oity, and particularly pleased with those which I had selected-for her., Upon the raisins, crushed sugar, and almonds, she was espe- cially eloquent, and was graciously pleased to assure me-to my horror-that hereafter she should employ me to make all her pur- chases of this nature. My judgment was so highly extolled in this matter, that I trembled lest she should conclude by proposing to invest a few thousands, and to go into the grocery business with me. While she talked, Paula disappeared. Of course, I l encouraged the eloquence of the grandmother. I knew the topics to provoke it; but the reader has already had a sufficient sample of them, and I will not require him to partake of my annoyances. ?i:, I was patient, and held on for nearly an hour, until the sweet face of pretty Paula once more lightened the parlour. Of course, I had something to say to her, interrupted, however, by the grand- mother, who sharply rebuked her for leaving me during the whole time of my visit. Paula looked to me with the sweetest gravity in the world, and made the most gracefully evasive apology, which Madame Girardin. Invitations from both of them, to renew my visit, dine, and spend the day,- were gratefully acknowledged, and, shaking affectionate hands, I took my departure. I found Ned Bulmer rather under a cloud. The interview be- tween himself and Paula, under those famous and friendly pines, i had not been quite, satisfactory to his ardent and impetuous nature. Paula entertained some natural feminine scruples at an intercourse nt only secretly carried on, but notoriously against the desires of Ot * page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] nA Iu jUJJtjW VUINHttliSMAS , . both their parents. The little creature had shown herself quite chary and somewhat sad. - "I urged upon her," said Ned, " all that I could in theway of argument to convince her that there was a natural limit to parental X rights-that parents had no right to oppose their own mere anti- pathies to the sympathies of others-that, to indulge these anti- pathies at the expense of our affections, was a gross and unfeeling injustice-that the right of the parent simply consisted in being assured of the morals and the character of the parties concerned-- perhaps, to see, farther, that the means of life were at their com- mand. Beyond this, I contended, that any attempt at authority 3 was usurpation. I urged upon her, in the event of our parents continuing to refuse, that we should marry without regard to their objections. To this, the dear girl positively objected. This roused I me a little, and I showed some temper. Then she wept bitterly md called me unkind,-and Hwould you believe it, Dick, I wept ;oo,-I suppose for sympathy, and then she was more distressed ban ever. The tears of a: man, to a woman, are certainly very Lwful, or very ridiculous. They either show great weakness, or treat suffering. Certainly, when Paula saw the drops on my heek she was positively terrified. But, she was firm still. She vould consent to nothing. Dick,-I half doubt if she loves me." "Po6h! pooh! you are unreasonable. J don't see what more ou could require. She gives you the highest proof of love she A n,--andyou expect her to tear herself away, in defiance, from J er only kinswoman-she who has trained her, protected her, been , " )her a mother. Nonsense! you are too fast! Patience, we rust work upon the rock with water. Time! time, man! That all that you want. The game is more than half won when the !: dy herself is willing." "But, I see no progress." "That is because you only see through the medium of your i Ipatient desires. Time, I say That is what you require ' " We looked about the Gendron plantation of course, which Neda was really disposed to buy, and I gave my opinion in concurrence with his. This task done, wedrove to the "Barony," and got in in good time for .dinner. There were several guests, several old friends, parishioners, and a couple of strangers. The dining-saloon was a large one, and a noble board was spread. -The supplies of such a board in the South need no recital. But I may mention that Major Bulmer was famous for his muttons, and he had a choice specimen on table. The Madeira of rare old vintage circu- lated freely, and there was no deficiency in the dessert. When the ladies had retired, and we had finished a bumper or two, we adjourned to the libPary, where -we rather drowsed and dawdled away the remnant of the afternoon than conversed. We did not return to the supper table, but coffee was brought in to us where we sate, and after a while the guests departed, leaving me pledged tdr several houses in the neighbourhood, for dinner in some, and lodging and a long visit in others. When they were all gone, the Major brought up the subject of the Gendron estate. "Well, what think you of the tract?"-this to me. "There is a good deal of uncleared land, pretty heavily tim- bered." "Only five or six hundred acres, I think." "But oak an. hickory." h "Yes; but not remarkable. Light, Dick, very light, and sandy. "Better than you think for. There is also some good pine land too." I "Not much I fancy. You, perhaps, confounded with it that of the old French woman, Girardin, alongside of it. By the way, did you think to go and see her. She is an old friend of your family, at least, and very exacting. If you did not call upon her, and she hears of you in the neighbourhobd, you are out of her books forever." "' I did call. I left Ned at Gendron's, and went over and saw page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. the ladies. Madame Girardin and myself confabulated for an hour. I saw her in the city, and have fortunately found favour in her sight by a successful selection of groceries. I so pleased her, that, to my horror, she assures me I shall always be permitted to choose her groceries,-the sugars, raisins, citron, almonds, &c., in parti- cular." "Ha! ha! ha! What a creature! Yet she has some good points. She is a fast friend, and hates like the devil! And I call these the inevitable companion-tirtues, as clearly indispensable to each other as good and evil in the world. What a bunch of pre- judices she is, tied up-like a bundle of vipers in a hole throughout the winter. I believe she hates every thing English." I smiled in my sleeve, and was about to add,--" as you hate ( every thing French,"--but in truth, Major Bulmer's prejudices did not amount to hates. There was really no passion in them at all. He had simply imbibed certain habits of speech,-perhaps certain prescriptive thoughts-nay, notions would be the better word--and wanting that attrition of intellectual society which rubs off sali- ent angles, and deforming protuberances. It struck me, however, while thinking thus indulgently of the Major's prejudices, that it might be no bad policy to show up those of Madame Girardin in their true colours. - His -dislike of her would perhaps enable him to see how equally loathsome and ridiculous is the indulgence of a blind, insane hostility to things and persons of whom, and which, we really know no evil. Accordingly, I was at pains to report the conversation which was had between the old lady and myself in, our shopping expedition, in which she emptied so freely her bag of gall upon trade and tradesmen, parvenus and clever people. I did not spare her, you may be sure, and made the portrait as fan- tastically true as possible. The Major laughed and clapped his hands delightedly. "What an atrocious old monster. Who ever heard the like? -- COUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. 47 To think favourably of such a meanspirited, unpeiforming, snivell- ing creature as --, to think indulgently even of such a base fardel of inanities, seems to me an equal outrage upon decency and common sense; but to denounce commerce, which has made England queen of the seas, mistress -of the destinies of nations, which carries civilization and art wherever it goes, which stirs up and inspirits intellect, endows the animal with soul, and informs the clay with energy and action. What a diabolical old fool. But she hates commerce because it is so thoroughly English I That's it! And yet to think that Ned Bulmer is really anxious to mairy into such a family, so blind, ignorant, conceited, and bitterly prejudiced. It can't be but that the granddaughter shares in all the foolish notions of the grandmother. She has been trained up in the same school. She thinks and feels precisely as the old wo- man does. That a son should desire to wed a woman who hates and despises the very race to which his father owes his origin!" I must here advise the reader that this was - said after Ned Bul- mer had left us for the night, and when the Major and myself were lingering over our cigars; and a hot vessel of whiskey punch. Ned had disappeared purposely, in order that I might have every op- portunity of subduing, if that were possible, the asperities and ob- jections of the old man. '"You are mistaken, Major,' said I, in reply, "in your opinion of Paula Bonneau. She shares in none of the prejudices of. her grandmother, which she properly regards as most unhappy weak- nesses. She is, herself, as liberal and intelligent a young woman as you will find in, ;he country, noways arrogant or presumptuous, noways conceited!rbigoted, and I believe quite as much an admit- rer of the English as of the Huguenot stock. Nay, the very favour with which she regards Ned seems to me quite conclusive on this point." "Favour with which she regards Ned!" exclaimed the Major. "Why you don't mean to say it has got to that? You don't mean page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 TrH GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. to tell me that they have already come to an understanding-that Ned has been so d d precipitate as to propose, knowing my objections, and-" Here he started to his feet, clapt his doubled fists into his ribs, and stood, arms akimbo, confronting me ajif prepared for a regular engagement. I saw that I had been guilty of a lapse-had gone a step too far-and must recover. "-By no means," I answered with laborious coolness and delibe- ration, stirring my whiskey punch and blowing off the smoke. "That Paula favoured Ned is only a natural conclusion from her demeanour when they meet, and from the manner in which she speaks of him and of yourself. She looks-as if she might love him, and speaks very kindly to and of him." "Oh that is all, is it! and well she may love him, and perfectly natural that she should desire him for a husband, for a better fel- low and a'better looking fellow-though his own father I make bold to say it,-is nowhere to be found between the Santee and the Savannah. And she, too, is a clever girl enough, in her way, I do not doubt. I don't deny that she is pretty, and people every where say that she is amiable and intelligent; but neverthe- less she is not the girl for Ned. She is too small, Dick; that is one objection." ' Rather a recommendation, I should suppose, if, according to the proverb, a wife is, at best, a necessary evil." "What! of evils choose the least. But the smartness of the saying don't prove the philosophy to be good. Still, the objection of size might be overcomef if there were others not also insupera- ble. There's our family prejudice, Dick, against the race." ' Certainly-that objection could not be more impressively urged than by Madame Girardin, speaking of the English!" "Confound her impudence. But there's no sense, Dick, in that. Her prejudices against the English, indeed! What an old fool. Prejudices against the noblest people that God ever crea- Of s ,r sIa OUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. 49 ted, and whom he created to be the masters of the world,-.fhia true successors to the Romans." \ -' That's just what she thinks of the French." ' Pshaw! the' stubborn old dolt. Dont bring her up to me,. Dick Cooper. The antipathy of the English to the French isi based upon reason and experience. That of the French to the! English is the natural result of fear and hatred, as the whipt dogi dreads the scourge that has made him writhe and tremble. 'But, putting all-this matter aside, Dick, there is still a better reason for my opposition to this passion of my son. The truth is,- -and, for the present, this must be a secret between us,--I have already chosen a wife for Ned--" ' The d--1 you have!"I exclaimed, starting up in my turn, "No! But an angel I have; one of the most lovely creatures in the world-the very ideal of feminine beauty-a noble person, an exquisite skin, the sweetest and most brilliant eyes, lips that would make the mouth of a saint to water, and persuade an Fan- chorite perpetually to sip,-and,-but enough. The woman upon whom I have set my eyes for Ned is, I hold, the perfection of woman!" "And pray who is she?"I demanded, somewhat curious to know who could have inspired the Major with such raptures. "Who! Can you doubt. Why, man, Beatrice Mazyck, to be sure!" It was my turn to be confounded. Beatrice Mazyck! I wae staggered. You could have felled me with a feather. Beatrice Mazyck! My heart whirled about like the wheels of a locomo- tive. Beatrice Mazyck! What, the d--1, thought I, can the Fates be about? What do they design? What should put this onto Major Bulm 's head, for my particular disquiet-per- haps defeat and disappointment. His wealth, his rank in the parish, his son's personal claims,-all rushed through my brain in page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] ' O - . THE COLDtfi CARISTMAB s i a moment, filling me with terror, and seeming conclusive of tmy own fate. I showed my consternation in my face. "What's the matter with you, Dick,-you seem flurried " n "Nothing, I thank you, Major; only I fancy this whiskey punch is a trifle too strong for my brain." "Too strong! Too weak rather! Why, man, when I was of your age, we made no mouths at a pint of such liquor as that, A liquor which, would laugh to shame all the nectar that the Greek gods stored away in their Olympian cellars. But the young men of this day are mere milksops, They have no heads-- I may add no hearts also-such as they had when I was a boy. But what say you to Beatrice Mazyck? Don't you approve of my choice ." The speech of the Major on the days of his youth, the strong heads:and better hearts which they then enjoyed, afforded me time to recover from my consternation., I felt that it was necessary for tMe to clothe myself in all my stoicism and meet the danger with becoming fortitude. I succeeded in the effort, and said-' "But, Major, how do you reconcile it to your English prejudices to think of Beatrice. She's as much French as Paula!" - Hem!-yesl--not exactly. She has French blood in her veins, I grant you. But she is decidedly not French. The Eng- lish predominates. Look at her figure. How thoroughly Eng- i lish. What a noble stature--what a fine bust-how well devel- oped everywhere-then her face is Saxon--her skin fair, her eyes 'blue, her hair auburn-English all over!" I laughed, in spite of my disquiet, at the ease with which preju- dices may be overcome, when there's a will for it. "You have reasoned yourself very happily into a new convic- tion, Major." ' Well, sir, and how should a man acquire new convictions, but through his reason. I claim to be a reasoning animal. Now, what objection have you to Beatrice Mazyck " ' OUR AtFA1iR .Al o- i la wub vxxUa- - "For myself, none; but for Ne/ " "Well, sir, for Ned? What objections do you make to her as a wife for Ned?" "First, then, I fancy he does not desire her." "He's a fool, then, for his pains-but he will desire her, if his eyes can be reasonably opened. And you, my dear Dick, must assist me in becoming his occulist." "Me, sir!--me, Major!" / "' Yes, you! Why not! Why do you look so amazed at the suggestion? You are the very man to do it! You are Ned's friend- his confidant, his counsellor,-I may say 'his oracle. Give me your assistance, and we shall soon contrive to persuade him that Beatrice is worth a hundred of his little French Paula." "But, Major, suppose Beatrice should not'altogether favour the arrangement. What does she say about it?" "She will favour it, I'm sure. Ned's not the fellow to sue for a lady's smiles in vain." "(Do you build solely on this. Has Beatrice been sounded on the subject?" "Not yet, but she will be. Her mother favours it." "Ah! -well, sir ;-I am not sure that I can, for two reasons :at least." \ "Indeed!-weg!-what are they." "Firstly, as I sad before, I'm pretty certain that Ned will never consent to substitte Paula for Beatrice. He will never love Bea, trice. Secondly dear Major, I want Beatrice for myself." "The devil you do!," exclaimed the Major aghast, st starting to his feet, and seizing me by the shoulder. "Richard Cooper,-do you really mean it?-are you in earn- est." "As a prophet, sir." "You love Beatrice Mazyck?" . , page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 TTHE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS, "From the bottom of my heart. I have loved her for two years." "And she?"- "I have never approached her on the subject, sir." "Then you are both uncommitted?" "Entirely--to each other." But has any thing served to encourage you, Dick a" "I oything, sir, which a merely reasonable man would construe into hope. I have sometimes fancied that she was not indiffer- ent to me, and I have perhaps estimated her looks and woditas significant of more than I could define or assert. But, beyond this, which may be wholly in my imagination, I have nothingtpon which to found a hope." "But, Dick, even did she favour you, are you in a condition to marry? She is -not rich, you know, and you-" i "Less so! But that, Major, is a sufficient reason why we should both assert our independence. Poverty must not always, stand upon ceremony. But, I frankly tell you, Major, were Bea- tlice willing, I should fearlessly venture upon matrimony with all its perils and expense!" The old man strode the room with cloudy forehead and irregu- lar motion. I, meanwhile, Jlighted a fresh cigar, and suffered my head to subside heavily between my shoulders, while I gazed into the fire sullenly, brooding upon newly aroused anxieties. After a while, the Major stopt in his walk, and confronted me: "Dick, my boy, this is devilish unfortunate. You know my friendship for you, Dick,--my love for you, in fact,-for; in truth, I feel for you, next to my own boy, as if you were my own son. You rank next after him.- I loved your father,--we were bosom friends, and stood beside each other in many a fight and frolic, even as you and Ned would, I am sure, stand up for each other. I would do a great deal for you, Dick, and should be glad to see you happy with the woman that you love; but Dick, my heart is OUR AFFAIRS BECOME MUCH COMPLICATED. 53. set upon this marriage between Beatrice and'Ned. I must do all I can to promote it. I can think of no other woman for him, and, ,in fact, have committed myself to her mother. But, Dick, it shall ibe fair play between us. All shall be open and- above board. You will say nothing to Ned of my present objects, as I can now not hope that you will say any thing in their favour; but I/give you notice, my boy, that I shall now go to work in earnest. What you have so frankly told me compels me to anticipate as much as pos- sible, and to urge, as rapidly as I can, an affair about which I had meant to be deliberate. You, meanwhile, will do your best, and if you can win the girl, in spite of all that I cail do for Ned, then it will prove that she is the proper person for- you; and your success shall be as satisfactory to me as to yourself- Nay, further, Dick, if money can help you to a start in the world with Beatrice, you shall have it. I can spare to you, without making bare myself, and Ned, I'm sure, will do his part. Do your devoir, therefore, my boy, with all your skill and spirit, as I am in honour bound to do mine, and, as the old judges cried out in the courts of chivalry, ' God defend the right!' What's the old Norman French of it? But, d-n the French of it! The English is good enough for my purpose! Go ahead bravely,-there shall be no want of money, Dick, for your progress, and we shall both equally acknowledge that vital maxim to which our English ancestors owe, perhaps, nine-tenths of their successes--' fair play!'" , The old man seized my hand, and shook it with a sternly sincere, emphasis. I answered the grasp with like fervour, but I could say nothing. I was very deeply touched with his nobleness and generosity. Certainly, with' all his prejudices, the Major is one of the most noble specimens of modern manhood. "And now, Dick," said he, "to bed. Finish your punch, and we'll be off. We must rise by daylight for the hunt to-morrow. ' This day a deer must die!'" And he went off humming the ballad. page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMA. CHAPTER VII. ^ - (. Bucks have at ye all."-Old Song. ) T dawn the horns were sounding, and the beagles yelling all around the premises. Major Bulmer -had a noble pack of hounds, thirty in number. This was one of his weaknesses-he was ambi- tious of keeping up the old practice of his grandfather,-to say nothing of his English authorities,--although circumstances had quite changed. Ours are no longer the vast forests that they were prior to'76. The swamps are no longer inaccessible, and the population, greatly increased, give the deer no respite. According- ly, they are terribly thinned off, and it is quite an event when an overseer or driver can say to the planter, "there's an old buck about,"--or, "there's tracks of deer in the peafield." What a ,blowing of horns follows such an annunciation! What a chorus of dogs! What a mustering of Martons and full-bloods. There is no slumbering thence, for the household, till we have " got the meat!" "This day a deer must die!' cried Ned Bulmel, booming into my room before the sun had fairly rubbed his eyes foi a rising, echoing the burthen which had sounded last in my ea'is, when I lay down to sleep. I was upon my feet in the twinkling of aneye, for, though a bookworm of late, and a city lawyer, I had been once a famous fellow for the chase, was a fiee rider, a good shot, and altogether a good deal of a hunter. It, had been a passion with me once, but-what has poverty to do with passion X Mine seem- ed bent equally to interfere with me in my pursuit of deer and dear. I thought of Beatrice, and the last night's conversation with the Major, the moment I opened my eyes; and I confess I looked at Ned Bulner, born to fortune and having it forced upon him, as it were, with a momentary feeling of envy. Thanks to the Virgin, I soon dismissed the despicable feeling with scorn. , . , "JBUICKSB, HAVE AT YEi ALL.- Di The frank, noble features of my friend, in which every secret feel- ing of his soul was declared, soon set mine to rights; and I said to myself--"Be it so! At all events, Beatrice, whether you get Ned Bulmer or myself, you will be equally fortunate in the possession of one of the best fellows in the world." It might have made Ned blush had I repeated this compliment in his ears, sfoI pru-- dently kept it to myself, satisfied that there was no sort of necessi- ty for my own blushes. Adonization is not a difficult process with the hunter, when the dogs are at the overture. I had soon made my toilet.. Our guns had been put in order the night before. By candlelight we now loaded them. Then followed a bowl of coffee all round, and the horn of the old Major sounded for the start. We were soon off at an easy pace, having about two miles to ride before we reach- ed the stands. These were well known places, gaps and openings, by certain ifavourite runs of water, or crossing places from wood to wood. The simple secret of a hunter's stand, is to find out the avenues which the deer lays out for himself. All animals are creatures of habit, and, unless 'under good and sufficient reasons, the herd usually adheres to its ordinary pathways. But these, in a very large tract of forest, are apt to be numerous, and to require a large number of hunters. Our present drives, however, were small ones, and soon covered. There were no hunters in our pres- ent party, butthe Major, Ned, myself, and the overseer, a spright- ly and intelligent young fellow named Benbow.'In all probability the name was that originally of an old English lcher, and was corrupted and contracted from Jack, or Dick, Bercthe Bow, to its present narrow and unimpressive limits of two syllables short. We had all of us stands, each watching his avenue. Sam, the negro driver, put in with the dogs, some three quarters of a mile above us, eating his way through all the denser coppices of a thick mixed- wood of scrubby oak and pine, having a close underbrush, and sundry good feeding places, from which the fire was carefully kept page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. out. But I must not linger on these details. Every body nearly knows what is the Usual deer hunting among the gentry of the South. There is little about it that is complicated; its success de- pending upon a knowledge of the drives, tie stands, a cool head, quick eye, sure shot, and occasionally a keen spur to the "flanks of ,a smoking courser; for it is no small accomplishment to know low to head a deer, and to succeed, by a swift circuit, in doing it. Let itsuffice that we had not long to wait.' The dogs soon gave tongue-the cries thickened-anon I heard a shot from the Major, who was just above me, and a few moments afte;' head forward tail up, strealing away for dear (deer) life, at about eighty yards to the left, I got a glimpse of the victim, a buck in full feather i. e. with a ioble pair of blranches. It was instinct purely-a word and a blo, and the blow first. I popt way at him, and saw him describe a short turn, setting his head in the opposite direction. I concluded he had got it, but could not afford a second glance, as I caught sight of a cpuople of does following steadily his course, though'a little nearer to me than he had been when I first shot, and almost in the same line. I had another barrel, and bestowed it successfully. Down dropt one of'the brown beauties, and I sounded. The dogs, meanwhile, began to glimmer, on full foot, through the leaves. My horse was hitched twenty feet behind me. It took but a minute to unhitch and cross him, and I pushed for my victims. In a few, monmfents the MAjor came dashing up, like a iery boy of eighteen, shouting out- "Well, Dick, what's the sport.' I fancy you've wasted lead, for I gave it to the old buck that passed you, and I never miss. But you emptied both barrels."-- "Here's one of my birds'"I answered, pointing to the doe, from which we drove off the dogs, setting them on the track of the old buck, who had shed a gill of the purple fluid within fifteen steps of the place where the dead doe lay. .^ ' e . -i* s BUCKS, HAVE AT YE ALL?. 57 "Do you see that, Major," I said, pointing to the crimson drop- ? lets still warm upon the yellow leaves of autumn.' "Yes," said he, " a mortal hit! frothy; from the lungs! Push on, Benbow, or the dogs will tear the meat. But I am sure that he carries my lead also. I never missed him, Dick; couldn't do such a thing at my time of life." "Well, sir, we'll see. I can tell you, whJen the buck was near- . ing me, he didn't show -signs of hurt! There may have been two." "No! only one! I've surely hit him. I'll stake a cool hun- dred on it." , And we rode forward, Ned joining us meanwhile. The deer had left him entirely to the; right. He had seen nothing of either. We soon found the old buck, just dead. The shot that killed him was mine, given directly behind the right fore-quarter, as he pushed obliquely from me. But the exulting Major discovered other button holes in the jacket of the beast, to which he laid confident claim. It was not a matter which could be proved, so, according- ly, it was not exactly the matter to be discussed. We all readily recognized the claim of the old man to have certainly made his mark, if he had not exactly made his meat. It was admitted, however, to be quite a feather in my cap, that, fresh from the dingy chambers of the law, and the ponderous volumes of the fiosty wigs, I should still have had my nerves and senses in such good training for the sports of the field. "The law has not spoiled you for a gentleman and a hunter yet," quoth the Major encouragingly. "And that is saying something; for many's the pretty fellow whom I've known it ruin for all pro- per purposes." Our hunt was over by two o'clock, and our game bagged. When we reached " the Barony," we found it full of guests. Se- veral fine spirited fellows were there, the Porchers, Ravenels, Cordes, and others, as guests to dinner; and they were all full- page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] mouthed in their reproaches that they had not been summoned to the hunt. We made up a party for another day, and adjourned to dinner. Night found us still at the table, for the Major's wines had a proverbial smack of ancient magic. They were such as Me- phistophiles himself could scarcely have made to spout out from the best timber in the Black Forest. Whist that night, and whis- i key punch in the library, kept us busy till twelve, when, by com- mon consent, we called in Morpheus to light us to our chambers. CHAPTER VIII. INTRIGUE AND LOVE--SHUFFLING THE CARDS. DAYS and nights pass with singular rapidity at a southern plan- tation. Visitor succeeds to visitor, dinner to dinner, and every day is employed, during the winter holidays at least in preparing for the recreation of its successor. What, with old acquaintances to be seen, and the promotion of Ned's affair, I was incessantly em- ployed. Besides,' the Major's circle was perpetually full; and I A was fiequently detained at "the Barony" engaged in seeing visi- tors, when both Ned and myself desired to be abroad. The day after the hunt, after making a circuit and two or three calls, we found ourselves, at one o'clock, once more at the Girardin estate, where I left my friend, to make another visit to the stately Ma- dame Agnes-Theresa. Ned, meanwhile, wandered off to the grove between the two places, an anxious waiter upon that friend- ly Providence which is 'supposed generally to take the affairs of love in hand. Talk of true love's course not running smoothly! The fact is, that, after certain consideration and a certain experi- ence, I am assured that few true lovers ever have much reason to complain. Love has an instinct in discovering its proper mate, ;t. INTRIGUE AND LOVE-SHUFFLING THE CARDS. 59 and suppose there are obstacles? These really heighten the charm of pursuit, and increase the luxuries of conquest. Stolen fruit is proverbially the sweetest, and stolen kisses are such as the ,:1 lips never quite lose the taste of. The first kiss lingers in memo- j ry, softening the heart to fondness, even after the time has passed when any kiss affords a pleasure; and, to man or woman, I sus- pect, he or she who has first taught us the subtle and delicious joy of that first kiss, is remembered with a sense of gratitude, even when there is no warmer emotion inspired by the same person. To Ned and the lovely Paula, I am persuaded that the stolen in- terviews which I succeeded in procuring them, will be among their dearest recollections in after days. Not that dear little Paula ever crept away to that grove without fear and misgiving. She wasn't sure that it was right to do so; but that did not lessen the pleasure of the thing. Again and again they met, and the child murmured, and sighed, anrid wept, and was made happy thr6ugh all her fears and tears. And Ned was happy too, though he al- ways came back growling from the interview. It was always so short. Paula was always in such a hurry to break away! Cer- tainly, make them as happy as you please, you cannot easily make young lovers contented. He who ste the fruit, is always sorry to leave the tree behind him. Enough, that on this, as on the :preceding evening, I was quite successful in beguiling the grandmother with long discourse, thus affording Paula an oppor- tunity to steal away and meet her lover. Do not be angry with her, ye prudes who have survived these sympathies of seventeen. You have done likewise, every one of you, in turn, or, if you have not, the merit of forbearance was none of yours. You would have done so, loving w-ith the innocent fondness of Paula, and with such a manly and noble swain as Ned Bulmer to persuade you to the groves. Well, they met, and mingled sighs and pro- mises of fidelity; but in vain did Ned entreat his beauty to a clandestine marriage. Believing that he should never conquer J i . I ',. page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. the prejudices of his father, or subdue the stubborn pride of Do 'dame Bonneau, Ned was thus desperate in his projects, But -sweet little Paula was film on this subject. ' I will never love any but you, Edward-never marry any but you-but cannot consent to a secret marriae." "But they will always oppose us, Paula!" said the lover, vehe: mently. "Then I must die 1" murmured the maiden, with her head drooping on his bosom.. And then he protested that she should not die; that he would sooner die himself; nay, kill a great many other people, not omitting the obstinate grandmother, and the cruel father, and many other desperate things; all of which dear little Paula begged him not to do, " for her sake,"-and for her sake only, he magnanimously consented to forbear these bloody performances. But why linger on the- child prattle, of young lovers--so sweet but so simple; so ridiculous, ' to our thoughts, as we grow older; yet so precious 'and full of meaning when we took part in it, and in which the heart never becomes quite too old to partake, when ever the opportunity and the object are af- forded it. At last they separated, with the sweet kiss, and the as-6 suring promise of fidelity; both believing implicitly as if specially guaranteed by heaven. Paula reappeared, and relieved me of 'my friendly drudgeries with grandmamma, suffering the, same re- buke, as before, for her disappearance. The next day, the Major, Ned and myself, rode over to Mrs; Mazyck's, about four miles dis- tant, to make our obeisance. Our readers know what are the objects of the' Baron.' Ned, already, I fancy, suspected the de- signs of the father, from the pains he took to discourage them. But, supposing me ignorant of these designs, and knowing my passion for Beatrice, he was scrupulously careful to avoid the sub- ject. His deportment, when we met the ladies, gave me no occa- sion for jealousy. We spent an hour with them, and the Major, devoting himself to the mother, left the field to us wholly, so far : tLOVE AND INTRIGUE-SHUFFLING THE CARDS. 6i as the young lady was concerned. Ned, in a degree following his father's example, now left the field to me, and strolled off from the parlour into the library, giving me sufficient opportunity to play what card I pleased in the game. When the Major and Mrs. Mazyck returned from the garden, whither they had gone to trace the progress of certain rare seedlings in the hot-house, they found Beatrice and myself, alone together. The mother looked grave, and the Major impatiently asked after his son. Of course, neither of us knew where he was.- When he was heuted up, we found him stretched, at length, on the sofa in the library, enveloped in the most downy em- braces of sleep. i The Major roused him with a fierce shake of the shoulder, and looked at him with the scowl of a thunder- storm. Ned took the whole affair very quietly'; and we mounted our horses a few moments after. When fairly off, and out of the gates, the old man blazed out with his volcanic matter. "A d-d pretty puppy you are, sir, to go to sleep when visit- ing a lady! Do you not know, sir, how much I respect Mrs. Mazyck, sir ." "Well, sir, so do I, but you took her off yourself. You did'nt leave me to ent rtain her, I had reason to be jealous, sir, of your attentions." "Jealous! T e d -1! But I left you and Dick to entertain the young lady, sir." "And I assur' you, father, that Dick is perfectly adequate to the task alone. I felt that I should be de trop." "De--what! why the devil will you abuse my ears with that atrocious lingo? Leave it off, sir, if you please; in my hearing, at least. I repe , sir, you treatred Miss Beatrice with marked di respect." "You ame quite mistaken, sir. I treated her with marked con- sideration. Asl: the question of herself, and she will tell you that she greatly appreciates the attentions which I paid her. Be - i page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 r THE GOLD1EI ClHRISTMAS. assured, she has no sort of cause for, or feeling of, disappoint- ment." . "Blockhead! you know not the mischief you do by this con- duct." "Indeed, sir! Pray how Anythig serious? "Puppy!" exclaimed the complimentary sire, looking at me with a glance, as if to say--" what a beautiful game of mine does the fellow strive to spoil,"-but he forbore his speech, and only used his spurs; driving them into his horse's flanks, and setting off at a canter that soon left us far behind him. "Let him go, Dick, while we quietly jog on, and do the civil thing to one another. Dad is by no means in a complimentary mood to-day. The truth is, he is for making up a match between Beatrice Mazyck and myself, but that match won't burn, mon ami. I see what he's after, and must prepare for the explosion, It will blow out, and blow over, before many days." When we got to " the Barony," the Major was no where to be seen. lHe had retired to his chamber to soothe his anger by a temporary resort to solitude. "But," says Ned, " solitude was aneer a favourite passion with him; and we shall have him down upon us directly. Meanwhile, let us have some wine." We had just filled our glasses when the old man, sure enough, made his appearance. He was cloudy, but no longer savage. He treated me with rather marked civilities, which I did not exactly like; but for Ned he had very few words. Dinner brought him soothing; and that night, when Ned left us together, as he thought it his policy to do, the Major recovered his wonted kindness and frankness, over a hot glass of whiskey toddy. "That boy put me out to-day, Dick, as he gave you all the chances. Of course you made the best Use of them. I confess it makes me angry. His reluctance spoils a favourite plan. I don't despair of him yet, and the game will need to be played I LOVE AND INTRIGUE-SHOU]XFLING THE CARDS. 6 frequently, b fore it finishes. You have made a point in it; and I could almo t say that I am glad, for your sakq, that you have. Certainly, Dick, though you may see me ruffled with that cub of mine, in this matter, don't suppose that I shall ever feel any un- , kindness tow ds you. Go ahead, as I said before. There shall be ' fair play' between us." Such was the purport of our chat that night, the Major get- ting over his moody humour before he had entirely got through his toddy. And so, day and night went by in rapid succession; society daily; the hunt, the dinner, the visitor, ahd, I confess, the nightly potation, sometimes with larger liberties than are usually accorded by the just Temperance standards. Another morning call upon Madame Girardin, which she received only as my own proper tribute to herself-proof of my good taste and good sense, and her ackliowledged rights-and then came a formal invitation to the widow Mazyck's on a certain evening, by which we knew that a grand party was intended. Ned smiled, as the billets were handed in by the wailer. "Miching malico!" quoth he. "The fight thickens, Dick.- It will soon become Highly interesting. Well; we shall go of course. I have a faith in parties, and some taste for them. I love dancing, and I shall find Paula there, who is an angel on the wing on such occasions. I mean to be quite attentive this time, so that Dad shall have no reason to complain. Whether I shall altogether please him by the sort of person I shall choose, on whom to bestow my attentions, is a question which he may re- solve for my benefit, or his own, hereafter." When, an hour after, in the library with the Major, he showed me his invitation, and said-- "Well, Dick, here are the chances for both of 1is. I shall have a talk with Ned, and try to spirit him on to his duty. He can't al- together neglect the lady-; and when he sees Beatrice in contrast with his little Frenchified puppet, I am in hopes that le will see page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] U64 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. her somewhat with your eyes. At all events, Dick, if we are to be beaten by you in the ganme, it will be some consolation to me that you are the successful player. But I shall do my best to thwart you, my boy, if I can, so long as it is possible to do any thing for Ned. But all in love, Dick, be assured; nothing in malice! And with a warm and friendly gripe of the hand, we separated for the night. CHAPTER IX.4 ' Let me help you to a wife, sir." "Help yourself, sir."--Old Play. "LET US suppose the time to have elapsed, and the night to have arrived for the party at Mrs. Mazyck's. We set out an hour by sun for her place, the Major and Ned taking the buggy of the latter, while I accompanied Miss Bulmer, the maiden sister of the former. The Major contrived this arrangement the better to in- form his companion, along the way, touching his wishes, and the particular deportment which he expected of the latter, when he had reached the scene of action. He had, during the day, been showing me, in part, what he meant to say to Ned; painting Beatrice Mazyck to me in the most glowing colours, and evidently memorizing, for future use, certain wonderfully flowery phrases, which he had recalled from his early reading of such poets as had been popular in his day. He was as impatient for the hour of starting as myself, and we set off, all of us, under some excite- ment; Ned anticipating all that he should hear; the Major anx- ious to be delivered of his eloquence; Miss Bulmer thinking ol large revenues of parish chit chat; and I, shall I confess it, eagei I?? "ET ME HELP YOU TO A W IFE, SIR.' 65 for the meeting with one whom I yet approached with fear and trembling, no less than love! Ned and his father followed us, the latter having delayed his movements purposely to suffer the carriage to go ahead. To my friend, subsequently, I owed a full account of the conversation. 'The Governor,' said he, 'began with a long exordium, intend- ing to show me that he had lived solely for my happiness and not for his own. To hear him, one would suppose, that, but' for the well-beloved son, he would have been better pleased to lie down in the grave in peace. Yet no man loves a good dinner more sincerely, or smacks his lips after a glass of madeira with a more infinite sense of prevailing thirst. To see me happy and successful--to see me well married, in brief, before he died-was to him the only remaining desire of his life. He asked me almost sternly, if I did not believe the marriage state, the natural and proper state of man? I told him-tas I really thought-' and of woman too.' 'No jests, Ned,' said he, 'the subject is a very serious one.' 'Even gloomy I should say, sir, judging from your visage and tones at this moment. Really, sir, if you look so wretched on the subject, I shall be frightened forever from its con- sideration.' ' Pshaw! you are a fool,' said he, ' it is so far serious as- the subject of human happiness is the serious question of hu- mah life.' 'Don't, agree with you!' said I. 'I don't see that we've any need to bother our brains with such a subject. The business of mortal life is not happiness, if it be true that our busi- ness is the establishing of a right to happiness hereafter. I sup- pose it is the proper question for mule, horse, cow or dog, which have nothing but the present to take care of; but is clearly not the one for us.' 'And what is the question for us; Mr. Philoso- pher?9 ' Clearly duty! ' Precisely,' quoth the Governor, ' and is it not your duty, at acertain time in life, to get yourself a wife?' 'Tol- erable rhyme enough,' said I, ' no matter what may be the value of the philosophy.' ' Don't vex me, Ned,' said he, 'but speak seriously. 6* page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. Don't you conceive it to be your duty, now that you are twenty- one, or near it, to be looking about you for a help-meet ' 'Or a help-eat meat-which I take to be the more appropriate phrase usually.' ' You are enough, sir, to vex Saint Francis? Can't you answer a straight question?' ' How can that -be a straight ques- tion which concerns a rib ' What a vile attempt at wit! A punster is always a puppy! ' 'And if so a physician!' 'Why, sir.' 'He deals in bark!' 'Pshaw, Ned! Have done with that, and answer me like a man of sense. I tell you that I am very serious. I contend that you ought to be thinking of a wife.' 'Well, sir, I have given you to understand that I have been think- ing of one.' ' What! that little Bonneau! - But that's out of the question, I tell you. I will never consent to any such folly. Let me choose a wife for you?' Really, sir, that's almost as reasona- ble a demand as if I had claimed the right before I was born to have chosen my own mother. I protest, sir, I hold it abominable that, not content with choosing for yourself, you should also assert the privilege of selecting for me the mother of my children. Don't you think, sir, that you might just as reasonably make it a requi- sition in your will, that your grand-children, male or female, shall only marry persons of a certain figure-measured proportions, de- fined temperaments, colour of hair, and skin, form of chin and mouth-all-accurately described?' 'And it would be a devilish sight better for the race, could the thing be done. We should then have fewer puppies and dolls to destroy the breed in noble families. But to the point. I tell you, sir, you must think no more of this little Frenchwoman.' ' Frenchwoman, sir! Vhy Paula Bonneau is as much an American and a South Carolinian as yourself.' 'The Americans are not a race, sir. As for the South Carolinians, sir, I doubt if, just at this moment, we ought to speak of them at all. I am not satisfied that the subject aBffords us any cause of satisfaction. We are not in a condition for boasting, sir, any longer. All of our great men have gone; and F . , I LET ME HELP YOU TO A WIFE, SIR. 6 the labours of our little men, to put on the strut of greatness, is tI that froggish emulation of oxlike developement which the old fable finds for our benefit. Indeed, the condition of our country is one of the reasons why I am so anxious that you should marry wisely. There is nothing so important as that you should get a woman, sir, a real woman, and not a child-not a chit-as the mother of ti ,my grand-children. I want the name of Bulmer, sir, transmitted through a race fearless in spirit, generous in impulse, active in thought, and noble in figure. Sir, it is impossible that such lopes can be realized in wiving with such an insignificant little thing-' 'Stop, sir,' said I, 'go no farther. I will listen to you reverently enough so long as you forbear what is offensive to Paula Bon- neau!' The old man muttered something savagely between his closed teeth; then, impatiently-' Well, sir, I will endeavour not to tread upon your corns, since you are so monstrous sensitive about them. I will say nothing in disparagement of the one, while urging the claims of the other lady. Ned, my son, you do not doubt that I love you; that I think for you, strive for you, and that my chief solicitude in life is that you may be settled in such a way, before I leave it, as will be most likely to ensure your happiness.' The Governor was evidently disposed to try the pa- thetic on me. ' But, sir, you are hardly likely to do this, if you deny me the right of thinking for myself. On a matter of this sort, sir, a young man is more apt to be tenacious of his rights, than upon any other subject. I am perfectly persuaded that you should choose a horse for me, sir., I know you have an excellent, eye to horses, can trace blood and determine pedigree to a fraction, and know the good points of draught or saddle horses at the glance of an eye. I am not unwilling to believe, sir, that your judgment- is equally infallible in hounds and pointers. I've ob- served that, sir, a hundred times. In the matter of dogs and horses, sir, I would leave everything to your judgment; but real- ly, sir, regarding a woman, or a wife, by standards wholly differ- page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. ent, I confess, if a wife is to be chosen, I should prefer pleasing my own eye to- pleasifig yours. I assure you, sir, that if it were your present purpose to choose one Jr yourself, I should not in- terfere with zour judgment in the slightest degree.' 'You are enough t/ irritate a Saint, Ned Bulmer, and I have half a mind to take you at your word, marry again, and cut you off without a shilling. But I know you for a teazing puppy, and you shan't ruffle me. If I did not know. that you conceal a good heart and a noble nature under this garment of levity-did I not know that you have a proper veneration for me as your father, sir, I should tumble you headlong out of the buggy. You shall hear me nev- ertheless. I want you to marry. I have said so. You wish to marry.' 'I have said it.' 'But not the right woman. Now, I have chosen the right woman for you; I have opened a negocia- tion with Mrs. Mazyck for her daughter, Beatrice, for you!' ' What, sir, have you two wicked old people devoted us as a burnt offer- I ing, two innocent lambs to the sacrifice, without so much as say- ing a word to either of us on' the subject.' 'I am saying it to you now.' (But after you have managed every thing. And here you would drag us away, with flowers perhaps about our brows, and chain us, a pair of consecrated victims at the altar of your pride and avarice. Shame on you, papa, and shame on you, mamma, for these cruel doings.' The mock heroic was too much for the old Major's philosophy. But his rage strove -with the lu- -dicrous in his fancy. He swore and laughed in the same breath. 'Papa,' I continued, 'you're going to make me behave cruelly. Whenever you say or do a foolish, or wicked, or cruel thing, I'l whip the horse. You'll see! I can't lay the whip on you, but I'll show my sense of what you deserve, by scoring the flanks of White Raven! I will! I owe him more than twenty cuts al- ready.' And, saying these words, I popped the lash over the quarter of the horse twice or thrice, before he could arrest my hand. ' Why, are you mad ' said he, seizing the whip, or making * - 1 * \ * ?! 4;LET ME HELP YOU TO A WIFE, SIR? . 6( an effort to do so. 'No, sir, not mad, but highly indignant. Somebody wants a sound whipping, and-I must bestow it on something.' 'Well,' said he, with more comnposure than I expect- ed, 'I fancy your next proceeding will be to try your whip on my shoulders.' ' Oh! no, sir! never; though, if you were seriously to ask mg the question, I should say, that if grand-papa were still living, I should be apt to request him to subject you to some of the ancient forms of mortification and flagellation.' 'INed,' said he, 'my dealr son, let me entreat you to give me your serious attention. Believe me, I was never more serious in my life. I wish you to look upon Beatrice Mazyck with the eyes of a lover, and pay all proper court to her in that capacity. I have spoken with her mother. She favours the match, and I am therefore really and earnestly committed to her. Now, my son, do' not forget what you owe to the wishes of your father. It is probable that Mrs. Mazyck has spoken with Beatrice, even as I have spoken with you, and, in all probability, the young lady will expect your attentions, as I know her mother will. Do not trifle with her feelings, my son, and I pray you respect mine.' He said a great deal more, when, becoming seriously vexed, I kept still while 'he exhausted himself. Finding I still kept silence, he asked- Well, Ned, what do you say? ' What can I say, sir? It seems to me that I am the person for whom a wife is wanted. I choose one woman, and you another. I don't see, sir, how we are to re- concile our differences in taste.' But, Ned, the woman of whom you speak is by no means suitable.' 'That, sir, seems a question proper only to myself to determine. The whole question resolves I itself to this. Either I am under a despotism, or I am not. You would not undertake, sir, to force me to eat cabbage at your table whether I wanted it or not. Yet, sir, it would be quite an innocent tyranny to force me to eat cabbage against my will, compared to that of compelling me to take a wife against my will' ' Do you mean to compare Beatrice Mazyck to a cabbage .' 'Heaven for- page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 . THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. bid, sir, that I should do any thing so irreverent or ungallant.- But I do not take to Beatrice, nor I suspect, she to me.' 'B ,try her, at least. 'Why, sir, when I don't want her, and whe in all probability, she is as little desirous of me .' 'For my sak Ned, do the courteous thing, and we know not but you will con to relish one another.' 'I will do anything in reason for yoi sake, father, but this is not reasonable; and your intriguing neg ciations with the mother of the. one lady may do equal wrong 1 her and to myself, and lead to confusion, if not misery, all rounc 'It's too late now, Ned; I am commited-think of that! I a: committed! .M y honour is committed. Your father's honoui 'You have no doubt erred, sir,' but your committal is one fi which reason, common sense, human nature, will all furnish yc in a moment, a reasonable apology to any reasoning and intel] gent mother. But, that you are committted, does not seem to n to involve any necessity why you should commit me also. Th philosophy is that of the old fox, who went once too often to tl rat-trap, and then discoursed to his brethren of the indecency 4 wearing tails. Yoti have never found me a wilful or disobedier son, my father; why force me now, by a tyranny which societ no longer tolerates--whch has become wholly traditional wit the tales of Blue Beard and other Barons--not of Carolina--t show that insubordination which I never exhibited before.' 'T ranny! You call me a tyrant, Ned?' 'According to my n( tions, if you urge this matter, you will be. People think diffei ent]y about tyranny and tyrants. One man, doing a merciles act, will fancy no cruelty in the performance if he smile upon th X victim, and use the gentlest language, while he goads him to e3 tremity. Your Jack Ketch is a notorious humanitarian-a fello0 of most benevolent stomach, who will beg your forgiveness an, your prayers, while adjusting the knot in ' gingerly fashion' uL der your left lug. I've no doubt you'd carry me to the altar,- which, unless I am suffered to choose my own wife, I'd as lie R :OW WE DANCED, AID SUPPED, AND 0--ORTH! q1 should be the halter-with the most parental tenderness. You'd try to reconcile me to the rope by giving me a glorious wedding- supper, and the next morning, I should receive deeds conveying to me your best plantation and a hundred negroes. ' Well, sir I. 'Well, sir, I say, rather than marry the wife of another man's choosing, I'd fling deed, and estate, and negroes into the fire, and plough my own road to fortune in the worst sand lands of the country. You have not the fortune, sir, even if you gave me all that you have and could bestow, that can reconcile me to the bitter physic you require me to take as the condition by which it is obtained.' With that I scored the horse, saying as I did so- 'But here we are, sir, at Bonneau Place; I suppose it will be pro- per only to say to more, just now, on the subject.' He put his hand on my arm- My dear Ned, for my sake, do the civil thing by Miss Mazyck. Pay her every attention, dance with her, see her to supper, and-' 'Enough, my dear father, enough! I shall certainly not do anything to forfeit the character of a gentlemanl But, be sure,- I shall not do any thing which shall lead her to sup- pose that I am ambitious of the attitude of a lover.' The old man threw himself back in the buggy in a desponding attitude, muttering something which I did not make out, and in the next moment we dashed into the court among a dozen other vehicles. CHAPTER I. HOW WE DANCED, AND SUPPED, AND SO--'ORTH! THE Mazyck establishment was on an extensive scale. It was its ancient baronial features that had insensibly impressed the imagination of Major Bulmer. The house was a vast one for our country--a massive mansion of brick, opening upon a grand pas- page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 7z2 4TE GOLDNt CMRtSTMAS. sage way, or hall in the centre, from which you diverged into double rooms on either hand. These were of larger size than usual in our country seats. These also had wings, consisting each of a single room over the basement, and lower by one story than the main building. One of these, devoted to the library, was thrown open on the present occasion. The other was a sort of state chamber, meant for guests of distinction, special favourites, or for newly married couples. The floors were magnificently car- peted, and the rooms elegantly furnished. They were already beginning to fill on our arrival; the custom of the country differ- ing from that of the city in requiring the guests to come early, however late they may be persuaded to stay. Very soon the bus- tle of first arrivals was at an end; only now and then, an occa- sional annunciation betokened some visitor who still held to the city rule of late arrivals, or who, most probably, was ambitious of an innovation upon country habits. A vulgar self-esteem always comes late to church or into society, if only with the view of mak- ing a sensation. At eight o'clock tea was served, with the usual accompaniments of cake and cracker. Quite a creditable display of silver plate was justified by this service, and the green bever- age sent up such' savoury odours of the Land of Flowers, as would have stirred even the obtuse olfactories of Sam Johnson. Sup- pose the company all arranged, rather formally around the par- lour, with glimpses of groups of young persons especially in the library, all busy in the kindred occupations of tea and talk, fifty cups smoking and as many tongues making music, and we may now look round the circle, and take in its several aspects. Tall, stately, the form and features of my antique friend, Madame Ag- nes-Theresa, rise, supreme over all presences, in erect dignity, starched cap and handkerchief, scant locks of pepper and salt, and sharp eyes that suffer no evasion or escape. I approach, I bend before her, I crave to be blessed with her smiles, and she accords them. But where- is pretty Paula? In the library with the $ - X 2OW WE DANCED, AND SUPPED, AND SO-FORTH! 71 young people. Ah! and Ned Bulmer is already hovering about her, as the moth about the flame. The Major sees him not as yet, being exceedingly earnest in his attentions to Mrs. Mazyck, The veteran is displaying the graces of manner which constituted the ton thirty-five or forty years ago. Then it was all elaborate courtesies-a bow was a thing of ceremonial--the right toe had its given route prescribed in one direction, the left in another-off at right angles; the arms were spread abroad in a waving course, the hands inclining to the knees-which, as the back was bent like a bow at the stretch,- enabled them almost to clasp them.- The head slightly thrown back, the chin peering out, an ineffable smile upon the lips, and a profound admiration expressed in the, eyes, and you have the attitude, air and manner of the ancient beau ready to do battle and die in your behalf. That. careless, effortless, informal manner, which marked the insouciant character of our day, was, with the excellent Major, only a dreadful proof of the degeneracy of the race. fellow now-a-days," quoth he;, enters a room, as if he sees nobody or cares for nobody; as if he owned pretty much all that he sees; he slides, or, rather saunters- in with the listless air of a man picking his teeth after dinner-anon, he catches a glance of somebody whom he condescends to know; and it is-' Ah, Miss Eveline, or Isabella, or Maria, or Teresa, how d'ye-glad to see you looking so-ah 1--well! and how's your excellent mam- ma? Hope the dear old lady keeps her own. Good for fifty years yet; and how long have you beenl from town? Very dull here; don't ye think so?--ah-h-h 1' yawning as if he had toiled all day and caught no fish. Talk of such fellows, indeed. They seem to be made out of nothing but wire and whale-bone, with a pair of butterfly wings which they can't fly with, and such a voice, like that of an infant frog with rather a bad cold for such a juve- nile. Sad degeneracy! Very different, Mrs. Mazyck, from the men of our day.' page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 THE OOLDEI CHRtSTMAS, Talking with Beatrice Mazyck, three removes from him, t con- trived to hear every syllable, and whispered her at the moment. He turned just then, and detected the movement. He -joined us in a second, and with a profound bow to the lady, and a smile of kindness to me, he said-- "I see you heard me, my dear Miss Beatrice, by the ughing smileIupon your countenance. I do not know whether you agree with me, or can agree with me, since you have no opportunity of k wing the manners of a day long before your own." "U nless,'I quickly and archly answered the lady, " unless from the excellent occasional example which has been preserved to the present time, and from which we are compelled to feel that there is more truth in your report, than we are willing to acknowledge. What say you, Mr. Cooper a" "Nay, do not ask him," said the Major, " for, of a truth, to do him justice, he is one of the few exceptions which the present day offers to the uniform degeneracy of its young men. Dick Cooper is a favourite of mine, and particularly so from his freedom from all affectations. He does'nt affect ease, by a most laborious suppression of dignity and manhood-to say, nothing of grace." This was very handsome of the Major, and I felt that I ought to blush if I did not, but I replied without seeming to notice the compliment. "I am inclined to think, Major, that the two periods simply oc- cupied extremes, neither significant of sincerity. In fact, conven- tional life seems of its own nature to forbid sincerity, inasmuch as it denies earnestness. Now, the school which you so admirably represent, Major, appears to me to have sought for finish at every sacrifice; and to have aimed at the application of court manners on reception days to the business of ordinary social life. I confess, for my own part, though I try to be as profound in my courtesies as possible, I can not well persuade myself to emulate or imi- tate, even if that were possible, the elaborate boyw with which you 75 HlOW WE DANCED, AND SUPPED, AND SO-FORTH! bent before Mrs. Mazyck, or even that still more elaborate, if less courteous obeisance which you made when passing Mrs. Bonneau.. There is no doubt that the contrast which you speak of is indica- tive of moral changes of a serious character in the race. As ,the court usher of Louis' XV. detected the approaching revolution in the ribands in the shoes of the courtier noble, in place of the golden buckle, so does the substitution of the jaunty, indifferent manner of the modern gentleman betray the dislike to form, re- straint, and all authority-in a word, that utter decline of rever- ence-which promises to be the great virtue in the eyes of ultra- democracy, the maxim of which is--' The world's mine oyster.' The eye of our times takes in all things that it sees, and at once acquires a right therein; and even the smiles of beauty, are things of course, which to behold is necessarily to command.- Whether we do not lose by this confidence in ourselves,-for this is the true signification of it all,--^s a question which I do not propose to argue. I am of the opinion, my dear Major, that a compromise might well be made between the manners of your day and ours--when ease of manrler might be regulated and re- strained by a courtly grace, and a gentle solicitude, and when dig- nity might be held back from the embraces of formality." "Ah! Dick, that would be ouite a clever essay, and full of suggestiveness, but for that atrocious word ' compromise.' The compromises of modern democracy are the death of our securi- ties, and democracy is but that ' universal wolf,' as described by Shakspeare,. "Which makes perforce an universal prey, And last, eats up itself." You remember the passage; and that which follows is the clue to the whole evil "This chaos when-Degree is suffocate, Follows the choking." The Major had got upon a favourith- text, and was not soon page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] - 76 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. suffocate himself. It is not possible for me to follow him, nor is itf desirable that I should. He gave me at the close a sly look, saying- "I must go see after Ned. Ah! Dick, if he only had the good taste which you have, an knew as well how to lead out trumps in a game like ours." This was all said in a whisper. He disappeared leaving me still to play the cards in my possession. What need I speak of the game? Suffice it that I played, not presumptuously, and yet I trust manfully. At all events, I secured the hand of .Beatrice Mazyck-for the first cotillion. Tea disappeared, an interregnum followed, in which the buz was universal, and mostly unintelligible except to a few who con- trived, like myself, to monopolize a corner and a companion. Soon, there was a slight bustle, and a fair-haired and fair-cheeked girl, a Miss Starke, from one of the middle districts, was conducted to the piano, which she approached with hesitating steps; but the hesitancy ceased when her fingers began to commerce with the keys. She executed the Moses in Egypt of Rossini, with a nice appreciation, and secured a very tolerable hearing from the audi- ence; a song followed from a Miss Walter, of some one of the parishes; and then a lively overture from the violin in the pas- sage-way silenced the piano for the rest of the night, signalizing a general and very animating bustle. There were two violins, one of them, as usual upon large plantations in the South, being a negro-a fellow of infinite excellence in drawing the bow. The other was an amiable young gentleman of the neighbourhood, whose good nature and real-merits as a musician, led him fre- quently to perform at the -friendly reunions in the Parish. Be- tween the two we had really first rate fiddling; and the carpets soon disappeared from'the hall and the opposite apartment to the parlour, affording 'ample room and verge enough for our pur- poses; and to it we went with a merry bound, and a perfect ex- , HOW WE DANCED, AND SUPPED, AND SO-FORTH t hilaration of the soul, wheeling about in-all the subdued graces ;- of the quadrille, and forgetting phlegm and philosophy in a i - moment. The dancers were surrounded by the spectators, and, with Beatrice Mazyck as my partner, I confess to being as little disposed for-grave thoughts and sober fancies 'as any of my neighbours. Your country ball is quite a different, sort of thing from that of the fas onable city. It is more distinguished by abandon. There is a lesa feeling of restraint in the one situation than the other. Nobody is critical, there are few or no strangers, not sufficient to check mirth or irritate self-esteem, and the heels fairly take entire possession of the head. I had not been in such a glow for months. I had not conjectured the extent of my own agility, and Beatrice swam through the circle, proudly and gracefully, as the Queen of . Sheba, over the mirrored avenues (according to the Rabbinical tradition) of Solomon. "You are a lucky dog, Dick," whispered the Major in my ears. "Your partner is worthy to be an Empress. That scamp of a son of mine, he has possessed himself of that little French devil, in spite of all I could say. Just look at her, what a little, insig- nificant tiing she is-yet she can dance-but that is French, of course. See how she whirls-egad! she can dance-she goes through the circle like a bird. But to dance well, Dick, don't make the fine woman!. No! no! Deuce take the fellow that has no eyes for a' proper object." I was whirled away at this moment, but when I got back to my place, he was there still, continuing his running commentary. "Look at Mrs. Methuselah, there-the stiff embodiment of Gallic dignity in the days of Louis le Grand--I mean, Madame Agnes-Theresa. Oh! she's a beauty. See how she smiles and simpers, as if she thought so herself. I suppose, however, it's only her pride that's delighted at the fine evolutions of her little French apology for a woman. And see, Ned, the rascal-he sees page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] '8 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. nobody but her. He does not dream that I am watching him all the while. I fancy, by the way, he does not greatly care! But I'll astonish him yet, Dick, you shall see! If he vexes me, I'll marry again, by all that's beautiful!" Well might the soul of Ned Bulmer be ravishedclout of his eyes. Paula Bonneau is certainly the most exquisite little fairy on the wing in a- ball-room, that ever eye-sight strove in vain to follow. Never sylph wandered or floated along the sands under the hallowing moon-light and the breathing spells of the sweet south, with a more witchke or bewitching motion. She was the observed of all observers; and it was a perfect study itself, ap- pealing to the gentle and amiable heart, to behold the rapt de- light in her stiff old grand dame's eyes, as she followed her little figure everywhere through the mazes of the dance. At that mo- 'ment, the old lady's heart was in good humour with all the world. She even smiled on Major Bulmer as he approached, though, the instant after, meeting with a profound and stately bow from him, she drew herself up to her full height, lifted her fan slowly With measured evolutions before her face, and seemed to be counting the number of lustres in the chandelier. "What a conceited, consequential old fool!" muttered the Ma- jor, as he passed onward. "Strange! that poor old French wo- man actually persuades herself that she is a human being, and of really the fairest sort of material." Had he heard the unspoken comment of Madame Girardin at the same moment upon himself! "It is certainly very singular that you can never make a gentle- man of an Englishman. Physically, they are certainly well made people, next to the French. Mentally, they are capable in sundry departments. They are undoubtedly brave, and, if the French were extinct, might be accounted the bravest of living races. They have wealth and numerous old families, but all derived from the Norman French. Still, there is a something wanting, without I , !l.[e t HOW WE DANCED, AND SUPPED, AND SO-FORTH! 7 which there can be no grace or refinement. They have the man- ners of oxen,-Bulls,-hence the name of John Bull, the propriety of which they themselves acknowledge. You cannot make them gentlemeni by any process." But these mutual snarlers and satirists did not disturb the pro- gress of the ball. My next partner was Paula Bonneau. I looked to see with whom Ned Bulmer had united his dancing destinies, curious to ascertain how far he was disposed to comply with the wishes of his father; but he-was no where that I could see, while Beatrice might be beheld floating away like a swan with my friend, Gourdin. The Major came up to me in one of the pauses of the drama. That cub of mine," says he, '" has let the game escape him again. I could wring his neck for him. He isnow hopping it with Monimia Porcher,-dancing with every body but the person with whom I wish him to dance. What does he not deserve!" And so the time passed till the short hours wore towards; and then between 12 and 1, the supper signal was given, when we all marched into the basement. I had secured the arm of Beatrice Mazyck in the procession; and when I entered the supper saloon, conspicuous near the head of the table was Ned Bulmer, supplying the ,plate of Paula Bonneau. The Major saw him at the same mo- ment, and was evidently no longer able to control his chagrin. He looked all sorts of terrors. Mars never wore fiercer visage on a frosty night. His fury lost him his supper, but he drank like a Turk in secret. Beaker after beaker of rosy champagne was filled and emptied, and when I returned up stairs with my fair compan- ion, I left him with the young meg still busy below at the bottle. When he came above, which was some half an hour after, he abruptly strode across the parlour to the spot where Ned was still in attendance upon'Paula. Come, sir," said he, "if you mean to drive me home to-night. page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] "U ruDUJEN CHRISTMAS. am ready-and you buggy isready, sir,-I have already or- Ned was disquieted at the summons, but he quickly saw that the old man's nerves were disordered by the wine, and the filial duty of the son became instantly active, prompting him to take him off, lest other eyes should, see his condition as clearly as his own. Hie said cheerfully- . I am also ready, sir, and will only make my bow to Mrs. Mazyck." "Bow be ---- muttered the Major. "You've been bowing it all night with a vengeance." This was scarcely heard by more than the son and myself. His sister, Miss Bulmer; upon whom I was in attendance, now came up. ("Brothiel;' said she, "hadn't you better take a seat with us in the carriage, and let Ned drive home with Tony only." "And why, pray," he responded sharply, ' should I change any of my plans? Amn I so old as to need back supportels and cush- ions? or do you fear that I shall catch rheumatisq Rheumatism never ran in my family. : No! no! I drive home as I came-in the buggy." A There was no more to be said. The Major, giving himself a fair start, crossed the room to Mrs. Mazyck and Beatrice, and to each severally, in the deliberate style of King Charles's courtiers, made his elaborate bow, the rig4i foot thrown backh- add toe turned out, as the base of the operation, 3a';d the left foot drawn with a sweep, so as to lodge its heel almost wthin -the inner curve of the right: arms describing the well known hailf circle, and body bent forward; so as to enable the hands, if they so wished it, to rest upon the knees. And the operation was over, and Ned and sire i passed out of sight, leaving Miss Bulmer in my charge. We did not linger long after. I had a few more sweet words to exchange with Beatlice-who treated me, evidently, with a greater degree of kindness than her good mother w? ---ae . .. -, I - , g . . was prepared to smile upon-and WHAT TURNS UP ON A DRIVE AND WHO TURNS OVER, 81 I' to roll forth sundry sentences of rotund compliment to Madame Agnes-Theresa, upon the performances o. Paula, whose bright eyes returned their acknowledgments for a very different sort of ser- vice. They took their departure before us, and I saw them to the carriage. It appears that Mrs. Mazyck had some private words with Miss Bulmer, and detained her after the departure of most of the guests. Of course, I did not scruple to enjoy a corresponding tete-a-tete with Beatrice, and had no complaints to make of the delay. This was much shorter than I could have wished, and, all too soon, I found myself in the carriage with Miss Bulmer, and hurrying off for "The Barony." Before we reached that place, however, other adventures were destined to occur, and those of a sort to require a chapter to themselves. CHAPTER XI. WHAT TURNS UP ON A DRIVE, AND WHO TURNS OVER. To drive by night, two or four in hand, through our dim but picturesque avenues of pine, faintly lighted only by moon or stars, is an operation that is apt to try the nerves and skill of the city bred Jehu, accustomed only to broad streets, under the full blaze of gas lamps every fifty yards. But to the country gentleman, the thing is as familiar as one's garter, and without a thought of acci- dents, he will start, for home at midnight, the darkest night, or drive to a frolic five or ten miles off, and never give the mere com- passing of that distance a moment's consideration. Persons bred in the country see farther and better than citizens. So do sailors. Neither of these classes, accustomed to broad and spacious land and water scopes, is ever troubled with the infirmity of nearsightedness. This belongs wholly to city life, where the eye, from the earliest page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] ! 82 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. period, is made familiar to certain bounds, high-walled streets and contracted chambers. A faculty grows from its use and exercise and is mole or less enfeebled by non-user. The eye, tasked only within certain limits, loses the capacity to extend its range of vision when the occasion requires it. The muscles contract, and the shape of the eye itself undergoes a change corresponding imme- diately with the sort of use which is given it. But, I digress. Exercised in the woods, night and day, the country gentleman never hesitates about the darkness, and starts or horne at all hours. Nobody, therefore, leaving the party at Mrs. Mazyck's, between one and two in the morning, ever regarded the lateness of the hour as a reason for not departing. Some few old ladies re- mained at Mazyck Place all night. The rest, in backwoods parlance, 'put out,' asesoon as supper was fairly over. Some had a mile or two only to go, and others found quarters among the- neighbours, as is the custom of the country everywhere in the South. Others pushed on for home, and some few went proba- bly eight or ten miles. We had barely five to go, and counted it as nothing. The night was clear but dark. The stars gave but a faint light,. sprinkling their pale beams upon us through crowding tree tops. The young moon had gone down early; but the horses knew the way as well as the driver, or bettel, and were bound homewards. Ours was a negro driver, and one of that class, with owl faculty and visage, which sees rather better in the night than the day. Itwas this faculty, rather than his personal beauty which secured for Jehu'-that was really his name-the honour- able place of coachman to Miss Bulmer. Off we went spinningly, whirling out of the court and-into the open road at a keen pace which promised to bear us home in short order. Miss B. well wrapped up, occupied the back seat of the carriage. I took' my place with Jehu, preferring a mouthful of the cool, bracing air of morning. Merrily danced the pines beside us,'-oaks nodded to us, doffing their green turbans as w e sped ; now we rolled through l WI AT TttRNS UP ON A DrItmE, AND WHO TURNS OVER. 83 a little sand hill, now we dashed the waters up from the bottom of a sandy brooklet. The faint light of the stars gives a strange, wild beauty to such a scene and drive, and I was lost in mixed meditations, in which groves were found pleasantly convenient, and through which I caught glimpses of a damsel, well veiled, coming to meet me, when I was disturbed in my reveries by Jehu suddenly pulling up the horses, and coming to a dead halt. "What's the matter, Jehu ." "There's a break down here, sir," quoth he, calling to the boy to descend, who rode behind the carriage,-"Go look, boy, see what's happen." - I could now distinguish a carriage ahead, and a confused group beyond it. A lantern was borne in the hands of some person who seemed moving with it across the road. Of course, I leapt down in a moment, and, begging Miss Bulmer to keep quiet, and bid- ding Jehu keep back, I went forward to see into the extent of the misfortune, and ascertain who were the sufferers by it. This was quickly known;-but, perhaps, I had better go back in my history, and report the progress of those whom the matter most concerned. I give particulars, now, which I gathered subsequently from certain of the parties. It appears that, from the moment of starting with his son, Major Bulmer began reproaching him with his conduct during the eve- ning, and his neglect of Miss Mazyck. He barely suffered the buggy to get out of the court yard and into the main road, when his indignation broke forth into angry \ords. "Well, sir; and how do you propose to excuse your conduct this evening." "My conduct, sir? I don't understand you. I really flattered myself that I had been doing the handsome thing all the evening, making myself very agreeable all round, and certainly fifding a great deal that was greatly agreeable to myself." page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS, "You are a puppy, sir, and a fool, with your self-complaisar I can tell you that, sir." "Choice epithets, certainly, and very complimentary." "Well, sir, you deserve them. Why do you provoke me?" "You provoke yourself, father. Speaking reasonably, sir, I nothing of which you can properly complain in my conduct." "Indeed, sir; and who, pray, taught you to speak reasonal No man, sir, speaks reasonably, unless he thinks rationally." "A logical conclusion, truly." "So it is,---and no man who acts -like a fool, can be held a i soning animal." "True, again, logically." "I say, sir, you are a dolt, a mere driveller, committing suic morally, and striving against those who would help you out deep water." i' Who would drown me rather-deny me the privilege to sv in the places which I most prefer." "Hear me, Ned Bulmer,-why do you not listen to what saying?" "I have been listening, sir, very patiently. Go ahead!" "Go ahead! Why will you, sir, knowing your family breeding, indulgein those vile samples of Western slang? Sp like a gentleman, sir, even if you do not understand how to beh like one!', Ned said nothing, gave the horse the goad, and waited for next volley. "Well, sir; after what I said to you on our way to Mrs.' zyck's,--after a full showing to you of what I desired-what you mean, sir, by so entirely slighting my wishes?" "Your wishes were not mine, sir," answered Ned very co( "and even if they were, sir, a ball room, thoe igh a very good p for a flirtation,fis not exactly the scene for a bona fide courtsh "I may grant you that, sir, but I did not ask that you we X WHAT?tRNS tP ON A DARVE, AND WHO TtTRNS OVER. 85 would make it the scene of a courtship. I only 'asked that you would offer such civilities and attentions to Miss Mazyck,-" "As she, her mother, and everybody else might construe to mean courtship." "You will oblige me not to finish my sentences for me, sir. I say, Edward Bulmer, that you were not even decently civil to Mrs. Mazyck and daughter." "(There I must deny you, sir. The matter is one of opinion. I contend that I was as civil, considerate and respectful in my at- tentions to both the ladies, as the elder had a right to require, and the younger desired to receive." And how know you, sir, what the younger desired to receive ." "By infallible instincts. The fact is, father, it is of no use to trouble me or yourself in regard to Beatrice Mazyck. I assure you, sir, that every body sees, if you do not; that another man has won her heart." You mean Dick Cooper." I do." "Well, sir, I have Dick's assurance, from his own lips, that there have been no love passages between them; that they are en- tirely uncommitted to each other." "And no doubt what Dick told you, sir, is -perfectly true; but things have changed since your day, sir.?eople have become more refined and less formal. It don't need, now-a-days, to make a declaration in words in order to be understood. In your day, when all gentlemen were moulded upon one model, and allaffec- tions spoke through one medium, and after a particular form- when, in fact, the affections were not recognized at all--and when father or mother could swap off their children as the condition by which alone they could unite certain acres of swamp and uplands,- such an intercourse as that of Beatrice Mazzyck and Dick Cooper would pass for nothing. Mais, nous avows change tout cela!" "Ah! d-n that gibberish. Speak in English if you will speak. page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 80{ THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. Though, by the way, speaking such consummate nonsens stuff as you do, perhaps French is the proper dialect. W what more;--use what lingo you please." "Oh! sir, any thing to please you. I have few more we say; and I do say, that, though no words may have been excl between Beatrice Mazyck and Dick, Cooper on the subjec their hearts, sir, are as irrevocably engaged, as if the Reverel Hymen, of the old Greek Church, had been called in to of Hearts, sir, have a language in our day, which was denied tl yours. -Perhaps this is one of the redeeming features ol democracy!" "You have talked a long farrago of nonsense, Edward B in which, as far as I can perceive, you have aimed at nothing than to accumulate together all those topics which, in their ri might offend me. I will meditate this hereafter. To mak complaints of your conduct more specific, why, sir, did you' yourself the whole evening to the Bonneau faction, negl wholly Mrs. Mazyck and her daughter.'" "Your charge is not more specific now than before. It is as easily answered. I join issue with you on the fact, sir." "What, do you question my word?" "No, sir, by no means,--only the correctness of your opi, "Sir, it is a matter of mere testimony. I beheld it with ml eyes." "Your eyes deceived you, father." "How, sir? Did you not dance repeatedly with Miss Bonne ' I did, sir." "Did you ever dance once with Miss Mazyck?" "I did not, sir." "Well, sir ;-yet you persist that you were attentive to the lady." "I do, sir, as far as it was possible I proposed to dance WHAT TURNS UP ON A DRIVE, AND WHO TURNS OVER. 87 her; and she was engaged. This sir, on two occasions-quite often enough, I think, to try a lady's mood towards you." "Edward Bulmer, is it possible that you resort to evasion! Sir, I know too well what is the practice with young men, where they wish to escape a duty. In my day, sir, and I confess I was guilty of this conduct myself, it was not unfriequently the trick-trick, I I say, sir, trick/!-to ask a lady after she was known to be engaged for the coming set. Now, sir, answer me honestly, was not this your trick, sir, on this occasion." "A practice deemed honourable in your day, cannot surely be regarded as, discreditable; and I have now only to plead vour own example, sil; if I desired to escape your anger. But, in truth, sir, I did not, on any occasion, know that Miss Mazyck was engaged to another partner when I asked." "But you conjectured it, sir,-you kept off untill the last mo- ment, sir. You well know that Beatrice Mazyck is not likely to hang as a wall-flower, and you gave everybody the desired oppor- tunity, sir. Edward Bulmer, it was a mere mockery of Miss Ma- zyck, to solicit her hand when you did." "She, I fancy, was very well pleased with that sort of mockery." "Sir, did you ever, on any one occasion, offer yourself to her for the second or third dance, when she pleaded previous engage- ment. That, sir, is a common custom with young gentlemen-is it not." "Yes, sir,-and one more honoured in the breach than the ob- servance. I don't approve of it myself, and don't encourage it in others." "You don't, eh! Well, sir, I made you a special request that you could see Miss Mazyck to the supper-table. Why did you not?" "Dick Cooper was before me, sir." "Dick Cooper before you! Yes, indeed, he will go before you all your life; That man will be somebody yet. Not a mere Jehu page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] $8 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. or Jockey, sir. He will not waste his life among the pumpkin: would to God he could drive into your empty noddle some of good sense and proper veneration which distinguish himself." "Well, sir, you will admit that if I'm unworthy of Miss Maz he is' not." "Who says you are unworthy, sir?" "My humility, sir." "D---n your humility. I wish you knew how to exercise the right place. You are a puppy and a scrub, and fit onlj such a petty little French popinjay as that-" "Stop now, father, or I'll be sure to upset you! If you sI disrespectfully of Paula Bonneau, you will certainly so outrage nervous sensibility, that I shall turn the buggy over into the bramble bush that I see; and then, sir, you'll be in the conditi( the man who lost both his eyes in a similar situation. You member the pathetic ditty- , And when he saw his eyes were out, With all his might and main, He jump'd into another bush, And scratch'd 'em in again." But that feat's not to be performed every day. You migh: from bush to bush between here and home, and fail to scratch your pupils." "Pshaw--you blockhead! But where the deuce are you ing, sir? You are out of the road." "No, sir,-I am in the road far enough. I confess I'm, or look-out for the briar patch; and should I see one,-- ;--" "Zounds, man, you are out of the road. I see the track t( left." 7 "No, sir, it runs to the right. I see it well enough. I w touch the reins, sir,-you'll do mischief." "Do mischief! You would teach your grandmother ho; eat her eggs, would you? Teach me to drive! You would WHAT TURNS UP ON A DRIVE, AND WHO TURNS OVER. 89 yoke a saint, Ned Bulmer! Give me the reins, or you will have us in the woods." "Fear nothing, sir; I see exactly where I am going. I see the road perfectly, every step of it!" "You see nothing, sir, I tell you, but your own perverse dispo- sition to foil me in every thing. If I did not know, sir, that you are a temperate man, I should suspect'you of taking quite too much :champagne to-night" Ned Bulmer could not resist the disposition to chuckle. "What do you mean by that laugh, sir? There, again,-you will have us in the woods. It is either your hands that are un- steady, or it is your horse that shies?" "Isn't it barely possible, sir, that it is the stars that shy?" was the response of Ned, conveying thus what was designedto be a very sly insinuation. But the Major's faculties had not been so much bedevilled as his eye sight. He caught the equivocal im- port of the suggestion in a moment. "Really, sir, this is most insolent. You are drunk, sir, posi- tively drunk, and will break both our necks, in this atrocious bugg'y. Give me the reins, I tell you." "Hold off, father," cried the son earnestly; "1 we are going right. There is no danger, but the road here is riarrow and the fence on the left. is pretty close." "Fence on the left! Where the d-1 do you see any fence on the left? Where do you think we are, sir?" This was the first time that Ned suspected that his father's sight was becoming bad. He knew not whether to' ascribe it to his own age, or that of the wine. "At Gervais's corner." Pshaw! we have passed it long ago. You are in no condition to drive. That's plain enogh.', With the words he grasped one of the reins furiously, whirled the tender-mouthed grey round before Ned could guard against the page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 THE GOLDEn (HRISTMAS. proceeding, and in a moment, striking the corner of the rail fenc the buggy was turned over, and the horse off with it. The Maj( made a sudden evolution in the air and came down heavily again the fence. Ned was pitched in among the pines, on the opposil side of the road, and both lay for a time insensible. CHAPTER XII. A GROUP ON THE HGHWAY. A NEW STUDY FOR THE PAINTER. IT is not yet known how long the father and son lay in this coi dition before they received assistance, They were first discovers "by the coachman of Madame Agnes-Therese Girardin, as he droi that lady and her grand-daughter slowly home from the ball. "Wha' dis yer?" quoth Antony, the coadhman. "I see some t'ing in de road." "What do you see, Antony?" demanded the lady. "I yer somebody da grunt," quoth Tony. "He's a pusson- (person)-he's a man for certain." "A man in the road, groaning!" said the old lady. "Petei Peter!"-to the boy riding behind. Antony drew up his horses i a full'stop. Peter jumped down and came forward. "Take one of the lamps, Peter, and see who is lying in tt road." The urchin moved promptly, and, hurrying forward, stoope over one of the victims, holding the light close to his face. E came back instantly. "Its Mass Ned Bullimer, missis." "Mr. Edward Bulmer!" said the ancient lady, and she hemme thrice and began violently to agitate-her fan. "Edward!--Edward Bulmer!" cried the young lady, almo A GROUP ON THE HGHWAY. 9 with a scream, beginning violently to agitate-herself. "Oh! mam- ma, let us get out and see. He is hurt. He is killed." "No, Miss Paula, he aint dead yet,--he da grunt." This was meant to be consolatory. "Be quiet, Paula, my child; do not excite yourself-we will - see-we will inquire. But--" "Open the door, Peter!" cried Paula, with an energy and resolu- tion which she did not ordinarily exhibit, and of which the old lady did not altogether approve, though the occasion was one which did not allow of any deliberation. Peter, meanwhile, opened the door of the carriage, and the young- ady darted out. "Stay, Paula, stay, till I get my cologne, and--" But the damsel was off, and a bound brought her to the side of her lover, stretched out partly upon the road, his shoulder resting' against a pine sapling. She knelt beside him, called to him with' the tenderest accents, and was answered by a groan. These groans! were signs of returning consciousness, at once to suffering and life. Meanwhile, the good grandmother had hobbled out, and approached the scene of action; a bottle of cologne water in one hand and her vinaigrette in the other. "Rub his head, my daughter, and sprinkle him with cologne; hold this vinaigrette to his nostrils, and tell him to snuff." Another groan, and then the maiden heard him in faint ac- cents say-"My father-see7-my father." "His father! Oh! Major Bulmer," quoth the old lady. "Yes, they went away together." "In de buggy, missis," interposed the knowing Peter. He him- self had opened the gate for the buggy, and had received a shil- ling for his attentions. "Look for him Peter," said the old lady-and she muttered to herself, as if to justify ler humanity, "He is one of God's crea- tures, at least; it is our Christiani duty only." And with these words she followed Peter in his search. page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS, The Major was found in the fence corner, lying partly across one of the stakes, which his weight had broken, his head striking against a rail. The old lady was quite terrified when she beheld him. His head had been cut, an ugly gash, ranging from the upper part of one ear to the temples. He was still bleeding freely. Antony was immediately summoned to bring the other lamp of the carriage, while Peter was made to mount one of the horses, in order to ride back for Dr. Porcher, ;who was at the party, and who, it was hoped, might be still found there., Madame Agnes- Therese, in the meanwhile, to her credit be it said, forgetting old prejudices and antipathies, forgetting all forms and restraints,; and stiffnesses and formalities, kneeling beside the insensible Major, proceeded to staunch the blood and close the wound. She had lived a long time in the world, and had acquired much of that household practical knowledge and dexterity which enables one to be useful in almost any emergency. And she pursued her pre- sent labour with a good deal of skill and success. The vinaigrette and the cologne were passed from patient to patient, as they se- verally seemed most -to need it. Antony was despatched to the branch, or brooklet, which they had passed only a few moments before, to bring his carriage bucket full of water. The faces of the two were sprinkled with water, cologne pouged into their mouths, and both seemed to revive about the same time. The first words of the father were significant of quite a different feeling from that which -he exhibited during the unlucky drive. "Ned, my dear boy; Ned, are you hurt? ' The old-lady, holding the lamp up to his face, endeavoured to press; him down, in order to keep him quiet. "Do not speak; do not agitate yourself, Major Bulmer; your son is doing well. ,He is not much hurt-not much, 1 assure you- I, Mrs. Girardin.'" "Heh!--you-Mrs. Gi ." He resolutely sate up, in spite of all her efforts, and stared her -* A GROUP ON THE HGHWAY. 93 in the face with a countenance in which surprise was so extreme as almost to seem horror. Fancy the spectacle. Madame Girardin holding the carriage lamp with one hand, kneeling on one knee, and with the other hand striving to press the old gentleman back- wards. He, now sitting, his arms supporting him in the posi- tion, with his hands resting on the ground; and staring with such a face into her own. He had almost recovered his senses quite, and astonishment had partly overcome his pain. It was at this moment, and while the expression was still upon his visage, that our carriage drew up to the scene of the accident. We necessa- rily halted also, soon got out, and almost as soon learned all the particulars. In a moment after, Dr. Porcher arrived, fortunately having met Peter on the route, and proceeded to examine into the condition of the sufferers. The evil was not so serious as we had at first reason to appre- hend. The real sufferer was Ned Bulmer, whose left arm was broken, and who was otherwise considerably bruized about the body. The Major had an acre of bruizes, according to his own phrase, over back and shoulders and sides. But, excepting the ugly gash over his temple, there was nothing to disquiet him for more than a week. But he had a narrow escape. The skull was uninjured, but a little more obliquity in his fall would have crush- ed it. As it was, the wound was really only skin deep; but it left an ugly scar forever after, which, as a fine-looking man, who had always been particularly well satisfied with his visage, occasioned the proprietor many and frequent regrets. But we must take our groups out of the highway. The arm of Ned Bulmer was temporarily bandaged, and we lifted him into the carriage with as much tenderness as possible. This carriage was Madame Girardin'g. The moment she discovered that each of the wounded men would require two seats, she graciouslyr ac- corded the use of her vehicle. Of the two, she perhaps preferred the sonho the father as an inmate; but dear little Paula, clinging page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. to her lover tenaciously, disposed of the matter without leaving any thing to the option of the grandmother; and, at her requisi- tion, as soon as Ned was fully restored to consciousness, the Doctor, myself and Antony, lifted him in, not a little helped by Paula. The same service' rendered to the Major, and the Doctor led the way in his own vehicle. We drove slowly, and day was dawning as we entered the court. The patients were carefully taken out, put to bed, and more methodically and scientifically attended to., But before Madame Girardin departed, and as she was preparing to do so, the Major begged to see her in his chamber. Mrs. Girardin, I am too feeble and sore to rise, but you will believe me, as feeling very deeply and warmly your kindness and the succour which you rendered to my son and myself." To which the old lady replied:- "Major Bulmer, you will please believe that I am grateful to God in permitting me to be of any help to any of his creatures." When she had departed, the Major said:- "VVell, I owe the old lady my gratitude. She has good stuff in her, though she is of French stock." The old lady had her comment also, muttered to-Paula as she rode :- "If Major Bulmer did not sometimes make himself so offensive by his pride,-his Bull family pride,--he might yet be made a gentleman." I must not omit to mention that, while the grandmother visited the father, the grand-daughter visited the son; but what was said between the two latter, has never, that I know of, been reported to any third person. rTHE PROGRESS OF DOMESTIC REVOLUTION. 9i CHAPTER XIII. \ THE PROGRESS OF DOMESTIC REVOLUTION. The misadventure, happening so near to Christmas-that seal son when we require to have all our limbs in perfection, our bodies free from bruises, and our spirits buoyant over all restraints,-was the great subject of annoyance with the Major. Christmas was as- signed by him for a great festival--a somethin'g more than was customary in the country, in which every body that was any body, (was to be at the Barony. The accident happened on the 13th of December. But twelve days, accordingly, were allowed to the sufferers to get well. With respect to the Major himself, this, per- haps, bating the scar upon the forehead, was not a matter of much doubt or difficulty. But the case was otherwise with poor Ned, whose arm, the Doctor affirmed, could not be suffered to go free of splint ad sling under a goodly month. What a month of vexation. . , at least, it seemed. But the good grows out of the evil, even as the cauliflower out of the dunghill. Evil, accord- ing to the ordinance, is the moral manure for good. The Major lost something of his imperious will in the feelings of self-reproach which seized upon him. He now beheld, what he ddid not then, that it was the champagne which he had imbibed, and not- that which he had imputed to his son, that had tumbled the pair into the pathway. He also began to suspect, what Ned would never have hinted to him, that age -was giving certain premonitions in the shape of a failing eye-sight. Strange that he had never seen that fence. Was it the wine or the years? Both, perhaps. This con- clusion humbled the old man. He sought the chamber of his son. "My dear boy," hi said, "I -wont ask you to forgive me, for such a request will give you more pain, I know, than any thing besides; but I feel that it is not easy to forgive myself. I had drank page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 86 Mtfl GOtDEl CaRISTMAS. too much champagne, that is certain. But I was angry with you, Ned,-and you know what one of our modern poets says;- "And to be wroth with those we love, Doth work like madness in the brain." ! am not sure that I quote literally, but I am pretty near it. I could not eat, and drank freely on an empty stomach. This made me wilful; and Ned, my boy, you provoked me. You were a lit- tle too cool,-too cavalier. Had you drank freely too--had you been angry or quarrelsome-all would have gone right. But, no matter now. It does not help to go over the same ground again." "No," quoth Ned, between a writhe and a smile, a grin and a contortion, not able to resist the temptation-"More likely to hurt-perhaps the other eye, the other arm." "Well," good humoredly responded the Major, "you are doing well, so long as you can perpetrate a pun." "Of old, you held that to be doing ill." "What another!I Dick,"--to me-" is he not incorrigible! But, Ned, my boy, you must hurry your proceedings. It won't do to have you laid up at Christmas. Get well as fast as you can, and, as an inducement, I have sent to town already, to Reynolds, ordering a new buggy. Your homse is badly hurt in the flanks. I must take him off your hands. You shall have two hundred dol- lars for him, or the pick of any draught horse in my stable--they are all free.' "1'll take the money, papa. I have suffered too much from yourfree draughts." "What a propensity. But I forgive you, considering your arm." "Strange, too, that I should owe my safety to that which I can no longer count upon." "A pun again! I give you up. But look at my phiz. Am I in a condition to call upon Madame Agnes-Theresa this morning." Ned looked up with some curiosity-anxiety perhaps-in his UP-- . s-I TE PROGRESS OF DOMESTIC REVOLttIO. 97 glance. We both agreed that the scar hadanhonourable appear- I ance. "Ah!" quoth the Major, I should not have been ashamed of it -had it been won in battle-driving an enemy instead of driving a horse." ' "At the head of the Fencthles, instead of the foot of the fence," murmured Ned languidly. "You did serve in the war of 1815, Major," was my remark. "Yes, after a fashion, along the sea coast; but we never had any encounter with the enemy. Their shipping lay in sight of the coast, and their boats sometimes put into the creeks and rivers, but " they fought shy of us." "Knowing, perhaps, that they would have to deal with shy fighters," quoth Ned. "No, indeed. We were brave enough, under the circumstances, Once we thought we had a chance. It was after night, but star- light; the tide was coming in, and one of our sentinels discovered a boat making straight for shore. We crouched among the sands, flat on our faces, making ready. When within gun shot, we poured in a terrific fire and rushed up to finish the work with the bayonets. We found the boat riddled admirably with our balls, but nothing in her but a junk bottle and a jacket, and both empty. She had drifted from the Lacedemonian man-of-war. Her capture was thought no small evidence of our prowess, showing how we could have fought. The Charleston papers were particularly elo- quent in our praise, and Inm not sure but salutes were fired from Castle Pinckney in our honour. It was no fault of ours that the British feared us too greatly to venture any soldiers in the skiff. That was our only achievement, unless I mention a somewhat inef- fectual fire at a barge, about seven miles off. It is barely possible that the enemy saw the smoke of our muskets. They could not i have heard the report. But, youi think I will do to see Madame. Girardin?" * , 9 .- {l t , . page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] O8 T THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "As well as any gallant of us all," was my reply. "Very good. I'll ride over this morning."?' "Eyes right, father, and look out for fences on the left." "Get out, you dog. Trust me, never again to take champagne or any other liquor on an empty stomach." "And, beware of the black dog, father." "The tiger is becoming pacified, Ned," was my remark after the departure of the Major. "He has had a bad scare. He will come round by degrees. All the symptoms are favourable." "He will give up some favourite projects then. His heart has been more eainestly set on this marriage than I had suspected. I am now convinced he has been planning it for months, and I have reason to believe that he opened the subjects to Mrs. Mazyck be- fore she went to travel last summer. He is tenacious of such matters." i"No doubt; and without some extraordinary event he would have continued so. This accident has been a great good fortune. The Major has too uniformly escaped successfully from those evils to which flesh is heir. Uninterrupted good fortune is quite too apt to harden the hearts o, the very best men. They finally be- lieve themselves to be entitled to impunity. It requires a disas- ter to rebuke arrogance; and one should pray for an occasional mischance, knowing our tendency to self-reliance. We must every now and then receive a lesson which teaches us that God is still the Ruler of the Universe, and that the richest, the strongest, the bravest, the wisest, are but feathers and straw before his breath. Your father has just had one of these excellent lessons. He has been taught the exceerling shortness of the step between an imperial will, a haughty temper, a glorious future, and suffering, agony, the grave, the loss of the thing most precious, the over- throw of the most cherished pride and vanity. You are the only son, and the very will which threatened to wreck your hopes, was based upon the desire to subserve your success and prosperity. X THE PROGRESS OF DOMESTIC REVOLUTION. 99 Strange as it may seem, parents are thus constantly employed, at once for the good and the mortification of their children. Keep up your spirits. Do not vex him. Say nothing of your hurts. He will see them, and suppose them, fast enough; and your very forbearance to complain will, in his mind, exaggerate the amount of your suffering. There will be a degree of remorse at work. within his bosom, which shall impel his moods hereafter in an en- tirely opposite direction." '"But, you do not augur any thing from this visit to Madame Girardin al . "By no means. As a gentleman, he could do no less. He had to go. There is no merit in the act. He owes the old lady and the young one the visit, and something more. But, there is some- thing favourable in-the fact that he does it willingly, cheerfully, and with a grace, showing that the duty is now by no means an irksome one. A week ago, and to be required to visit the Bonneau plantation would have been like taking a pill of myrrh and aloes.: Let us follow the Baron, and see the issue of his visit. When it was announced to Madame Girardin that Major Bul- mer was in the parlour, she was quite in a fidget. "Bonita," her own maid, a mulatto of Cuban origin, and '; Marie, the waiting maid of Paula, were both summoned. 'Bonita, what has become of my mantua cap? Marie, I told you to put away my Valenciennes. Dear me, Paula, I can find nothing, and these servants are positively in the way of each other. They are certainly the most awkward and useless creatures in the world. Paula, child, do look into your drawers for the Valenci- ennes tippet. Ah! there it is. Paula, child, do fix me,-pin the cap for me, and put on that bunch of crimson ribbons. Crimson always suited my hair best, and complexion. - Do get away, Bo- nita-you only disorder me. -You are getting quite too fat and clumsy for any useful purpose about house. Il1 have to send you page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. into the field., Heavens, what will Major Bulmer say to being kept so long? Why, Paula, where are you, child?" Paula was already down stairs. Madame Agnes-Theresa was still a long time fixing. For years she had never taken such painis to caparison herself for any encounter with the other gender. Strange! that she should be so solicitous about her personal ap- pearance, when she-was to meet with one whom she had always regarded with prejudice and the bitterest hostility. Yet, not strange! Oh! woman, after all, claim what you please for your- self; assert what rights you please; estimate your charms at the highest; pride yourself as you may upon your intrinsic worth; sup- pose yourself, if you please, of the purest and most precious porce- lain clay that ever afforded materials for celestial manufacture;- then, put what rough estimate you may on man--suppose him all that is rude, and wild, and rough, and totigh,-all dough and mortality if you think proper,-a mere savage in beaver and breeches,-a mere beast of burden, with only half the usual al- lowance of legs and ears-still, my dear creature, all your pains- taking are for him, even when he is of the rudest, and you the softest-all these careful caparisonings before the mirror,--all this assiduous training of the tresses--all this nice adjustment of the features,--the very disposition of that scarf' and tippet, the careful twofold concealment and display of that white neck and bosom, that adroit placing of the jewel just where it is best calculated to inform him how much more precious is the jewel that hides be- neath,-that confining zone,-that flowing drapery,-that bracelet spanning the snowy arm,--all, all,-the grace, the taste, the toil, the care, the smile, the motion,-all, all are designed to win his smile, to charm his fancy, provoke his admiration, compel his love. Talk of yourrights! Confess the truth for once, now, at this holi- day season, and admit that the most precious of your rights, even in your own estimation, is that of winning his affection, wild colt, fierce tiger, beast of prey and burden as he is! THE PROGRESS OF DOMESTIO REVOLUTION. 101 Dear, good, antique, frigid, stately, stiff, and bigoted Madame Girardin, was not superior to her sex; and this, by the way, my dear, is the one most precious jewel of her humanity. She was a good half hour in fixing, even after Paula Bonneau had descended to the parlour. ,The latter has gone down to meet the Major after the fashion of Nora Creina * "Oh! my Nora's gown. for me, That floats as wild as mountain breezes, Leaving every beauty free, To sink or swell as Heaven pleases. Yes, my Nora Creina, dear, My simple, graceful Nora Creina; Nature's dress, Is loveliness, l The dress you wear, my Nora Creina." Never sticking a pin in her dress, never adjusting tippet or ribbon, the artless child bounded down to the meeting with Ned's father with a joyous, cheerful sentiment of delight and expectation. She knew that he would come,-that he was bound to come to make his acknowledgments,--but, somehow, there was a vague, undefin- able feeling in her little heart, that his coming augured something more grateful,-something more positive than, a mere formality. She fancied that the snows of winter were about to thaw, and, like a glad bird, she bounded forth with song to welcome in the first sunshine and the infant promise of the spring. And the old Major, bigoted and prejudiced, and feeling, as he did, that she stood in the way of one of his most cherished schemes in behalf of his son, he could not resist the child-like corifidence, the unaf- fected and pure. innocence of soul and spirit which displayed itself to his eye on her approach-so frank, so free, so joyous, the union of child and angel, so sweetly mingled in look and manner! She came towards him with extended hands, but he caught her in his arms, 'and kissed her, I fancy quite as affectionately as he would page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] I0 i TE GOLDEN CHBTSTMAS. have done Beatrice Mazyck; then he put her from him at arm's length, -and-looked kindly into her large, bright, dewy eyes. "Oh! :Im so glad to see you, and to see you well again, Major." 'My-dear child, I owe it, perhaps, to you and to your good grandmother, that I am well again-or nearly so." Paula did not disclaim the service, as many foolish people would do. She 'acted more wisely-said not a word about it; but look- ing at the scar, cried out, with child-like freedom:- - "But you have got a mark for life, Major. ' That was a terrible cut." . ("Ah! my dear, but not half so severe as that which you would, have made upon my heart, were'I thirty years younger. As it is, I don't know how much love I do not owe you, old asI am." And he took her again into his arms, and seated her upon his knees, and began:to think that, afterall, it was really not so strange that Ned Bulmer should take a hfancy o the little damsel, though she was of that pernicious French stock. And the old man and the young girl prattled together like two children that have chased butterflies together, until the moment when that gem from: thean- tique, Madame Girardin, strode into the appartment, loo0ting very much like a crane on a visit of special ceremonial feeding, at the ourt of the Frogs. I Mrs. Girardin," quoth the Major, rising and making his famous ogw, though at the cost of a few severe twitches of the bak k and arm s,-"I come, my dear Madam, to return you my best thanks for your kindness and singular attention to myself and son, at a moment of very great- pain and imminent danger to both. -You 'acted the part, my dear Madam, of the good Samarit an,: and :when T think of'the coldness of the nigh your exposre' on the damp earth, your fatigue, at an hour when repose was absolutely ecessary,--the judicious efforts you employed, and theprompt intelligence which made you provide for immediate-help,-I feel utterly at a los1 for words-to say how deeply I am penetrated :by - your kindness and benevolent consideration. I trust, my dear Mrs. Girardin, that you will receive my 'assurances in the spirit in which they are tendered, and that, hereafter, we- shall become more to each other than mere passing acquaintances of the same parishyj . ' The Major hai evidently meditated this speech with a great deal of care. It betraed oitation and t was its fault. His object was to expressis feelings distinctly, and to declare his con- viction of the friendly and useful assistance of the lady; yet 1with- out falling: into formality. But, that he meditated at all, what he i had to say, necessarily led'him into formality. This is always the ' error with impulsive men, who forget that when impulse has be- come habitual, it has also become equally polished, proper and ex- pressive. I am speakingnow of educated people, of course.- A' man so impulsive as Major Bulmer, it is to be expected, must oc- casionally err in speech; but a man who is so fee and ffrequnt a speaker, is never apt to err very greatly, if he will leave himself alone, and wait for the promptings of the occasion. Had he,' by accident, encountered Mrs. Girardin the morning after the accident, he would have thanked her in a single sentence and:a look; and his gratitude would have seemed more decidedly warm from the heart, than it now declared itself. But I am-notso sure, remembering the sort of frigid person with whom he had to deal, that his present mode of address was not the most appropriate. It;sounded dignified,-it appealed to her dignity ; Hemade it lan affair of state, and her state was: ac cordingly lifted by it. It showed-him deliberate in hisapproachs, -even whenPis object was togive th anandthisdisplaed his high sense of theservice, and of theiportance of the tperson ad- dressed. All of which was rathier grateful than otherwise to' a person who still longed -for e returunof hoops andihg;Rhead dressesi She answered him in similar fashion ,-She had; done herduty only,- We must give help :thone another in i:h r of v i e, 4elp ,D' page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] IU0' ' THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. distress and affliction. Major Bulner's rank in society justified her departure from some of its strictfesses, in the effort to assist himn, She was conscious of the impropriety, ordinarily, of stooping beside a gentleman, particularly on the high road; but .she begged hinm to believe that, before she did so, she ascertained that he was actually insensible. ' She herself saw the blood streaming from his brows. She heard'his groans. Otherwise, he was quite speech- less. b Under the circumstances, she had a Christian charity to ful- fi. She thanked'Godshe-'was a Chnistian,-true, a most unwor- thy one,-but she prayed nightly forl Heavenly Grace to make her better.. She, was happy-to believe that her prayers had been somewhat heard; assuming the very casualty of which the Major had. been so nearly the victim, to be designed -as affording her a special opportunity of serving one whom she had not been, taught to recognize as a friend"' "Cool indeed," thought the Major. "Certainly very cool. I am to be upset by Providence, my own and son's neck perilled, only to-afford her an opportunity to. play the good Samaritan. Very cool, indeed!' thought the Major, though he suppressed the very natural comment. The self-complacency of the old lady now be- gan to please him as a sort of study of character. But he-spoke again. She had referred to his bloody appearance, to his groans unconsciously uttered. It was in something of the spirit of a cer: tain Frenchman, of famous memory, that he said,-- - Really,Mrs. Girardin, when I was in that condition, I must greatly have disquieted you by my groans and shocking appear- ance. I am afraidI made some horrible wry faces. Believe-me, my dear Madame, it was purely unintentional. Had I been con- scionus of your presence, I certainly would have conatrained myself. I trust,you,did not consorue my wry faces into anyfeeling- of dis- approbation at your presence, orthe kindly succour you were giing Ine." - -- - No, sir; I thank God, who kept me from putting any such Un , ^ THE .PROGREss O DOMESTIC. REVOLUTION. 05 charitable construction on your conduct. - Suffering as you did, in such a situation,-or had it been- any body else,--Iashould have begged you to pay no attention to my presence, but to be :as tucli at ease as possible!" . . ;- - At ease!' thought the Major. "What an idea!-what a strange woman." His spoken -words were of another sort;.- . "uI thank you, Mrs. Girardin,;-from the bottom of my- heart I thank you,-for myself and son. He, too, sends his thanks, though too great a sufferer to offer them in person. He will present him- self as soon as he is able. To you, and this sweet: -angel of a daughter, we -owe more than we can ever acknowledge." To this, the good lady had a set speech; deprecating allacknow- ledgments. The delight of doing good was sufficient for her. To this the Major had his response; to Which the lady-had hersq; the former replied again;- and:- Madam Agnes-Theresa answered him. By and by, the Major began to speak more at his ease,and, after a little while, making a prodigious leap :rom one point to another, he exclaimed abruptly :- "The fact is, my dear Mrs. Girardin, Ye have been all our lives a couple of, old fools--" "Sir!" : "I beg pardon,--a thousand pardons. I meant to say: that I have been a couple of old fools-not merely one fool-that would not answer to express my sense of my stupidity for so many/years of my life. U No, Madam, I have been a pair of fools; forliving beside you in the parish so long, knowing your worth,:and-tihe honourable family to which you -belng, yet never once seekingito show my estimation of it. - It is thus, my dear Mrs. irardiin, hat one will hunt for:years after a triasure which is- aCtalllying n the while in- his path-that tone :will sigh' and yearn after posse siohs for which he has only to :open-liis eyes and stretch fo his hands,-and that we hourly lament the gowing weakness,. wk' edness, arid ignorance bf the world around uW, without being at , . , page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 THE GOtLDEN CHRISTMAS. the proper pains to welcome and value the good, the great, the wise and the virtuous,. even when we find them. I have been a fool of this description of forty horse power. , By God's blessing, my dear Mrs. Girardin, and, with your favour, I willshow that I am recovering my senses. Permit me, then, to acknowledge my past stupidity in not knowing you better, and do not punish the offence, for which I feel a becoming remorse, by denying me per- mission to make proper amends in the futureifor the past." Madame Agnes-Theresa was proud, and vain, and haughty, and clannish, and full of ridiculous notions of what was due especially to herself and family,-but she was not wilful or perverse. Pro- perly appealed to, she was accessible, and, if she had no question of the sincerity of the offender, she was forgiving. Besides, as we have before hinted, her hostility to the Bulmer household arose from pique and a mortifiedspirit. She did not hold herself aloof froim them, or toss her head haughtily -.when she heard them men- tioned, because she, felt her superiority over them, but simply because they seemed tacitly to assert theirs over her. Vain people are easily mollified. The very attempt to mollify them, soothes the self-esteem which you have outraged. Major Bulmer wa a great beguiler of the sex. In his outh, a splendid figure, with a hand- some. face, he was irresistible. Even now, his figure was noble and erect, his eye open, manly, nd of a glad, generos blue; and his whole aii: was that of the bbrn gentleman. Madame Girardin did not prove incorrigible. The signs of yielding were soon - mani- , fest, and .when, pointing -to an ancient portrait of a Knight in armour, hanging against the walls, the Major 'afforded her an op- portunity of tracing the Girardin famil to the fountain head which they were content to claim, he made aformidable advance into the chi;mpagne country of her affections.: He put her on the right strain, and:she told the story which he had heard from other sources a hundred times before, of that?inmous warrior, the Lord Paul St. Marc Girardin, who accompanied Saint Louis to the Holy ttE PROGOESS Ot- IOMEStlb RiVOLTTIO'i. ito Land, and helped to bury him there. Then the old lady showed him the antique seal ring of the family, thee crest being a cros-s, hlndled. sword, the blade dividing a crescent at an awful swoop; then followed the narrativeo of the Lord Paul St. Marc's feats -of arms, his prowess, the number of ladies he saved, hearfs he won, Turks he slew. The Bonneaus, the old lady gaspleased to admiiit, had never been quite so distinguished as the Girardins, but they, too, had -done no small mischief upon Turks' heads and ladies' hearts. To slaughter foes, and jilt damsels, by the way, -was, among the fine people fifty years ago, the two preferred processes for being honourably famous; and, with all her religion and bigotry, the good grandmother held rather tenaciously to the old faith in these performances. ' And so the two talked away, and about the strangest things,- strangely communicative, for the first time in their lives, to one another, until, by the time the hour was ended,-you will scarce believe it, dutiful reader of mine, but it is a solemn and truthful chronicle which I indite,-but,-certainly I shall surprie -you. Prepare yourself. What think you then? The old lady herself, Madame Agnes-Theresa, taking Major Bulmer by the larm, actu- ally conducted him out to look at a n'ew smoke-house she had been' building, and to show her new plans for curing hogs; thenledl im away, in the same style, to look at some new fowls of foreign :va rleties, roosters big as giraffes, and pullets that might have paiffe Polyphemus, which her factor had bought for her at the great Fowl Fair in-Charleston. Fair is foul and- foul is fair!'says Shakspeare, so that nobody need be-offended at my present-collo: cation of words. The Fowl Fair in Charleston had eontributead largely to our grandmother's hen coop, and afforded materiaiupn which the old lady and her guest could expatiate with equalelo- quence. Little Paula thought there would be no end fit ,:but the sly little puss; seeing that things were going gh ve into terposed an unnecessary word;--and her.-forbearanhe dispya page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] W. TlS t- GOLDEN CHRISTMAS eminent wisdom. Half the world are fools in this vety particulat. hey putin ainoar,just when the boat is making the best head- Way, with tide, wind aid curent in favour, They stop the:cuir rents, they head the- winds, and, in the effort to help progress, -the enterprise forever. K:!eep your tongues, fols; hold off y0urhands, donkies, and let "Go ahead." and I' Do well," work their ownpassages without clapping unnecessary steam to their tails, "'WSell,"'quoththe old lady to Paula, after the-Major had de- piated;,-'well;, my child, who would have thought it I Who eyer,expected 'to see Major-Bulmer in my-house; . Who ever list, ened 'to-hear rme. welcome him! iThere's gome great change at hand, my ichild, when such things happen," , u'"'The-great change has happened, mamma. '"es; ;but it always betokens other changes yet. The Major has ,had'a narrow escape. But heis old, and .he may have 'sufa fered'some secret injury, of which he never dreams, ,When peo, pie thus suddenly change in their, dispositions, look for a singular chage iin their: fortunes." Well, .od be thanked for making. him sensible, in'hisold age, and before it became too late, of what' he oed to:society and 'his neighbours. It is late, but not too late, afid AIpraTthait no evil consequences may follow the present change . -fori..the. better in his disposi'tion," , ' How- can it mamnma y" -." Oh! I don't:know; but change is an awful thing-always, even when it happens:for the better, and there is always. some evil fol- lowig1 in the footsteps of what is good. We'must only hope and pray, aid leayveit all to heaven"- WHCT AUGURS ANt AI ?AI1K UF JSUALn'. Owa CHAPTER XIV. tlm ' , , v WHCH AUGURB AN AFFAIR OF BOARS! IT is the tendency of all revolutions, when they once fairly begin, to precipitate themselves with fearful rapidity, The impetus once given, and the car rolls onward, with a growing head of steam. The development is as eager as light in its progress, from the mo- ment when the germinating principles begin to-be active. It will be admitted that the transitive steps were soon overcome, in the overthrow of the ancient prejudices between the Bulmer and Bon-- neau families. Major Bulmer was a mar of locomotive tempera- ment, who could not well arrest himself in his own movement, having once begun it. Scarcely had he returned home, and re- ported what he had done, when he hurried to the library, :i order to prepare billets of invitation for Madam Agnes-Theresa, and the fair Paula, to his proposed Golden Festival at Christmas.' These performances were not so easy. Every precaution had to be taken by which to avoid offending the amour propre of the old lady and re-awakeninger' ancient prejudices. Twenty notes were begun, and were dismissed, because of some unlucky wordor phrase. I was finally called in to the consultation, and required to prepare an epistle, possessing all the accuracy of a law paper, with all the blandness of a billet doux. Some hours were spent in devices, and doubts, and arguments, and objections, and quiddi- ties, and quoddities, in order that we might not chafe rabidities and - oddities. The work was done at length, but -thereas still a shaking of the head, on the part of the Major and Miss Bllmer, as to certain words, and dots, and consonants;, and/it was finally decreed that Ned should decide as to which, of half a dozen epistles, should be sent. The great, final consultation was held in his chamber,-and he decided,-and we may suppose with judgment, 10 , page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O TEE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS, concerning the result.' The billets were sent, for the old lady and I her grand-daughter; and before an answer could be received, Miss he Bulmer,-a most benevolent and gentle soul as. ever lived,-took ch, the carriage and drove over to Madame Girardin,in order, if need abc be, to smooth over difficulties and 'overcome objections; at all sho events, to add her eloquence to that of her brother, to persuade o the parties to acceptance. But, before her arrival, the discussion had taken place between the old lady and the grand-daughter. "- Well, Paula," quoth she, "wonders will never cease. What Q do you think Here is an invitation to me,-to me,-to spend Christmas day and night at Bulmer Barony. And here is a note to yourself, I suppose, to the same effect." \ And the old lady read her billet aloud, and then required the stil young one to re-readcltand to read her own. ont "And now what do you say, my child. Don't youthink it very abo surprising" a "I don't see any thing to surprise us, mamma. I confess it's I only what I expected, after the Major's visit yesterday." "Well! these sudden changes are very awful. No one can tell r what is to happen. I declare they make me quite nervous. Major h Bulmer has never been on friendly terms with our family, but I e' think him a very worthy man, and I should be very sorry if any , ng evil wa to occur. I knew once of a person who was a great sinner, a very wicked man, who swore like a trooper, and drank like a dragoon horse; who was always quarrellng with somebody, and fighting and lawing with his neighbours; who all at once be- i came converted from his evil ways, renounced his bad habits, , joined himself to the church, became really pious, and suddenly died of apoplexy only a month after he had becom. religious." th "That wa surely better than if he had died before becoming yo so. I don't think the ohange for the better, in his character, pro- ho duced the change in his. body for the worse; r that the danger to fa hfe was the consequence of the improvement in his morals. m # WHCH AUURS' AN AFFAIR OF BOARS, 1" nay be that certain changes in his physical condition, ofvhieh I was better conscious than anybody else, brought, aout the ' nge of heart within him; and, fortunately for him, brought it1 ut soon enough for his spiritual safety. I don't see why you uld infer 'anything unfavourable to Major Bulmer's health, in sequence of the improved feeling which he shows towards us." I don't know, my child; there's no telling. It's all a myste- but I have my fears. I'm dubious that he is not altogether ound of body after that accident." Why, mother, he walks as erect as ever." - Oh! that's owing to his pride. These Bulmers were always My poor brother used to say that if they were dying, they'd carry their heads up, and would draw on their boots and put Lheir spurs as-for a journey. But, what's to be done, my child, at these invitations?" Oh! we must accept them, mamma, as a matter of course." Idon't see that,- Paula." Surely, mamma, if Major Bulmer makes the first advances to nciliation, you are not going to show a less Christian spirit than There is something in that, my dear, but-" Let the but alone, mamma. It properly belongs to the Bull ily.7- - - 'he old lady laughed. So it does, my child, so it does; that is very well said;- Again, mamma! Now let me give you a sufficient reason for ptance. You would not have; me go alone; and I mustibe e, you know, as the whole neighbourhood will be present, and . would not have it appear that I was slighted,"or- that I had Wn myself too little of a Christian to accept the overtures of a1 ily between 'which and ours so long a feud has existed. You t accept the invitation, and go for my sake. ; . : , '! i - page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "Well, my dear, for your sake!" replied the indulgent dame, res] concealing, under the expression of her desire to gratify the dam- the sel's wishes, some hankering tastes and curiosity of her own. The sig] great object had thus been, safely and easily attained when Miss cuj Bulmer made her appearance, and by some ill-judged, though pos / A very benevolent attempts to argue Madame Agnes-Theresa into the consent already won, had nearly driven the vessel out to sea folk again; like certain politicians of our acquaintance, who mar see, the pleasant progress of their own objects, by the too great passion pose for listeing to their own eloquence. Many a good measure has too, been defated in legislative assemblies, by a pert speech and an amiable pistle: both possessing more wind than wisdom. Our alw. \ lady poitician was of this unlucky brood, and, but for certain looks, to nods, wihks, and other sly proceedings-to say nothing of an ab- . j solute nudge or two-administered by pretty Paula, the ragout of able compliance, to use an oriental form of speech, would have certain- don, ly been spoiled in the cooking. But Miss Bulmer was fortunately E silenced at the most dangerous crisis of the affair, and was persua- ded to listen quite long enough to learn that grand-mamma had already consented, in regard to the especial wishes of the damsel, to attend the Golden Christmas at Bulmer Barony-the impor- We tance of the event seeming to justify the concession-it being the led i hundredth year since Christmas was celebrated in the same fami- ties- ly and household. You may see on the gables of the house, in cour huge iron figures 1-7-5-! It was the Golden Year in the his- ers tory of the ancient fabric-ancient for the civilization of our coun- the try-which promises to attain the decrepitude of age, without reali- poin zing any of the famous dust and dignity of the antique. Though the 1 not exactly a favourite with Madame Girardin, our excellent maid- let s en sister was not by any means the object of such dislike as had jor a hitherto been felt for her brother by the former; and the first bui- ceed siness over, that of the invitation, the parties had a long domestic day, and parish chat together, which brought them still nearer in social had ( WHCH AUGTMS AN AFFAM OF BOAOi. 11$ pects. Of course, the two more ancient ladies looked together at i pigs and poultry, and-a matter of equal unctuousness in the it of both-the best way of dressing and curing sausages, oo- ied an interesting half-hour to itself. You will at length sup- e the interview over, and the maiden sister departed. Well, really," quoth Madame Girardin, "it shows that the good s of the 'Barony' are coming to their senses at last. I do not my child, after the solicitude they have shown, how I could . 5ibly escape this visit; and then, my dear, it's on your account ; you must remember.'" Certainly, mamnma," returned the artful little puss, " you have iys been good to me! You know, mamma, you have to yiel ' ay wishes." . Lnd she wrapt her fairy-like arms about the neck of the vener- Hecate, and kissed her as fondly as you or I would have the most rose-lipped virgin in the world. ut kissing is not now our cue- "This is no world To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips." have other and very different games on hand. I am signal- br the Wallet and the Strawherry Clubs-both hunting Socie- -and both occurring the same week." Everybody knows, of se, that the clubs of the gentry exist in all our parishes, the hunt- ssembling weekly or semi-monthly, hunting the better partof day, dining together at the Club House, or at some cenitral in the neighbourhood. The wallet club, by its name, shows process for providing the dinner. Each huntercarries his wal--A ored with creature comforts and a doomed bottle. The Ma- : nd myself were parties to both hunts, but neither of us sue- 1d, on these occasions, in getting a shot. We spent a merry however, with ,the good fellows of the parish. But we another spoit in reserve, of rather different character, to -; 10 *- -t ir page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 r TH G0OLDEN CHRISTMAS. whieh a large party was invited;: the -affair to come off two days before Christmas. 'You are aware that, in the larger swamp and forest ranges of our low country, where population is sparse, the hog runs absolutely wild. He is hunted up as the season approaches when it is necessary to fatten him for the sham- bles. Sometimes hogs will escape all notice for years. Turned into the range after being marked, they flourish, or famish, onthe mast, just as the seasons decree. Sometimes they will show themselves sluggishy: fat, lying on sunny days of the winter in heaps of half-rotted pine straw, enjoying themselves in the fashion of Diogenes--asking nothing from man or fate but the small amount of sunshine which reaches their repose through the tops of two or three grouped pines or gums. The acorns are plenty. They have fed fat that season, and are gruntingly good natured, and growlingly sedate. You may walk over them and into them, without irritating their self-esteem; almost without disturbing their slumbers. But the case is, otherwise in seasons when the mast fails. Then they are gaunt and wolfish. Then they growl sav- agely, and you must not tread wantonly upon their sensibilities. They drowse no longer in the sunshine than they can help. - The goad of necessity is ever attheir flanks. They hear perpetually in their ears the voice of a beastly fate which cries, "Root pig or die!" and as they hear, each lank and angular porker thrusts - his long snout into the earth, and stirs the fields, from which the planter has reaped, more thoroughly than the plough-share. The potato fields, the ground-nut patch, are thus burrowed into, and the mea- gre supplies, thus gleaned after the progress of the farmer- suf- ficefor a- while, not to 0atten the animal, but to keep 'him alive.- 'Eyoen these fail, in season, and the farmer then, through; rare be- nevolence, sends forth his grazier, who, with a daily sack of corn, apportions to each, a small allowance, upon which he consents to live a little longer. In this condition, the neglected hogs, grown larger, and given to wandering through extensive,and almost im- WHCHE AvUGURtSi J Zn A zJPzJM v- JV^w - penetrable recesses of swamp and thicket, become very wild and savage. They turn readily upon the dogs, and it requires a very vigorous cur, indeed, and a' very bold one, to take them by the throat. They will sometimes give fierce, battle to the hunter even; on horseback, and have been known to inflict serious if- not fatal wounds upon the horse; while the rider, himself, must-. be wary enough in the encounter if he would escape from hurt. The long white tusks of an angry boar, which has never been honour- ed by the annual tribute of the-barn, ormollified by thepickings of the farm-yard, are no trifling implements of battle, rashing short and sudden, against the thighs or ribs of the heedless hunt- erw. .. It was with no small pleasure that Major Bulmer was advised a week or so before Christmas, by his,overseer, that he had foeund out the hiding place, in a neighbouring swamp, of a gang of "wild hogs" having his brand, Two of them were described as ' boars 'ofthe largest size and fiercest character. The Major instantly conceived the idea of a boar-hunt. It was his pride to emulate as much as possible, the character of the ancient English, iand-. practice those sports,.the neglect of which, he insisted, were-the first signs of the degeneracy of the age. The introduction rep cently, into the parish, of the jousts and titings of-the:knih of the middle ages--as hath been well recorded-by:the antiqu- rian chronicler of the Charleston Courier,-served,perhaps,7to suggest the present enterprise particularly to his mind. Aad the fact tt t the-Boar's Head c6nstituted, in old times, the preeminent dish at every feudal English table on Christmas day,madeaim resolve that this grim trophy should also -adom his wn, onithe approaching anniversary. To some six or eight of the yng . knights who had distinguished themselves at. the last u0 ameti proper notice was given and, an t the time appointed, we ha:th pleasure of seeing them assemble .each armed ith a ar ear oandcoteau de chasse. There were the:fnights of St. Jo: page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] lie THBE GOLDEN CHRISTMAAS. of Santee; Knights of the Rose and of the Dragon'; Knights of the Bleeding Heart, and- of the Swan; and others, whom I need not name. I confess to figuring as the Knight of Keawah,-the old a Indian name of Ashey River,-while a young friend, from the city ' also, came up in season to enact the part of the Knight of Etiwan-- or of Cooper River. It was a proper day which we took for the sport,-dry, -and a mellow sunshine in the heavens and upon the I earth. -We rode under the guidance of the overseer, and un- der the lead of the Knight of the Dragon,-the Major being still a a: little too sore and stiff to head the party, though nothing short of a broken limb could have kept him from 'partaking of the ad- ; venture. We took with us but five dogs, but these were of known d blood and courage. These were Clench, Gripe, Wolf, Bull, and t Belcher. It happened, though we did not know it when we set c out, that we' were followed by another,-.a stranger,--which no- body knew,-.:a gaunt, gray beagle, of yvery long body, and a mo- dest, rather sneaking deportment. He had not waited for enlist-- ment, received no bounty, and, seeking only the honour of the thing,- went as' an obscure volunteer. We never noticed his ap- a pearance until we were in the thick of the fight. The dogs knew very well what we were after. One of them, following the overseer, had tracked the prey before. We had, s however, some trouble and a long ride to find them, as they 'had changed their hiding places repeatedly since the day of their dis- covery The dogs scattered in the search. They had penetrated e a great'mucky. bog,at severa2points, while the hunters skirted it, waiting for' the signal.' An occasional yelp,or bark,would, at times r excite us, but, for a while, we were disappointed. Atlength, one of the dogs gave tongue, shortly and quickly, and with reident anger. inhistone. The hunter is apt toknow his dogs by their voices. The Major said,-- "That's Belcher,--a sue dog,-better to report truly than to 1 fightfiercely. .Let'sputsin", m put, 4 WHttHl AUUURJRWAN AFJAIR, UVF BJUARIS. X. 1 .:: With the words, we spurred forward- in the .direction of the, ounds, making but slow headway through the thick matted copse nd underbrush which covered the entrance. - But we got through t last, and found ourselves in a. wood, where 'the trees were of onsiderable size, standing sufficiently open,--gum, water-oak, and : ,ine,-with occasional patches of gall bushes, and dense masses, tere and there, of cane, bramble and .shrubs, with, thin flats of vater lying between, and leaving little tussocky beds, high anddry, on which we found frequent but abandoned beds of the beasts. we oere in search of. We rode forward now at a trot, Belcher, the log giving tongue more rapidly, and, being now joined by another log, whose bark was less frequent, but very fierce; and one which he Major did not recognize;-a fact which somewhatworried him. loon, we saw the overseer, with two other dogs, approaching from point on our right; and, as we' were joining, the form of the ab:- ent dog,: Gripe, came rushing by us from the'rear, and making for he scene of clamour, which appeared to' rise from a recess 'm the ? rood still beyond us. This we could attain onlyby passing through nother dense kirt of undergrowth, vines, shrubs, canes and-gall lushes. Four dogs we had just marked as they passed, yet :we Lad heard two tongues within the covert. We had no time to i peculate upon the surplus 'tongue'; the clamour was momently - ncreasing. The enemy was" evidently brought to bay.' Poiing ,ur boar spears aloft,'we forced our way through the copse, at the xpense of some scratched faces, torn skirts, and caps lost for, the . ' doment. Breaking into the opening, the whole scene was poppa,- l ent at a glance, and in one of those very. spots where,.our object Being to see and to engage in the melee, we should have chosen it i occur. There was a spectacle indeed. There were three hogs -o ,f immense size, of the breed, called, I think, the' Irish Graiier.' lhey were long bodied animals, with long legs, islyad a ngu- ' - ar:in aspect and outline, and all with ominous tusks, ,There was ;huge sowi very thin, with' some eight orten pigs, Thre were , i 'h ' .' /^'" * - to page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] :118 * THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. besides, two or three good sizedshoats. A single boar, and he, the ) largest, seemed to be in good condition. He was evidently one ,of those fierce, insolent and powerful beasts, who are known to plant their shoulders against a worm fence, and by main force to ' shove itrover. These were all grouped vtogether, the pigs within the circle,- so as to present a front on every hand, when we came in sight. The dogs had surrounded them, but kept at a decent distance, They became more adventurous the moment Owe ap- peared, and dashed gallantly in among the herd. But it -was a word and a blow only; the sharp bark was followed by a sharper ,cry, andwe could see the blood-stains instantly upon the should- ers of one limping beast, and the gash along the ribs of another, who howled himself out of the fight, only to sink down, seemingly fainting in the water. "Bull has got his quietus, I'm afraid," quoth the Major, poising ,his spear, and preparing -for a charge. '-"Stop, Major," quoth the Knight of the Dragon; "let's have fair play. It will not be easy to have a chance, or to work. suc- 'cessfully, while they keep herded in that hollow square. We must try and seperate them. If you will suffer me, I will but prick one or more of. the beasts with my spear, and allow the dogs to break into their ranks. At all events, suffer me to try it." -The Major held up somewhat unwillingly, and-the young Knight drted -forward-gallantly, brought up his steed, which was equally fiery, and shy, with a sharp thrust, into both flanks, of a Spanish owell,- and, risingininhis stirrups, dexterously; passed the broad iron spear along the shoulder and sides of one of the largest boars. The savage beast in a moment snapped at the assailing instrument, but fortunately took hold of the part only where it was sheathed' , withiron. He shook himself free from it a moment after; and as ' I.. 'it was withdrawn instantly, he wheeled about in the :direction of' his assailant,iwho had now- ridden past., This changed :his at- titude4 exposinmghis broad flank to the Majori.-whom nothing now r trHiCU AUGRi S AN AFFAM OP BOARS. 1t could keep fromn the charge. He made it with cfommendable spirit, and drove his spear clean, through the neck of the baoati The wounded beast, with an angry cry, turned suddenly beforethe: shaft could be withdrawn, and the iron head was broken off in the wound. Thesuffering must have been extreme, for he i:'dly dashed at the steed of his assailant, which backed suddenly against a cypress, -reared, pluntged and dashed forwards, almost into thel circle where the other hogs were still collected; and, butthat the Major was a famous horseman, he would have been unseated., The - wounded boar was not, however, permitted to carry theaffair after his own fashion. The Knight of Santee came to the Major's res- aue, and adroitly drove his iron in between the gnashing teeth of the brute, piercing-obliquely through the neck again, and compel* ling another cry, between a grunt and a roar. The blood gushed freely ron the wounds, and the scent of-it had the'usual stimulat- ing effect upon the dogs. The first in was the-gaunt gra, of, whom nobody 'new. anything,-the volunteer in the expedition. He had the boar by the/ nose ina moment. A single toss and twist threw the monster down, and, leaping from 'his horse, the Knight of the Dragon passed his keen owteau de chasse over his weasand. The other parties, hogs, dogs, and knights, were by no means idle during this progress. The opeiations of the Major, by whi&h one of' the grimmest ofhe eboars had been withdrawn from th!e circle, left it penetrable. The dogs dashed ::&once more, The pigs squealed, the sow gave battle fiercely, but was taken by the snout, by the dog Gripe, and turned over inta jiffy; the overseern jumping down and tying her with certain'buckskin thongs, ith? which he had come properly provided. The capture of thepig- continued t, employ him during the, rest of the affair. For thisyi: we had a fair fielda; and, by the way, the noblest tu, .^t Knight of the Dragon, like a: corteous gnftlkmal leaving the sport to tlose whohada taken no ,lnd, ,i t 1ohi : teL He SP s 1\bj, page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] ,1820: ' .?THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. thefrst-boar. Major Bulmer was disarmed, by the breakiig of his::pesae, andlooked:on with rare impatience, while the conflict continued. It was nbthowed, be it remaembered, to use any other weapons than- spear and knife. There had been littie spot, and one' of theI classical,in the affair, but for this restriction. The two nmaining boars confronted us, with their little, round, sharp, nia. lig t yes telling us, aswell as words could do, what we might e xiectfrom their monstrous white tusks, which stuck out three godly inches ormore from either jaw. To seperate these two, to divide our forces against them, and to begin the attack, were all matters of- ery brief arrangement, To the, Knights of St. John) the Bleeding Heart, and myself-were assigned the conquest of the largest of the grim graziers. The second named dashed forward valiantly,and delivered his spear, well addressed, fairly at the throat of the brute; but, turning suddenly, at the moment-tot disposed to wait for the. assault-he made at the horse of the -attacking kmnighi who barely recovered himself in season to w^heel about and escape the glaring tusks that almost caught the coursers sides. Following up is onslaught, I put in, successfully taking the fierce brute just behind the ear an'd. below the junction of the head-and neck. The spear passed in,-a severe thrust,--which was .nly arrested bi the skull. I was fortunate in drawing forth the wea- pon hbeore he couldturn about, and seize upon it, as he strove to do. :At this momdpt, no' aspect -could be more full of rage and fury than that which the boar presented. His back was absolutely curved like a bow; the bristles were raised, erect, and standing out in points li'ke; those of the porcupine; his eyes seemed to flash a gymali nant light like so much white heat, while: the brist- ling brows, longand wiry, stood out straight. The teeth and tusks -were: bare; :aniistanding, regarding us/ with a sideongwathful- nes, there was a mixture of rage and subtlety in thilook of the bartat s:s howed:hifm no' 'me]rcifiil : cstmer could he ever'-make "i :' elft. Tlat: he hadthe'fullest pe uo se to do so, eery. raised and corded muscleof hisbody seemed to declare. ' - : k ' t I't e'was a,'--ointmbfhonoui tQ egis . ^ f .er:,?:"'" ehanseei sollaheld a"n-: d er:d:ii tidi- ' emtheOe : s' To sa - k'.o '-"t '-" ;'w'-e'".' t; :: dkest difde inthe cougthy,- o he-elethe: :.f:se cane rie at, aringwithn a gsracel to fi ,.he ; . . ofdai&-of' the' paieseLd i n t t lomer e Tir* .. '. withl sheaver up,-by hich, I an- , leather peak,-his enormous mass of isable, fwhiae'fi i rately tweirleoilstae, -toby u nd. nffe :. levelling the gspear, olno af he drives tihe srpie* itfmtei^i: .. the courser, to see mlabnce tie dirct s the beast, a s eemi haglynou m tacol her i to ant angient:tNii dBof ,the :erman tfrests . " nsa : -':bmngq U ' th e-0 VL'li: ed: e:i l::!';ii :' . to n ,fury. He dashed headlo ng at t hoe. a wh-curved with aseep handsm : ouof/ his ait a strange capice,: dashed -mon th op side-,p] Jta ofthe Bleeding 1 ears slowlyuapproahi, 1aneu] - never dreamin@g o his enjoying' nother thanc atnthe-tm^ , patethe 6r, orle whed&el ot of heway the %aSw ous -tsk of the7hoars ra"heagaionst the^ ho P- ttE t swif and depX so-that you could lhea r4th ikt*a *electocit^.an^'in^^^ ;1 ;' " , .w s* e T I "I edl ,m . . . * s*ji * . . . 6 -s *A DTI he dax' j-I 'D,' - the, *ayi th^ s,' .,*' Red gh t5 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 1t2 TEitE (0tdtS Ofitf Ri coi0lctgoing on just. then, between the remaining boar and the Knights of :Etiwan, the- Rose,and the Swan. Out of one peril into oanther, athe night bf the Bleeding Heart seemed in danger of. Jiteraly Verifyi nghis claim to the title. Of a certainty, that of the Brokei Heead, seemed absolttely unavoidable. Nor was this the only danger; for, at 'the precise fmoment when he fell into the midst of the striving parties, the s'pears of the tnighta of Eti*aU and the ose, had actually crossed in the throat of the boar, and he was gnashing, and rashing, and dashing, on both sides alter- nately, keeping up a sort of see-saw motion, the crossed spears antaintaiing for him the balance admirably,- and the two knights, during, his phrensied movements, finding it- difficult to withdraw ;heirweapons from his tough side. -You have heard of the little Canadian hunter, who was pitched by his horse among a herd of loping buffaloes, and straddled the great bull, and was horsed iom him to the back of the great cow, then precipitated among mnd over and between and through and above, a forestk of little alves! Such, on a minor scale, was the sort of progress made by ur Knight of the Bleeding Heart-first over'the great boar, then irted off upon the sow-who lay prostrate and tied-then rolling. *om her embrace among the swarm of little piggies, who were rouped. around her, ten iih number, each with 'nose to the round, ad tail curling' in thy air He: was thus tossed about,' ith a most feathery facility, for a moment, settling down finally ka stone, in very close proximity to the sow.' Their groans were i Pingled, that' it was not easy to distinguish between them; id,'coif unding them together for a moment,- 'we almost appre- inded that ;he Knight of the Bleeding Heart would soon be in sisanceMajor: Bulmer,in the meanwhle,^eageiy rushg.'ing to. t the jugidar of the boar, who had succumbed to the Knightf mtee and myself; and t Knights of the 'Daon; andSwn dl,. sthe' samegoodservie for the third boar, with which ie whead :e Kights of the 'Rose and Etiwaanhad been doing ba'tte. We .... / A FLARE"'UP ;BET IEEN MOUTH1SEN AiNU VAUUl'A2. J.(. -. d- picked up the chapion of thef Bleeding Heart, -' ^a with bleeding nostrils. Thiwas hiswoas ned and considerably scratched,!but, 'aigtingjUst upon theb: b oa- back, :tilted next upon the sow's, and, rlling over :fia:l amo ;g the pigsj the shock of hisfall was imasurably boen. I t ht ' have been otherwis, a fatal one; for he wa' s s;lungfr - headlong, ike-'astone. It was surprising, too at he shou h been thus unhorsed, for he ranked as a first rate:rider. Bueu Was taken by surprise, and'the lack of vigianceis usually the w recof , skill. The worst -of his misfotu ne is to come. T hat-he should have suffered so little was the evil feature in his case. Hadeleg,:or - arm, or neck, been broken, the mishap wouldhave risen into trac dignity. As it resulted, it was simply ludierous, and the; Ki -t of the Bleeding Heart was every where laughed at as the Knight of the Bloody Nose! ' ".. -* , ' * - * . **'* .' CHAPTER XY. . :. A FLARE UP BETWEEN MOTHER AND DAUGHTR. ' - :i WE bagged our prey as well as we could. The overseer: had providently'ordered"a cart to follow the party, and o-ra "spo-s -fi it:-the dead hogs being at the bottom, while: the mate ral porker, still unhurt, with' her numerous progeny, grted: I he way home, from-a spaious buthloody co in theentr oher slain associates. I forbear niumerous all details of our'adventure, satisfied to have given al' e mateial facts. Imay mietion here, that, subsequently, one .of the part, who possessec a wondeul facultyf-or caricature, executed a draing to-the lifeand- bri^i - of spin'rit,' of thMe1 serio-uicro exhibition : :of 'h :': : Bleding":a ,at the'oment of hisinexet e de . iheswine,. .Helis:estaadngi the i anoth boar, on. iands thrown forward, as if grping at tht ofthe tai o,- his legs are scattered 'all abroad' over the- asnima e's , :e he ., : , ,' : '. - , . / -, ' . ,. ..' b :.: : s':;:,E page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 , . THE GOLDEN OCHRISTMAS. rest; of the hogs are grouped around in various, attitudes, more or leiss inlueneedby the: advent of the Knight. The little pigs, in particlar,' with .snouts uplifted and tails upcurled, are recoiling 'withevident' awe and apprehension, seeming to ask,' Heavens! what are we t9 look for next?' The picture is preserved with great care at the Builmer Barony, where itmay be seen at any moment,* much"tolthe secret disquiet of the graceful young Knight, who is the hero of the scene. But I must not linger in the narration of such episodes, even thoiugh they constituted the chief exercises and amusements of the Christmas holidays. Day and night, for two weeks, we were on the move,-now to this club house, or that,--this or that dance or dinner party, , sccing,new faces daily with the old ones, and hav- ing no moment unemployed with brisk and pleasant exercises. I must not forget to mention that, in the meanwhile, Ned Bulmer grew better, and, as his sorenesses of body lessened, those of his he'art Iseemed to increased. As soon as he was able to go forth, we went together on a visit to Bonneau Place, where he had the feir city of enjoying a more civil welcome from the grandmother than he had altoether expected, and where I succeeded, bt going out with that excellent old lady to admire her- poultry, i giving him a. chance fora half hour's sweet secret chat with Paula. Of course, nobody cares to listen. to the prattle of young lovers, who are mere children always, the' sympathies and affections leaving them no motive for the exercise of thoughts. Leaving it to the reader's imaginatioin and experience, to supply this portionofl my chapter, let me peep, for a while, into the habi- tation of my:own cgynosure.' -We willsuppose ourselves, therefore, -This was true at the moment of the writing; but, in a note just received from Mr. Cooper, he tells-me ihat the pictte hasAdisappeared, no body knows how, feliOniouslv ut out of its - frame,whiie it hngt innthe passage way; Major Bler beiang inclinedd to think-that the deed- was doane either by the young Knihtg or somie gof the Prkerkfamily^ they be2ing the only parties interested in destroying the proofs of stpch an adventure.-E13DITOR. , 1s '1- at Mazyck Place, on w 6f mo i'g ofthe day when dame; G'din: and laula received their invi to thegrad festtii: t c' off on Christmas, at the Barony. Mrs. Mayck anda Batiha;i.- ceived invitations at the same time, and they, to, requiWtoitj i council upon the matter. The subbjct was one of: greaidou ind deliberation in the one household as in the other.' Most peopie of insular life, living in the country, and only oecasionally in societyy are tenacious and jealous of their social claimn in much6 geater'de gree than people of a city. Seclusion, is a greatnse of self- esteem, and all matters, however minute and uniniporiant; wncti affect the social position or estimates, are weighed with a niety and observance, in rural life, which really provoke0 a ]smileny among persons to whom the-jostle with humanity:is a daily and. constantly recuring thing. -In:the city, the crowd is always :om- pensative for the ill-treatment of the clique.: You care little for that denial or neglect from the one group, which is more than made up to you by the'attentions of another. You fiind refugeinoneset from the exclusiveness of its rival;' and, where the city s a Irge one, there is no class or street, without a sufficiently solacingc/ircle,- in which you may find wit, ntelligence, grace of manner, an:d-vi- tuate,: atq once, to yorur claims andiyourdesires, Accordingly,you mss no consideration, and are comparativelyheede- less of neglect. . People, tacitly- make 6their-communities-on evi: side, and he must be a poi devil, indeed, who may not-readily'find . all the companionship which" siitshis'tastes and neceissiis, But, , the case is far otherwise in the:sparsely settled abodes:or iXte- rior; and this is just in degre-e with the real wealtfnes of the plantersi Large pntations push away permaent socie and make it inconvenient &t procure it regularly; .e n'-;the ,:: pitality of all those regidon which continually iwelcome t heir e from .abroad: Hence, atain, a solt of rivalry amin g ee . ,proprieto* in the state which they'keep and-the', i?:,fi" their guests. ,Butthis aside. Enough:h ere4toindica6te'l t ti-oi page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] influence which helps to make people tenacious of every claim or ga? right, and resentful of the most shadowy appearance of neglect or be slight.: The self-esteem which is continually nursed, while it is the lad parent of a character which delights in noble exhibitions and re- cas volts at meannesses, is yet -apt to be watchful, jealous; suspi- hai cious, and forever on the qui vive to let you understand that it feels abl itself quite as good as its 'neighbour,; that it is quite independent of the social sunshine issuing from your portals ; that it has friends pla enough, and fortune enough, and guests enough, all of its own, tri and no thanks to any body,-et ceera, d'tcetera, et ceter et ane Mrs. Mazyck was a proud and stately lady, of real worth, of ex- stil cellent habits and family, some wealth, and great hospitality. But an she was touched-with this very infirmity of self-esteem, and jeal- der oug self-esteem, in considerable degree. She noted your absences, He the infrequency of your calls, your failure in solicitude, your want el of, reverence when present. She seemed to keep a calendar, in of which all things were regularly set down against your account. mo She would receive no excuses,-she had no faith in apologies,- left took nothing: into. consideration,-made no allowances,-when not these charges were once entered on her books. You had been eac sick perhaps, - Hum,! Yes! so I hear, but he could find health me enough to call on hMrs. G or Mrs; B ." You had been day very much employed in settling the affairs of the estate, had been the to the city, and had really been too busy to make any visits.-' ros "Perhaps! Yet it is something curious that- business could not in keep hii:way from the party at Mrs. 's." True': but that it i was a family reunion, and you went by special invitation. ' Oh! is I don't need to be told of the difference between a lively,party, a dance andt i supper and the dull duty of calling to see a tedi- her ous o:ld woman." So, you must beware, when actually within the pa charmed circle of h'er 1presence, that you linger not too long beside ve anyother:dame, whose state or position isat all comparable to her are own, io, beware also that, when making yourrespects to her, you ant betray not toomuch eagerness, to cross the room to listen to the tak t ' *: r chat of the P's, or G's, or B's, or S's. You will be remem- ed for all these offences against-her amour propre. The haughty .: y will as indifferently detach you from her hooks of favour, and t you out into the stream, as the angler casts off the worm, that, ing suffered the infliction of frequent nibblings,/is no longerq e or willing to wriggle upon the hook. . ". . 3ehold her, as she sits, grave, 'dignified and stern, beside the :fie ce, stately in her purple-cushioned and luxurious rocker, in that a, well-furnished parlour, great mirrors lining the lofty walls rich curtains of blue and white, trimmed with silver, subduing; - - -more the feeble light of the December sun, as it glides, like unnoticed angel, into the apartment. The old lady has evi- itly clad herself that morning in her ancientest social buckram.- r toilet, as usual, has "been elaborately made,:;-and her ,black vet, flowing and abundant, is as smooth as the daily goings'on her household. Her tiring woman has dressed her hair with i re than her wonted nicety; and the few curls which nature has ' to her, or which,-making a certain feminine sacrifice to worldly ions,-she has allotted to herself, are admirably balanced on h side of her high forehead. Her movements are quite' too asured to suffer her to decompose them throughout the whole There they will keep their place till folded out of sight for night, either beneath her night-cap, or in the nice little antique 3-wood cabinet of her boudoir. She belongs to an old school, which state and form are habitual, and where, if any thing fails, nature only, and that art which is its proper shadow-"which aodestly content and happy when suffered to be its handmaid the good lady meditates bolt upright. A work table is-beside ,on which rests a gold-edged, pink-hued billet, the contents fly legible to her eye where it lies. She takes it up, scans it:. r, lays it down, and uplifts her eyebrows. Her lips, you see, - closely compressed. The effect is not apleasant oeon a ique visage, particularly where the lips are thin. She, again es up the billet, but as she hears a voice and: a footstap, s page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] . .... . 7 ...... .. , ' again lays it upon the table, this time with a little hurry -in her, manner. She evidently does not'desire to be seen meditating its cofalentns. Beatrice enters, cal6i, sweet, as if all her passions were subdued to angels.: Beatrice possesses real dignity?-a quality that is free 'from any ostentatious consciousness of its possession. SShe hasno affectations of any kind. No temper could be more serene,-no sunshine more agreeable in its warmth, or less broken bythe in- terposing shadows of Vanity, or arrogance, or pretence, or pre- sumpion. 'But I will let-Beatrice,-my Beatrice,-reveal herself. I Will not undertake to describe her, for I should never know where to begin, or where to'stop. Beatrice quietly approaches her mother,. and takes up the billet. "'Sould this not be answered to-day, mother?" "What is it, 'my child?" was the answer of mamma,profoundly ignorant of the nature of the note. "The invitation of -Major Bulmer for Christmas!" "Oh!-;ah!--and what answer do you propose to send, Bea-r trice?";:- - K t ,r --H a " What answer, oter We accept, of course!' ' I don't see why of coulse." The damsel looked her surprise. The mother proceeded. , I am' not sure that I shall accept." - "Indeed! Why not" ' "You are at liberty to do as you please. You are youring and will like to be among the young people; but, as it is quite asmuch on your account as my own, that I shall. decline going to Major Bulmer,;you, too, perhaps, may see the propriety of following my example." \ "On my account." "Yes, my child, on your'account pathy, and partly on my own." :"Why, mother, this is very strange. , '"You may" think so. Young people are very unobservant, and the young people of the present generation, I must say,'ar quite A FLARE UP- JTWE-N, MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. ,z- too indifferent to the sort of treatment- they receive. - They love. society too much; they are ever ready to take it on any terms. Now, for my part, I have always been taught to receive it as a due, and not as a favouriand to welcome it as a right-rather than a benevolence." - Beatrice had witnessed quite too many instances of this sort of crotchettiness on the-:part of her excellent mamma- not to see,- at once, that her soup had been temporarily under-seasoned.:, She 'had acquired some skill in the business of soothing the inrritated appetite, and supplying the ingredients necessary,--to use a;n orientalism,-for the conserve of -a delicious te'mper. hBut she' was really taken by surprise at this demonstration in the present quarter. She had seen the, Major and her mamma exceedinglyin- timate only a week or two before. Nay, she had- seen sufficient proofs, by which she had been greatly disquieted, of the secret object which the two parties had equally meditated of bringing Ned Bulmer and herself together. What had-brought about the present alteration in the state of affairs? .- What had cooled off the parties?- Beatric was not unwilling, I may say in this place, ' that-there should be an end to the conspiracy against her happi, ness and -that of Ned. But she- had no desire that there' should be a cloud and a wall between the two families. - She was worried accordingly. t Mammas, she .well knew, having single,-ought I not rather to say only,-daughters, are apt to be fussy and fidgetty; just as you see an old hen, whom the hawk has robbed o6f every chicken but one,--maling more clack- and l- tter, and showing more pride and pother, than all the poultry yardbeside;-and the dear girl had long since resolved, that she, at least, wouldaiot contribute in any way to make herself the hicken so nrdiculosly conspicuous. There't was no, more unprestiming, unpretending damsel, for one of her pretensionsi in the world. Nwo,. astheJast- sentence of her mamma was tingling in her ears,sh e fanciedsshe- could catch the clues of her diffculty; but: her guess- aid notiper;: . suade her to spare the excellent old lady any portion of the ce- 4U, p page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] v 180 t IE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. sity of speaking out, in proper terms, the subject of her embar. rassment, "nReally, mamma, you speak in oracles. I can't conceive why you:should, speak of society accorded to you as a benevolence rather than as a due,-and that, too, on the'part of the, Bulmer family l- They seem to me to have always distinguished you with ,the most becoming attentions. r Miss Janet is one of the most do. cile and humble- creatures in the world, and she /has been solicit- ously heedful of us both; the old Major, himself, has been so at- tentive, particularly of late, that, really, mamma, I had begun to entertain some apprehensions that the Fates were about to punish me with a step-father, in order to make me atone for some of my offences." - Beatrice,- Miss Mazyck,"-with a most fi'eezing aspect of re- buke,--the old lady drawing up her knees and laying her hands solemnlyin her lap,-"You knownot what you are saying." "Oh'! yes, mamma,-I know very well. How else could I ac- count for the long -letter you 'received :from the ,M,1ajor last sum- mer, and the long'letter you wrote to him in return, neither of -whichdid you suffer me to see; though you do me the lhonour usually to make me your amanuensis with -all your other corres- pondents." "There were reasons for the exception, Miss Mazyck" "uPrecisely, mamma;. that's what I'm saying,--there was a spe- cial reason:for that exception ----" "4 said reasons -not a special reason, Miss Mazyck." - "Wellmamma,: and I thought it only reasonable t' conclude your-reasons to be resolvable into a special reason. When, afteri our return, the Major wasthe first to call upon you, and when you took him out, uinder ithe pre text of visiting the loom-house, and:the 'smoke-house, and the poultry-yard, and heaven knows whant else;; ad w-hen you were -gone together; almost an hour,- how could I suppose any thing else, than the particular danger to 6m1yself, if not to you, that I have mentioned?" , o A fLARME!?JjiTWtEESr MTf iT EHt ANTi DAUGHTER. 1A "You are disrespectful, Beatrice." "Surely not, mamma." [ You know not what you are saying. You know n6t the busic ness on which Major Btilmer wrote me that lettel and paid md that visit." [ Certainly not, mamma, I only conjectured, and I give you my conjecture, As you never condescended to let me into the secret, I naturally thought that it more particularly concerned yourself." "You are a very foolish child, Beatrice. The letters concerned you, rather than te; The vsit ws paid on your account. Ifl I tent out with Major Bulmer, you were left here with his son." "No, mamma, you mistake,; I was left with Mr Cooper." "Yes, Miss Mazyck, and that reminds me of the first show of disrespect, to our family, on the part of Major Bulmer's. .Mr. Ed- Iward Bulmer treated you with so little consideration, that he left you as soon as our hbacks were turned, and, when found, was stretched off and sleeping in the library.' Was that proper treat- ment of my daughter ." "Really, mamma, I never missed him." The old lady gave her daughter a -severe and suspicious glance, but did not answer the remark. She proceeded thus: ["Whether you missed him or not, does not alter the fact with regard to his conduct on that occasion. 'It was, highly improper, and very' disrespectful. But his disrespect did not endhere. On the night of the party, he did not dance with you once." "In that, if there be' any thing to blame, I am the offender. e applied to me twice or' three times for the privilege of -dancing rith me, andc each time I was engaged." "Yes, but could he not have engaged you for the dance after- wards. '"-: , * . :..- - ( I am not sure but he soughtto, do so. It is certain,:that, thouh Out the evening, I was engaged, most usually, one or mor, dances ahead."' a b -' 'a' w' ' B t ' a "If there had been a will for it, Beatrice, there had been a way." page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 12 GuT11 GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. That is, if both our wills agreed. There, I conceive, the diffi. culty to have lain. I confess, I see nothing in Mr. Bulmer's con. duetsn' that occasion, which could be construed into slight or dis. respect." ' You do not want to see, Beatrice."? ( You are right, mamtma. I am riot anxious, at any time, to pick out and seek for the flaws and infirmities in my neighbour." "That may be a very pious principle of conduct, my daughter, which, in every day matters, Ijannot disapprove of; but there are cases where a proper pride requires the exercise of proper resents ment.- The: conduct of Major Bulmer and his son, has not satisfied mek since the night of the-ball. They have neither of them dark- ened- these doors since." ," W-hy, mother, how could they? You surely could not expect theim, siffeiing, as they did, from such an accident that night; Mr: Edward Bulmner has been laid up with a broken arm, and the old Major was covered -with bruises." . "But he could find hiss limbs and body sound enough to visit Mrs. Girardin." "S-urely, and he was bound to do so; the friendly care, the charitable kindness, the magnanimity of the- old lady, that night, in giving her assistance, so promptly, and with so much real bene- volence anld kindness to the sufferers, called for the earliest and most grateful acknowledgment. As a gentleman, merely, if not as a Christian and human being, Major Bulmer'could do no less than pay. her a visit, of thanks and gratitude, as soon as he was able. . "Yes, and Miss Bulmer could go too. Both could pay their respects in that quarter, and neither in orgs.' "Ah . mamma! so you find cause of complaint in poor Miss !Janet, too, one of the best of human creatures." "Yes, indeed; if they could visit one house, they might well visit another; and there were reasons why they should have been herei, if only to explain." A 3RAUPE IUP, ETWtEEN MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 133 sExplain!" "Yes, explain! You cant, at present, understand; but I inean it when I say explain! There's another'thing, Beatrice. Mrs. Gfirardin and Paula Bonneau have both been invited to the Christ; mas party at Major Bulmer's. I have it from Sally, the cook. Her husband, pen, belonging to Paula, told Sally of the invitation, and of the very day when it was given." - ' "What more natural. The Major and Miss Bulmer could not surely have omitted them." "What! aftel-the long quarrel between the families?": "For that very reason, mother. A quarrel is not to be kept up for ever in a Christian country; and what better occasion for re- conciliation than when one of the parties assists the other in a case of extremity; and what better season than this, when God himself despatches his only Son on a mission of Love, Forgiveness, and final reconciliation between himself and his offending people t Really, mamma, if you were to say to others what you have said to me, people would begin to suspect you of Paganism." "-Better call me a Pagan, at once, Miss Mazyck!" growled mamma, gathering herself up in the attitude of one about to spring. "But, it is not that Mrs. Girardin and her grand-daughter have been invited, that I complain But when I know that the invita- tion was sent to thenm a whole day and night before any was sent to us, that, Miss Mazyck --- " "That, mamma, is one of those offences that cannot but be com- mitted, and which there is no helping. It is done every day. All cannot be served at, the same moment. While one's -soup is. scalding him, another, at the extremity of the table, finds his a little cooler than soup ought to be. Somebody must always belast." "But I am not pleased to be that somebody, Miss Mazyck." "And, in this case, mamma, I am very sure you are not. I would wager something that- if Mrs. Girardin received the first, you had the second invitation." .. 12 *' ^ - .\ A* A. page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 104 / 'fTHE GoW1i94 CIURISTMAS0. - "Perhaps; but that does not altogether satisfy me, considering tho terms on which Major Bulmer and myself stood together." Ah! those terms, mamma," said Beatrice archly and with a smile. The mother did not attend to the remark, but proceeded as if she had. not heard it: "But, I see the whole secret., The fact is, that Mrs. Girardin has a good deal of foresight and a grand-daughter, and Major Bul- mer has a handsome fortune and a son; and charity by the way. side, may bring its benefits into the parlour; and they do say that Miss Paula is not insensible to- the wealth and person of Mr. Ed. ward Btulmer, and so ' "Mother, mother!" cried Beatrice reproachfully; " do niot suffek yourself to speak such things. Mrs. Girardin, I am sure, would have done for the blind beggar, by the highway, all that she- did for Major Bulmer 7 "What I with her pride?" "tHer pride is ridiculous enough, I grant you, butt so far as I have ever seen, it has never been indulged at the expense- of her humanity,. I am sure, at least, that her pride would have been enough to keep her from any calculations in respect to the Bulmer family, its son and--wealth. She is certainly too proud for any scheming to obtain any thing from that or any other family. As for Paula Bonneau, I know no woman who better deserves the best favour of fortune in a husband; but she, is to be -sought, mother, and she will not herself be found onthe search for a lover.. Let me so far correct your opinion as to tell you what the world reports. in respect to Paula Bonneau. It says that Edward Bulmer has long been her devoted, if not her accepted lover, and that she is truly attached to him, in spite of the -hostility of her grandmother, so that, most of your suspicions are wrong, if those of the world be " ht. "It is impossible, Beatrice,--it is impossible!, said the mother, pushing away the stool beneath her feet;-ad singdwith an-air of outragedcignity. "The terms:between Major Bulmer and y- self---"i' - ' *- ' . - ' A FLARE UP BE'IW-isN I MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 135 "Ah! -those terms again, mother. Pray, what is the mysterious nature of this affair between you and Major Bulmer I Really, un- less you tell me plainly the state of the case, I shallhave to fall back upon my old suspicions. My powers of. divination yield me- no other conjectures."' The mother quickened her movements across the room, then wheeling about, confionted the daughter with a somewhat imperi- ous manner, as she said,-- "Well, if- you must know,-and, under present appearances, I see no reason to maintain a useless secrecy,-you must know that Major Bulmer has proposed for you, and that I consented --" "Major Bulmer, for me,--why, mamma, he is old enough for my granafather!" cried the girl in unaffected astonishment. "-Pshaw, Beatrice, you surely know what I mean. He pro- posed far you on behalf of his son," "And you consented" 2 "Yes,--I consented. I thought the match a very eligible one." "But how could you consent, mother, to any thing of the sort? Did you mean that I was to have no voice in the matter ." "No, by no means; but I took it for granted, my daughter; that you would see the thing in its proper light, see the advantages of such a match-and I consented that the -Major should open 'the matter to his son ." "Heavens! mother! what have -you done!" exclaimed Beatrice, the rich red suffusing cheeks and neek, while a singular brightness flashed freely out fronm her dilating eyes. It was her turn to rise and pace the apartment. "What have you done,! 'How have you shamed me!-- So, Edward Bulmer is to be persuaded, under an arrangement with my own mother, to behold in me the proper handmaid .upon whom it is only necessary that he should bestow his :smiles, in order to obtain submission, -I am to be made happy by the bounty of his- love. Oh! r I mother ! hdw could you do' this thing. ' ' "'But, my dear, you see it in a very peculiar andimproperlight H" page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] *138 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "I see it in the only light. It appears by your own showing,- and, indeed, I know the fact,-that Mr. Bulmer has had no part in this beautiful arrangement. Ie must be argued into it; and his father must provide him with the proper spectacles-his or youFs, mother,--looking through which, he is to discover what he never of himself could see, that I am the proper young woman whom he should espouse. You have done wrong, mother,-you have been guilty of a great cruelty. You have shamed me in my own eyes." "' How !-how !" "Who will suppose,-Major Bulmer or his son, think you ?-that you would venture to pledge thb affections of your daughter, to one whose affections have yet to be persuaded." "Oh! no! by no means. I told the Major that you knew noth- ing "Of course! and had I known every thing, it still would have been an amiable maternal error-quite venial and rather pretty, perhaps-to have made exactly the same assurance. The Major believes just as much of it as he pleases,-the son as little ;-and I-and I-I am to appear as the humble virgin, dutiful at the threshold, as another Ruth, entreating to be taken into the house- hold of the wealthy Boaz. Oh I what have.you done, mother! What have you done !" And a passion of tears followed the drawing of the humiliating picture. The mother was astounded, and began to fear that, in her previous consideration of the subject, she had excluded from view some of the proper lights for judging it. She began to falter, and to make assurances. But the daughter had risen in strength and dignity, just in degree as the mother had declined. Her tears had ceased to flow, but her soul was up in arms, and the fires now flowed from the eyes that lately wept. Her form, always lofty and noble, now rose into ,a sort of queenly majesty, that filled theold lady with admiration. "As for Edward Bulmer," said Beatrice, "he is not for me, nor I for him. 'I have long known that he loved& Paula Bonneau; CHRISTMAS EVE. -1 and I have good reason to believe that his love is requited.: But even had he been willing, mother, his fatheir wiling, and you wil- ling, I should not have willed the connexion." "But, Beatrice, my daughter," interposed the mother, now thoroughly alarmed, "you do not tell -me you willmarry against my consent." "No mother; but I mean to tell you that I will never marry until I-have my own consent!" A carriage at this moment rolled into the court below. Thie mother looked through the blinds. "It is Major Bulmer's, and Miss Janet is getting out." "One word then, mother,--we both must accept this invitation, and it must be frankly and unreservedly-unless we wish the whole parish to suspect that, in the union of the houses of Bulmer and Bonneau, Beatrice Mazyck has suffered a mortification,-Beatrice Mazyck has, been rejected by him to whom her mother has offered her in sacrifice." "Oh! my child! How can you say so ?" The dialogue was interrupted by the entrance of the ancient but amiable maiden, whom Beatrice received with an affectionate kiss, and her mother with a laborious smile. It need not scarcely be said, that Beatrice had her own way, and that the invitation was accepted. CHAPTER- XVI. CHRISTMAS EVE. ^ TIME, meanwhile, had been hobbling forward, after the usual fashion, and with his wonted rapidity. He brings us at length 'to Christmas evle. But the old Egyptian don't find us unprepared. He does not catch us napping, though he may at the 'nappy page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 188 THE GOLDoN CHRISTMAS. We have taken himby the forelock. We have been getting steam upon him for a goodly month 0ormore. Major Bulmer has failed in none of his supplies;?and aunt Janet has been doing the crusty, in spite of h er proverbial sweetness of temper,-and because of it-in the 'pantry and bake-house, for a week of eleven, days. What A wilderness of mince-pies have issued from her framing hands; what a forest of, patties and petties, cocoanut and cran- berry ;-what deserts of island and trifle ;, what seas of jelly; what mountains of blanc mange; Eggs have grown miraculously scarce. There is a hubbub now going on between the -fair spinster and her lordly brother. "But, Janet, by Jove, this will never do! You mustn't stint us in Egg-nog Better give up a bushel of your pudding stiff, than that we should have less than several bushels of eggs." "But, brother, there will still be enough. You know the ladies saeldom take egg-nog, now a days." "I know no such thing, and don't believe it. We must provide enough, at all events. :Send out Tom and Jerry; let them scour the countly and pick up all they -can. These women with their parties- P, ', Was' ever sucli a man as brother!" cried: Miss Janet to - me, with bare arms, uplift, and well sprinkled -with flour.; She had been kneading that her public should not need, which is certainly 'patriotism, if not Christian charity. ButI have no time to listen to her, or to speculate upon her virtues. The 'Major summoned me forth to look at the hogs. :Thirty were slaughtered last night. -There they hang, the long-bodied, white porkers, thoroughly clean- ed, llke so many convicts, decently diessed for the first time in their lives, when about to pay the penalty of their offences. "-Not a rogue among them," quoth the Major, , that weighs less than 250 nett."' Yesterday, there'was. a beef shot. We must go and. 'look at him, see -him- quaitered, and estimate his weight: and'im- portance also. Huge tubs-and wooden platters of sausage meat entreat-our attention, and I assist Miss Janet in measuring out ?f#, H,m, ISTMAS EVE. 139 pepper, black and red, and sage and thyme, and salt and saltpetre, that the sausage meat may be as grateful to ithe taste as it is fully great to the eye. The Major and his sister are the busiest people in the world. Ned Bulmer is abroadb and busy alo,.as muck so asihe can be, his arm in a sling. He is anxious about certain oys ters ordered from the city, and is pacified by the response fro/mt$e gentlemanly body servant,-- The oysters have arrive, Mr, E&d ward, in good order. - Boxes are to be unpacked, in which Ihelp, Miss Janet is feverish about the fate of several barrels of- rockery., I assist in relieving her. The Major needs my help inopenng and unfolding certain cases of fire-works, and in preparinge soece for rockets, and reels for wheels, posts, and platforms, &c.[, foyr a display by night.: Our Baron, like other Princes, is fond of, and famous for, his pyrotechny, He has invented a new torpedo, by the way, for blowing up the fleet of the Federal Government, :when,- ever they shall attempt to bombard the city; and one of the pro- blems which now occupies hismind, is the preparation of a balloon for dropping hollow shot into the forts of the harbour. The Major is a fierce secessionist. At one time,he rather inclined to:co-ope-: ration; and I fancy he voted the co-operation ticket for the Souith erm Congress; but, since the resolutions of the Committeesat ;Co- lumbia, he denounces jhem as mere simulacra--using the verna - cular for the learned word,--plainly saying, in brief,bury phrase, Humbugs!"--and has very devoutly sent them all to the :devil; - Friom Cheves and Chesnut, Burt, Barnwell and Orr, To Preston and Pressley, and twenft-five more, - 40 With Petigru thrown in to make up the score! - , , But we must eschew- politics, in a Christas Lege, leste take away some poor devil's appetite for dinner. Ourcue is e ge and gentle,.tender and tolerant/no tstrategeticalld" t ' The fire-works arranged and disposed of, we turned in u a Christmas Tree, which was: to be elevated within the grt:. This was a beautiful cedar, carefully selected, and brougti !th woods,the rootswell fitted into the hal of - a bl page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O THE aOLDENXT CHRISTMAS. rammed with moss, the base being so draped with green cloth as to conceal the rudeness of the fixture. This, planted -and adjusted in its place, we enclosed the piazza, front and rear, with canvaa, and hung the interior in both regions with little glass lamps of different colours. Half of the day, Christmas:eve, was employed in these and a score of other performances. Nothing that we could think of was omitted. Then, there were boxes of toys for the children to be unpacked, and trunks of pretty presents to be examined, and the names written on them of the persons for whom they were'designed. They were, that night, after the guests' had all retired, to be suspended to the branches of the Christmas Tree,i which was, in the meanwhile, to be kept from sight by the drop- ping of a curtain across the hall! Ned Bulmer had his gifts pre- pared,:as well as his father and aunt. I, too, had bought my petty contributions, calculating on the persons I should meet. Before noon, the company began to pour in. Several came to dinner that day. Afternoon brought sundry more, 'who were to spend the night, and perhaps several nights.' The mansion house was entirely surrendered to the ladies and married people ;--the young rmn were entirely dispossessed and driven to sheds and out- houses, in which, fortUnately,' the Barony 7 was. not deficient. Ned and myself lodged with the overseer, and tad a snug apartment to ourselves. At dinner, it was already necessary to spread two tables. Every body was becomingly amiable. Care was kicked under the table, and lay crouching there, silent and trembling, like a beaten hound, not daring to crunch even his own bones aloud. The ladies smiled graciously'to our sentiments, and we had futiny songs and stories when they bad gone. After dinner, some of the guests rode or rambled for an hour,i; others retired tothe library,- chess and backgammon; others to the chambers ;--and the work of preparation still went on. The holly and the cedar, twined to- gether with bunches of the ' Druid' Mistletoe ,wreathed the doors and windows, the fire-place, the pictures.: Red and blue berries glimmered: prettily among the green leaves,. At night, we had CHRISTMAS EVE. 4" the tea- served soe usual for the Major was impatient for the fire-works. The discharge of a cannon was the signal :for crowding to the firont piazza.' There, as far as the eye could ex tend, ranging along the green avenue, at equal distances,; were piles of flaming lightwood,'showing the way- to the dwelling. They failed to show the spectators where the Major was preparing, for his rockets. Suddenly, these shot up amid- the darkness; a flight of a dozen, with the rush of the seraphim, flying, as it were, from the glooms and, sorrows of the earth. Then came wheels, Rotman candles, frogs, serpents, and transparencies--quite a dis- play, and doing great credit to the Major, besides singing-his cheek and hair, and drawing an ounce of blood from his left nostril-- the result of a premature and most indiscreet explosion of a tur- billon, or something of the sort. But this -small annoyance was rather agreeable than otherwise, as tending somewhat to dignify : the exploit. The display over, and the spectators somewhat cooled by stand- ing in the open air, we returned to the rooms and the violin began to infuse its own spirit intd"'the heels of the company. Then fol- lowed the dances; quadrilles, cotillon,.country dances, Virgibty , reels, and regular shake-downs. We'occupied two saloons at this' business till 12 o'clock, when the boys and girls, obeying the signal of Miss Janet, descended to the rooms assigned to offices purely domestic. Huge bowls might here be seen displayed, and: mammoth dishes. A great basket of eggs was lifted in sight, andx upon a table. Knives and forks, sticks and goose feathers, were put in requisition. Eggs were poised aloft and adroitly cut in twain, the yolk falling- into. the bowl, the white, into the dish- seperating-each, as it were, with a becoming sense of what Was expected of it. Then the clatter that followed,-the:rubbing and, the rounding,-the twitching and the clashing! How fair arms : flashed, even to the elbow, and strong arms weaiied, een to the- shoulder blade, to the: merriment and mockery of the dasels.' With some, the -unskilful, it wouldn't come ;-in Western:: pa page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. lance,. 'they couldn'tcome it ';-and the dish had to be transferred to' more scientific hands. At length, the huge tray being uplifted, turned upside down, and the white mass clinging still solidly to the China, it was pronounced the proper moment for reuniting. the parties so -recently seperated.' Thenirose the golden- liquid, a frosteds, sea. of strength and sweetness aiid serenity, that never whispered a syllable of the subtlety that lurked, hidden in the compound, born of the glowing embraces of lordly Jamaica and gallant Cognac. . Lo! now the strong-armed youth, as they bear the glorious beverage on silver salvers to the favourite ladies. They quaff, they sip, they smile, they laugh; the brightness gathers in their eyes; they sparkle; the orbs dance like young stars on a frosty night, as if to warm themselves ;-when suddenly, Miss Janet rises, stands for a moment silent, looks significantly around her, and is understood! A gay buzz follows; and, with smiles and bows, and merry laughter, and pleasant promises, the gay group disappears, leaving the tougher gender to finish; the discus- sion of that bright, potent beverage, in which the innocent egg is made to apologize for a more fiery pirit than ever entered intp the imagination of pullet to conceive! Merry were the clamours that followed ;-gay -songs were sung ;-some of .the youngstes, just from college, took the floor in a stag dance ;--while half a dozen more sallied forth at one o'clock, called up the dogs, mounted their steeds, and dashed through the woods on a fox hunt. : Buatthe fox they hunted that night was one of that sort which Sampson let loose among the Philistines-a burning brand under his bxush- not suffering him to know where he ran! ' X ' ' ' ; A ' 4 -. * C IS'-A 9 W - * , L^ . a At u.' - ;'-.'- ., . CHAPTER XVI I.., CHRISTMAS-HOW GOLDEN. CHRISTMAS DAwN 1 The day opened with bursting of bombs from the laboratory of Major Bulmer. -He was utp and at work- night and early, having summoned me to his assistance. In fact neither of ts had. done much sleeping that night. We had :em ployed more than an hour of the interval, after the termination of the dance, in arranging the gifts amonghe branches of the ce4d nd in other matters. Then wehad {djourned toan out-house, where the Major kept his fire-works, and had gotten the explosive? , pieces in readiness. They did famous execution when discharged, : routing every body out of his sleep, slough it should be as sound: as that of the Famous Seven-I The children were all alive in an instant. "Had old Fatter Chrystmasse really come.' There was a rush to the chimney places in every quarter, whaqre, the night before, the stockings and satchels had been suspended from the cedar branches., Dear aunt. Janet had:taken good care, that the"Old Father should make his appearance; and there was M general shout, as each took down his well-stuffed stocking., Al; - how easy to make children happy-how unexacting thelitle archis '-how moderate; in their desires-how innocent thei expect tations-how pure, if fervent, their little hopes I :Treat them low- nIgl--gi e them gifts such as love may wisely give-anc. you im press the plastic and hospitable nature with, a true moral for the Seventy years of vicissitude that may follow!: Ah!shouttsf I o lessed children I as if there lay a weet bird in the soul, a ll wmi mnd voice, soaring together in seetness, earthi not yet havi ng tained the one, or made discord in-the accents of the:tlher - - T lear little creatures on what sly steps they:stole :tothe: seav ' lambers, lingering at the door, waiting tof 'cat'" ch : " -p :- , - ' X" - t - -A' Darnb n Jiae * - Tn page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4\ tfAB 0OLD0N. OH1STMA.' they issuedforth. How they crouchedat the entrancesof hall and library;!n the porches, behind the doors, beneath the stairs, under the eaves--wherever their little bodies could find snug har- bourage-till they could spring out upon the victim. Three of them, at the samemoment, had aunt Janet about the neck. They pulled off her curls,- they disordered her lace,-they deranged her handkerchief,-almost entirely demolished her toilet,--and pulled "her down upon the carpet, with their wild-colt displays of affec- tion; 2and the dear old maid took it all so sweetly, and smiled through it all, and only begged where she might have scolded, and promised good things to escape, when she might have threatened birch and brimstone! -And the fierce old Baron, the Major him- self, even he, Turk as he is in some respects, he, too, was as meek under the infliction as if he shared fully the spirit of his sis;. tei. The boys and girls, half a dozen in number, seized upon him as he entered the hall from the court. The girls tugged at arms and skirts, the boys had him by the neck, arms End shoulders, at the same moment. "Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas uncle ;"- i'Merry Christmas, grandpa." Merry Christmas saluted him, un- \der all sorts of affectionate titles, from their wild, gay, innocent little I voices. And how graciously the old Sultan submitted tobetugged at land hugged. How he laughed and tossed them up, and suffered them (to sway him to and fio, until they all came down upon the carpet in a heap together! ; There was no growling, or grunting, or comrn plaining:; .no rebukes and wry faces; -but, giving himself up to the humourt of the children, he became -ifor the moment a child him- i self. And measurably he was. -He had. kept his heart young, and could thus still identify himself with the child huopurs of the little throng ,about him. He knew what he had to expect, and had repared for them. HBis poekets were a sort of fairy wallet, such :iwe] read of in' the Oriental and German' fables, which is always giing: forth, yet always fa ll. s, knives, thimbles,.dolls in boxes, prettybbooks with gold edges and gay pictures, very soon Prti" b Ag w ge ttnfO1dedtiemseles from his several pockets, and eaeh : apF- hildren took what he pleased. They went off iaden t1tht9e:. '- sures, id makingsthe house ring with cries of ,extltton. : - :At unrise that morning,: the eg-nogn : pass&ed r / to chamber., : Why eggs at Ohritmas a well as ]ater: Ter- Is a siagniance in their use,at these periods;,which we lave:toh theelogical antiquarian. They are doubtless typical. E tIah: in the Btlmer -Barony;, the old custom was ;reigiously kept : Every guest was requiredt taste, at aU events. rheladieshossfly:, the dear, deliate young thtngs in particular, were hea ehn with- a wine-glass. Some of the matronstcould relishsfa: af:ieOr- . - tumbler, and there were some of these who would boaioniayll theirway into the contents of a second, and-without gettingiL' - their cups! We areto graduate the beverage, be it-rememb6ered according to the capacity of the individual; and, he alone is the intemperate-we omay add the fool also--whota kes apower into the citadel which he cannot keep inM due subjection The bdll rings for breakfast The hour is -late. All are assem* bled. There is joy, in all eyes; merriment in all voices; what a singular conventionalism,established by habits so prolonged,for so many hundred years, by which, - whatever the secret-ere, it is overmastered on this occasio, arid the sutfferer asserts his freedom for a brief day in- the progress of the oppressive time I Breakft at the ,'Barony', is, of ourse, abreakast for a Prince. Tke thst for granted; gentle reader, and spare us the necessity to desibe. Thieevent over, we group together and disperse. The horsesare saddled below The young gallant hifts sfair one to thesaddle, The carriages are .ready; :and 'there are parties preparing for a drive:.- Some of the young men have: gone to.. the oo, pBisl and rifle shooting. Others are in the library, companionedi bW y other sex, atWeissds banckgammon. We are ;amodgs : Bulmer tmd myself.: 'W?,T have odu]es a:t ome. *t:e 'l:nt: what moment: ibng: thedoor orespecve :i *, * , , , page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] TAO G'(9X 01.....RIS ;0 vanously engaged and eimployed, all more or less gratefully, thehours paass nntil meidilan: A little after, the rolling;.f wheels is heard below. We are at once at the entrance. Major .Bulmer is;already there. The carriage brings Mrs. Mazyck and her fair daughter. 1'he old lady is not exactly thawed, but the ice is of a thin crust only. The Major tenders her his arm; mine is at tihe ser Btce of BeatriCe. Sarcely have we ascended when other vehi- efs are heard below. It is nowNed's trn, and while the Major is bwig and supporting Madamer Agnes-Theresa; Ned brings in the dear little witch, Paula, hanging on his s'Ound limb, and turn- ing an inquiring and tender glance of interest upon that which pleads for pity from the sling. The Major and his sister divide themselves between the matrons; while Ned and myself share the damsel between us.. We slip out, unobserved, for a walk, leaving the ancint quartette in full chase of parish antiquities, recalling d tifames and 'making the passing as pleasant, by reflection as pos- sible. Shall Itell youhow we strayed, whither we went, what we said together .f Not -a word of it. If you ha-v:heart, you may conceivefor yourself; if fancy only, you may trust to conjec- ture. What is saidby young persons, with hearts in full agree- . ment, will eldom bear reporting. It is so singularly thefaculty of the heart, under such': circumstances, to :-ndow the' simplest matters with a rare sigmficance, that ordinary reason becomes ut- terly unnecessary, and the' affections find a speech and a philbso- phy of far more value, more grateful to the ear, and more profound to :th6sne, than any that belong to simp le intelct. We were gone fully two hours froin the house, yet, so well had the Major and: aunt Jaiet dofne:their parts, we- had: not, been- missed bIy mafmma and greandmammia, and neither frowns nor reproaches w:atl -,our return. It was'eviaently fast p ,'oving itself a- Golde hraitmas. :/e :golden perio haa eome round, aga, as so log prome. The on-an theam at t lie gther, iatis,--Major Bter, seiat m:the centre of thesofa, with Madame Agnes-Theresa on oe hahn, and :MrS Mazyckon QHRISM(*AS-HOW ,OLDEN. othe other, had them both in, hand as a. dextrous driver two, -atndintractable steeds, whom he has subdued; and the free: smi e playinag upon a11 three countenances, 'as we entered, was conlusi v: of such a conjunction: of the planets, as held forth theliap,!00' auguries for the nfuture, in respectto the: currents:of true i: Company continued to arrive., The groups which had :n4 forth returned. The house was thronged, -.The respectable bo: servant looked in at the library. The Major .rose, went to0 e door, looked at his watch, came back, saida few ords,by way of apology, to the ladies with whom he had been doing the aniae, and then disappeared. The dinner hour was approaching.:Itwas soon signalled. Te Major returned. His arm was tendered to Mrs. Mazyck; Madame Agnes-Theresa was served with that.:of anothe ancient Major, quite as conspicuous in the parishas hof Bulmer; and then, each to his mates, we followed all in lo-ngpo- cession. Need I say, that, while Ned Bulmer, by singulargo fortune, was enabled to escort Paula, by the merest accident, I happened to be nighenough at the moment to yield my arm toBa- trice. Really, the thing was thoroughly providential in both cases. Such a dinner The parish, famous for its dinners, had nver seen one like it. It is beyond description. Twoenormous tab 0oc- cupying the whole length of the spacious dining-rom,were loaded with every possible form and variety of edible. But the turkeywa not allowed, as is usuallythe case in our country, to usurp theplae of honour on this occasion. There was a couple of these:bd to each table; but :they stood nothefore the master ofthe feast. At:our entrance, the pace-on the cloth was vacant at :1iisend of the table. He stood erecQknife inhand, evidentlyin epectaon. He hadone of his famous oldEnglishcards totplay. On of the turkies was at oneof the: tables Whe re I was required: to re the fair Beatrice on Bmyright: ; ,T oers were iicei'f-"a';eaig the two boards. :Presently, we heard solemn music :wt':::en ... th-e s emaanp in oe 1 IT'; '":: 'the doori was reopened,/ the6 i . . .. his appearanceewith anenormousdiSh ; " * * ** * , . . * ' page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] i48 ^8' THMioOfEN OBRg6t TMAS, ; -My friends," quoth-the ,Major, in a speech that was evidently prepared, and whichwe abridge to our, dimensions, "I am about t'breistre a custom common in all the good old English establish- inment, even within the last hundred years. The tuirkey has been raised to quite, unmerited honour among us. I am-willing to as- sign hfim his place upon our table", but I shall depose him fi'om - the first place hereafter. That properly belongs to the Boar's H liead! The Boar'sy Head was: the famous dish at Christmas, in old:England; not the turkey. The turkey is an innovation. He is purely an American fowl, anid 'vas utterly unknown in Europe until after the Spaniards found this continent. He is a respecta- ble bird, particularly in size; but in flavour, cannot rank with- the duck, or even a well-dressed young goose. There is no reason why. he should supersede the Boar's Head. I am willing to gite him the first place -on New Year's day, as representing a new era and, a new country; but on Christmas, as a good Christian, I am bound to- stick to the'text of the Fathers, Their creed I give you in- their owni anguage, as it was chaunted five hundred years'ago. Thbe steward whoplaced the Boar's Head on the table, -brought it f in with the sound of music, and chaunted, as he advanced, the following Christmas cirol, which, by the way, I -have, with the as, setane of y young ffiend, Richard Cooper here, somewhat ven- red to modernize to correspond with -the vernacuar. -The Ma jor then 'proceeded to repeat, in the formal, sonorous manner:of a schoolboy, whose voice is in the transition:state, a cross between: squeak and croak, the following ditty : "aput-apri defero, - Reddenslaudes Domino!'; : , Lb'! .the:Bo a!Head, hehiat spoil'd. - The goodly 'vies where many toil'd,- ' :Merriiy masters, beassoil'd, I pray you all sing merrily,. : ' ' ' d 't -QUTi esiisQo i n v t ---cov vo. Th6eboair, ihead, you iust inderstand, . Ts the chief sertice in this land- : ?- :. CHRISTMAS-HOW GOLDEN. 149 And here it lies at your. command,- ' Clad in bay and rosemary;- .':; - Servite cum, cantico. , Wih song we bring the, wild boar's head, - He spoiled our vines-wtith mustard spread, . The beast is good and gentle dead, . Pray, masters, eat him heartily,-- . -Reddens laudes :oinino." But the Major wa not-allowed to finsh his recitation, W0e had:, prepared a surprise for the strategist. , Ned and myself, having copies of the carol, Ihado secretly adapted it toappropriate :mu sic, and, suffering the Majbr only to make a fairentranceupon, the ve re, we broke in with ,a. loud chorus. At first, he stopped and looked at us-with a face of doubt. Was it, an offence ,to , be resentedt: We ,had taken the words out, of his mouth.- We- had converted the recitation :into a, chant, the chaut intoing a- song. Ough t h0.to be angry . A moment decided the question. .'Certainly, a- carol oughtto,be, sung. We had only carried out, his'prposemowref fectually than he was able to do-it himself.- We had surprise.-, but it was a tribute to his objects and tastes that we had prepeaed in ihis surprise. The cloud disappeared; he laugthed; hie 'claplt':- his hands;. he joined with'stentoriaunlungs in the chorius, and o her voices chimed:in. We obtained a magnificent triumprh,. , ;' ; Meanwhile, the Boar's Head, with a mammoth lemoin! huge Jaws, and enveloped in bay leaves and rosemary, waet down in state before uS . It was the head-of-one of:the rgesof the -wild: boars that we had slain inour hunt.; Itwas wel dressed it was delicious.' Our oldEnglih fathers s knew .:what was o4:; but I aam. not surethat any of the ladies -parook -of the ..sav- dish. ': "Milk for babes, meat for men!' muttered the ajr in a tone between orn and pity, The feastproceedd, the Baro,neX' patiai g, occasi nally on ,Boar -.,ffieads .d : Huts , !s';i m that4as on every lairgepltati ,e. swp ,u a r 18- page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. Wrous, the proper taste required that We should always awakened to d ish for Christmas. I shallnot report his several speeches ercise. The l incidental topics. The champagne made its own fre- stretched out rts about this time, and left it rather difficult to follow back-ground, r :The Major now drank with Madame Agnes-Theresa; come forward. the; widow Mazyck, and almost made the circuit of the appeared, to X ting grace with the matrons. The younger part of the began for the vere not slow to follow the example. What sweet and of a man was things were whispered to the several parties beside us- and as each w. vine, but under the rose. ,The meats disappeared, the ancient Di took their place, and disappeared in turn. The bestof a box, a bag, indtheir finale at last. Up rose the ladies, and, with a ing written up "drained in their honour, we followed them to the par- nated. Now e library. A brief pause, and anew summons brought one or other c hall. 'The curtain was raised; the Christmas Tree was friendship wei its glory. The doors being closed and the dusk pre- "See," said little coloured glass lamps had been lighted among the bestowed upol and, behind the tiree, peeringover it, raised upon - a scaf- ada breast . od a gigantic figure-a venerable man, fit to be emble- her, plain g Le-ancient Jupiter, with a fair, full face, large, mild blue dubiously, an 'es bold and expressive, yet gentle ;'but, instead of hair, on, then put as covered with flowing gray moss, and, friom his chin, on the subjec lown upon his breast, the gray moss fell in voluminous Butwho p d burden. He realized the picture of the BritishDruid. voies.! Wh i he bore a branch of the mistletoe, in the other a long that there is I, with a silver crook at the extremity. The children whose hands eir hands as soon as they saw the figure,6id ried terness! ! look at Father Christmas! Father Christmasi! Father "And they were right. Our saint is an English, not int, be it'rememebered; and Father Christmas, or the Jhrystmasse," hs he used to be styled, iv a much more person, i our imagination, than the dapper little Man- lin whom they call Santa Olaui le clamours of the children, the good father was fully . I ' CHRISTMAS-HOW. OLDEN. 1. 5 [eeds of benevolence. His crookwas in instant ex- rook with a gift. hanging to it, was immediatly o one after the other--a sweet female voice from the i aming the littleffavourite as he or she was requiredto ::'i When the juveniles were all endowed, they dis- reigh and value their possessions; and the interest more mature. The former voice was silent, and that ^ heard. He named alady,then another, andanother; as called and presented herself at the foot of the tree, 'uid extended his crooktowards her, bearing upon itf )r bundle, carefully enveloping the gift, her name be- on it. Soon the voices from the background aiter- it was a male, now a female voice, each calling for f the opposite sex, until all the tokens of love and e distribuitd. Beatrice Mazyck to me,-" see what the Father has - i me",; and she showed me a lovely pair of braclets in, in uniform style. She did not see, untilshowed ld ring at the bottom of the box. She looked at it 1 at me dubiously, tried it on every finger but lth it quietly back in the ease, and had no more to say ayed the venerable Father, and who played the sweet it matter? Better that the juveniles should suppose in unfamiliar Being, always walking beside them,in are fairy gifts and favours, as we as birch and bitm c, A A.', ' i ,iL', I' )e '1eD s[. page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 1521, ' WE THB' GOODIEN W CRSTMAS. CHAPTER XVIII. DENOUEMENT. :,O D-FatheIr Chrystmasse, in the South, does not confine. his fa- Ours to the palace. The wigwam and the cabin, get a fair por- tion of his smiles. In other counthes, poverty is allowed .but a singlepprivilege-that of labour. The right of one' neighbour to woirk, is that which no one questionsany where. In all countries' but those-in which slavery exists, poverty is supposed to enjoy no other. But there is little or nopoverty in the South. Even the slave is rrich. He is rich, in certainty-security ;-he is insured aygainst coldf and hunger,-the two terrible powes, that, more than all others, affiight the ciilized world. Secure from and against these the slave is absolutely free from care. He has. to work, that is true,,but work,- adpted to one's capacity, suited to one's nature, and^nbt too heary- for one's strength, is perhap the greatest of:all hum-.an blessings, sin e it is the best security for good health and good morals. Cuffee and Sam]bo are thus secure and thus made :hapy. ;But .Cuffee and Sambo, like other handsomer and happy people, would never be content with these; and the good-nat ured, benevolent, and jaccommodating Father Chystmasse has atree bearing goodfiuits also for'them. :When, accordingly, theguests of ,Maijo Bulmer had each received his little token of Christian sympathyvand goodd will, the Christmas cedar was removed to the overseers house, and that. night the old Druid officiated beh]d its branches for the benefit of the negroes.' ow they. crowded and scrambled about, one over the shoulders of the other, eaoh in hisbet garments, for the favours of thekindlwiz wd:! There were, among the guests at "The arony," a learned proessor from one of thNorthern Colleges,: and a young English gentleman, the younger. son ,of a noble house. They watched the-scene with a staing o unosity. Itenabled them :quietly to revise .a hunred DE-NO MEUENT. ' ' - - IS Ot * * erring Inotions :and stupid :prejudices.- -When they behel:d t - or a, dozen superannuated negroes,lfrom whose feeble an3a/iig limbs, sometimes utterly palsied, no :laboiur could be- 0obi ed, and Who were yet to be fed, and clad, and nursed, andpysi ,until- Death should close the scene, negroes Iho had been im f " situation for perhaps a dozen years ;-whenthey beheld iftymor little urchins,-barely able to toddle about and be-miischievous,^wh' miut :be provided also with fooda clothing and shelter, for. whih they could give no equivalent in- labour for ten or a dozen years' at leastl;-,they began to conceive something of that inevitable chaity which characterizes the institution of Southern: slavery. And /whn they saw that this charity did not confine itself to the mere/neceos- rins of life, but bestowed its little precious luxuies- also ;-leavin no pang to poverty,-leaving no poverty;--te slave permitted play, and pleasure-,and showing at every bound and every, bre*- . and every look and every word, that he lived in hiz impulses as well as in his iimbs,--wa permitted to gratify impulses -and yearfin '; and desires, which the-poverty in other lands is onlypermit ted to dream of ;-they began to shifti and change the argi"men, ':id gravely to contend that this was another objection to the institu- tion,; that it left the negro in a-condition of too much content! in, other words, the condition was so agreeable as to leave him8satinf. fied with it. But we will not discuss the matter with such bulet- headed-boobies. Enough that Samboi and Cuffee,:andSibby and Dinah, Tom and Toney, are all making off: with something:under the arm, derived from the bountyof the betevolent Father Chys 1 mse6, whom they half believe to be a real personage-a sort - f haif':Deity, hlalf mortal, coming o nce a year, to see that they a ahnldeserve to be happy. Leaving them in groups aut -the grounds,;werprepare for another display of fireworks,?afer whi we (djbAiri . to the mansion, obedient to thecallo':the -vioi : Supposing you, dearly beloved reader offeither genrthetender and the tough,to be insome degree famiiar withthe: lawsof a:: will:seea thafwe have this night left bly\fotour dT^- page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] $ .'64 ^ ;THE OOLDRNXCTHRISTMAS. artistisa creator, andso-- Fate,. He has established his premi. ses, and the: results are inevitable; they bind him just as rigidly as they do his Dramatis Personse. What we do, accordingly, must be done quickly. The "Golden Christmas " ends with- this night, and our parties must be disposed of, Who must-be- dis- posed of? m-ow must they be disposed 'of Who are the vic; tims? What the processes You, perhaps, can all of you an. swer these questions-all except the last. And that is a question I to which I can only help you to an answer, as I proceed, and in i the naturaliprogress of events. You must not be surprised at-this. j The artist does' not make events; they make themselves.- They / belong to the characterization. The - author makes the character. If this be made to act consistently;--and this is the great necessity inall works o fiction,-events flow from its action necessarily, and one: naturally "evolves another, till the whole action is complete. ; Here is the whole-secret of the novelist. Now, all that I can tell you of Ea certainty is this,--that the action must be complete -to. ; night; and that the persons of the story may be expected to ex- hibit just the --same sort of conduct which they have shown from the begioning. More I cannot report. You must judge for your- selves -of what you/have to expect. You may ask, Shall the se- quel be a happy one?. That, of course, or it would not be the "Golden Christmas." Will Ned Bulmer be allowed to marry pretty Paula Bonneau/? Do you suppose, with such characters as they have shownjthey will be happy together? And what: of Dick Cooper and Beatrice Mazyck? The question naturally oc- curs, in answer to this,-;-What will Tabitha say to it, the house- keeper of that bachelor? But, really, if you thus 'go on making these inquiries, we shall: never make an end of it. Even now, M'essrs. Walker,- Richards & Co., are crying aloud- for "copy," through the lungs of forty printing :office- fiends. The readers, they cry, are becoming impatient, Nothing, but a marriage, or some other catastrophe, o6f equalmagnitude, Swill satisfy them.. If so-reveons a nous mouttons! Letus see hat our folks are about. 's , areab' ' 1-.' ' - * r * ^ - The tea service over, the- fire-works- displayed, all relimarien at an ends the violins in full tune, the dancers are preparing- fr their partners. Ned Bulmer, arm in slingis standinginthe floor. The; Major approaches him with a whisper. His eyes tum upon; Beatrice Mazyck. - . "Ned, my -boy, let me repeit my wishes once more. It is'nobt too late. Paula Bonneau is no doubt a good girl, a fine, grl; a pretty girl, but there is no such woman in the parish as-Beatrice." "e"Father," answered Ned very solemnly, though in a whisper also,--"Yourtaking the reins out of my hand has already broken my arm: your further attempts at driving me may break my heart?" "'Break the d- !" 'burst out from the old man, who turned away in a huff. He came up to me, muttering,- "Hte's as stubborn as Ben Fisher's mule, that always reared going up hill, and took the studs going down! How to excuse myself to' Mrs. Mazyck!" I could give him neither advice nor consolation; and hewheeled out of the room as soonas he saw that Ned, lame as hewas,was taking Paula Bonneau out for the cotillion. I took o0utBeatrice at thesame time. How we danced, with; what glee, what perfect abanddnment to the influences of the season, must be -lefttocon jeeture.- Description is impossible. The happiness was not con- fined to the dances,. The elderly folks had -their own and various modes of recreation. Some,-of course,: looked on, enjoying-the dancing, just as much as I:if they themselves had a: foot inn it. Others were gathered together in side rooms, in t he ings, finding solace in conversation; others, apart also, were egaged in whit-; and in the hall, or grand passage way, thecurtain still being sus- peded across it, otherswers ere preparing for tableaux, For these, the: characters and scenes were numerous; and a couple of coti*;' lions and a/ reel being ended, the little bell summoned the speeta- tors to the hall, where, in the area outside of the curtain, they awaited its :rising.:: I was among the actirs, and cansay nothing of the exhibitio exexcept that it was apparently quite successful tStay page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 1M6if TfB 0Oltts09 -O ItTMA0, 1, viath the audience. But it led-to other scenes, more lmportanth to the eve tt to which I must hasten. It happened that, amnong the narrgements, ^I was cst tor the part of Ferdinand,: and Beatrice for .-Miranda, the scene taken from "The Tempest." ' Beatrice \ looked admirably the:Miranda. Her fair complexion, calm, mnno cent features, the simple dignity in her expression, the artless grace f her actioun, all became the presentment wonderfully well. I flatter :myself I made a comely -Ferdinand enough. I have never doubted that. I am. a tolerably good looking fellow, as the world goes.. Well- we wre together in the library, which we had con- verted, into. a- sort of green, room. We were preparing .for. the' - moment when we should be called to the stage, Beatrice had just joined me firon the ladies 'tiring room in the rear, and, under the pretence of surveying her costume, I took her hand; held her, a litle off,- and allowed my eyes to devour greedily all her beautiful proportions. There was nobody at that moment in the room. -The hallt was again empty, the audience having returned -tdthe parlour until the bell should again give the signal. when the stage should be occupied. There is a moment in the -career of a lover, when someninstinet emotion spurs him to an audacity, from which at most other moments, he would-be very apt to shrink. The cour- age of love wonderfully comes and goes. I was now carried away by mine. The blood, rushed in a torrent about my heart. - It mounted to amy brain, as billows of the sea to the shore. :I whispered pas- sionat4 ,words.;-,I breathed passionate- assurances,;-I .uttered vaow and entreaties in the same, breath; and the -bosom of:.Bea- triceheaved -beneath her bodice; and -her eyes rose, large ,id dewytil the met the gaze,-of mine., She did not speak, buth silently lifted the hand'which I clasped, and I beheld the ring which she'had found in :the Christmas :box, securely. circling the particular-finger. . Then she spoke, in a tremulous whisper,- IWarreito notyoiurs T, IothrrTied t8he hand to-my lips; the next momenti my..afjip en- ...." DE --OUEMENNT. 3 ^ 'ircled her waist; I drew her up to my bosom, and our-lips metiA ie fiMtrtmost precious kiss of love 1 , :We forgot' the world-heard nothing-saw not ingfeat ed lothingZ-in that delicious moment of certain bliss.: Litle did :we- . Iream, then, that any eye was upon us but that of Heaven.- et: so it was It so happened, that the-excellent- Madame e Agnes Theresa, looking out for Paula, who had temporarily disappeared, came to the iner door of thelibrary from the 'tiring room. . er light footstep was unheard upon the heavy andyieding carpeting. Our backs were to the door. She beheld us in that first, fond, all-: forgetting embrace- my hand about the waist of Beatrice her lips held fast beneath-the pressure of mine. Madame Agnes- Theresa stole away as silentlyr as she came. She was all .i a pleasurable glow of excitement She had a spice of mischieous. malice in her composition, spit9 of her Christian benevolence,.and she ,amiably resolved to make iomebody uncomfortable. ' ..For;me, she had the best of feelings,--nay, sympathies,-and itOrealy re- joiced her to see that I wa. successful with Beatrice. -ButforMA Mazyck she had other feelings, equivocal at least, if. not unfriendly. That good lady had a pride equal to her own, andwhen two proud planets encounter in the same sky, there is no tellingwhich- is ,most anxious to put out the light of the other. She suspected^the uA- derstanding between Major Bulmer and Mrs, Mazyck,'fowrthe i an of their two bouses, and it did not greatly displease her t: -see the. scheme defeated. Such being her temper on :the subject,Oshe huriied back to one of the side rooms,- where Mrs. Mazyck was engaged in chat with a littlee circle; but, on her way, f t. ..t y forus, encouteed ourmaiden aunt, godiss. Janet::Bule With a chuckle, she whispered in her ears thediscovery whiehe had made, and huried onwards.. M Biss BulmeB r immedatlyo :, jectured :the use which-sh;e::would malke: of the . seeiet--. . ha more, amiable pirit, she imediately .hastednto; .andfound upon the .sofa,. in. an- attitWgdenot .less:,ign anthat :.a'i '14 . page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] A5^- THE GOtDENs CRISTMAS. Madame Agnes -had beheld-us.: We started up at her en trances - . "What are you chi-den ablut f she asked. "You have been seen-by-Mrs,Girardin, and she is-so full of the- merits of her dis- overy, that -she will surely summon all the world to see it. HeBre- to :'the stage-get out of the way, if you would avoid all sorts of scwndal. ' '. --'C-With these words, she hurried us through the private door, and upont-he stage, she herself going out of the large door into the part of the hall in front of the curtain, and making her way -to 'the parlour,: ,We closed the door behind us. I then left Beatrice upon the stage, and throwing-a cloak over my gay, costume, I lifted a corner of the curtain, and made for the parlour also. Our escape: was ,complete, and not, made- three: minutes too soon. The amiable Madame Agnes, in. the mean time, had found' Mrs. Ma- :zycky , She was so eager of speech, that she momentarily forgot her- dignity She stooped over the table, and whispered in, the 'ear'Of' the latter,-- :"Come,- quickly, if you would see a couple practising in a ta- bleau which they will haridly show us upon the stage." ' Mis. Mazyck was not unwilling to see sights.[ She never dreamed, however, ;that the desire of her friend was to show, her " the Ele- phant.'" She got up quickly, and hurried off with-her conductor. Well --was she gratified . See how events shape htiemselves upon one another. It so happened, that, scarcely had we disap- peared from the:library, than Paiula Bonneau entered it, costumed for Juliet. She was joined-the next moment by -Ned Bulmer, in - :the-haractrof :Romeo, is broken arm being conced by];he- darkAlelo,with which he only in ;part disguised his rich attire. 3:iir love experience was not so recent and fresh as that 'of B ea triceaied myself They had no preliminaries to orvercome. :: ":Why Paula, my :nnpareii;: you:look -a thousad time los ve- liHethan :ever, And-he caught he}r in: his aars, and shae lifted her little mouth, as if she quitewell knew whatwas i ng, and-- , DENOUEMENT. 16 W Mrs. Mazyck- stood at the door, with Madame Agnes-Theresa, utterly confounded, looking over her shoulder! She had cometo witness a very different scene, or with very different parties. UShehwas dumb--done up-dead-all in an instant. /That one glance show- ed her all the world in confusion. She began to :listen -for -the thunder.. She took for granted that a world's hurricane, wreking every thing, was about to break loose. In the twinkling of an eye, she thought of all the conflagrations and disasters that had ever threatened and devoured mankind. - She -thought of the French Revolution; the explosion of Mount Vesuvius; the massacre of the Holy Innocents; the crusades and death of Saint Louis; thegreat fire in Charleston,' which destroyed. St. Philip's Church; thelatae snow storm which had demolished her orange trees; the burning of the Richmond theatre; the killing of the hundred schoo-hildren in New York, and the speeches of Kossuth andLolao Monites. Allu these terrible things and thoughts rushed through her brain inthe same moment ;--ail-together, piled up one on tp ofthe othe r o ,- rolled together, one, in the wrappings of the other--Mount TVesu vius head over ears in the -snow storm and Kossuth- and Lola ,Montes, somehow busy with the guillotme andthe -Parisi ans, in the Reign-of Terror.- The poor old lady had prepared a terrible surprise for herself, and was 'hoist with her own petard"f ' One stupid moment motionless she stood,": and, all the while, the lips of Romeo were doing fearful execution, spite of her struggles, upon ,those of the lovely. little Juliet.. * ::Youshould have seen the quiet, sly, expressive glance of Mms. Maok, looking round and upward into"the vacant visage of her companion. It said volumes. It did not need that she shouldd whisper-" truly, this is a tableau, such as, they never would have iven to the public!- " That glance restored our venerable grand- mother to speecth. , -; The sounds broke forth-in a sort of sobbing-shriek. ' "Why PaUla,-Paula Bonneau, Isay ' 1" - - : ;Then the guilty couple stared, looking fbuitlessly: reo undforie * z X. * . . page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] ?60h THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. means of escape, hardly seeming to conjecture w here the sounds came from, and both utterly dumb with consternation. Never was surprise, on all sides, so:complete. Says Mrs. Mazycksatirically,-- "Wh 7iy, Mrs. Giraidin, was this, indeed, the tableau Which you meant me tofsee." - The good gooandmother her gave her a savage look, then pushed by her, and- striding into the room, confronted the young people. :" Paula Bonneau, can- I believe my eyes." The exigency of the case made-the little damsel strong. She lifted her eyes to the face of the old lady: her voice grew strong; her heart recovered all its courage. " Yes, mamma, it is true, I love Mr. Bulmer, and he loves me, and "Indeed-! DoI hear? Can I believe my own ears? Why, 'Paula Bonneau, this is the most astonishing boldness. Tm ashamed for you! w as ever heard such language !" ,'Itis plain enough !P quoth Mrs. Mazyck, drily, and she seemed greatly to enjoy the consternation of the- grandmother. The lat- ter gave her another fierce look and proceeded. - " Oh! mamma, you must not be angry !" cried the dear little girl, now attempting to throw her arms about -the old lady, who resisted the endearment. "It is true, mamma, what I tell you. I love Edward, more than any other person. IFwill never marry any man but Edward." " Heavens! what a child! You will never many any other man!. What impiety--what indelicacy! And you: will -force yourself into a family which hates and despises your family-- which will always look upon you as an intruder--" Here Ned Bulmer found an opportunity to interfere. His cour- age returned to him at the light moment. ' "No, M's. Girardin,. never ! You do us wrong, madam, very great wrong, I assure you. You and your family-we shall-. He was arrested Sin his-speech. His father, who hadl entered the room unseen, now interposed. DEXOUEMENT. rT Wa , , "It is proper that I should speak now," said he. "Mrs. Girar- , .| idin, let me plead with you for these young people. I have- not ,,, iurged or countenaned this proeeding in any way; in fact, I have lhitherto opposed it; not because of any objection or disikeitoo you or your family which, now, I honestly respect and honq,but - ': because I had looked in another quarter for my soe. But,'sinc -- myt choice, is not his, I owe it to him, and :to your daughte, to '. do all I can to make them happy. Their young hearts refuse to follow the course which ours would prescribe for them; and, per. haps, they are the'wiser, and will be the happier for it. _We would iave perpetuated prejudice and hatred between our families; they | will drive out-these evil spirits with Love. Let us not oppose th etter influence. Let me entreat you to forego your frowns. Gi@ve m your.blessing, as here, at this blessed season, when all the influences of -life are meant to be auspicious to human happiness Ifreely bestow. upon them mine. My son has thwarted some of / y most favourite Wishes; but shall I not make my son happy if I han, ' Will you be less merciful to:your daughter ? Take her to your armsi.my dear madam, and let our families, hitherto sepa- [rated by evil influences, be now united by'blessing ones." ,: The voice of Mrs Mazyck sounded immediately in my ears, for by this time I had joined the circle also. "Mr. Cooper, will you be pleased to order my carriage." Though her words were addressed to me, they were loud enough to be heard over the whole room. Major Bulmer started , and approached her. She: turned-away at his approach, But he : was not a man to .be baffled.", "N'ay, nay, Mrs. Mazyck," he said gently, taking her hard- "this; must not be. You must not be angry with me, my:dear madam; because I failed to do what, I wished, and had believed myself able to do. Ihave been disappbinted-defeated- intmt y- ;' purpose-and.I honestly assure you that I greatly regret it.-: Though compelled to yield now; to an arranigement which seems. page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] "t I\ TB DTHE aOLDE N CHRISTMAS. inevitable, yet I do so- With real sorrow.: I should greatly have preferre&dthe arrangement which would have given my son[J to your ughter" Another voice now arrested that of the Major. It was that- of Beatrice Mawick. The explosion in the library had brought her down from the where I had left her,' asMiranda, ap she had been a silent auditor and spectator- of the scene, in woh, she now found it iecessary to take part. She touched the Majc n his arm, and said, in a whisper- - ".I thank -you, Major Bulmer,' for your good intentions; but mother and yourself were greatly mistaken in this matter. Let me say to you, now, and prevent further mistakes, that the propo- sed arrangement was quite impossible. Ned Bulmer knew per-: "fectly well, long ago, thatc. e were not made for each other.' We have been friends quite too long to suffer any misunderstanding between us on any such subject. So, I beg you to relieve yor- self of al further disquiet in regard to it, and if you will suffer me to take mamma into the other room, I will soon satisfy her, that if there be anybody to- blame in the business, I am the per; son. Mamma--" And she took the/arm of the severe lady, but paused fori a mo- ment, and'said in undertones to me--" Don't order the carriage." The mother heard her. "But, why not- I am about to go." ; - "You can't go, mamma. I will show you good, reasons for it." And the two went into the 'tiring room together. They'were gone full half hour, and when I met them again, they were:in mthe parlout, the mother apparently resigned to her fate. I saw at a moment that the revelation had been made. The maternal -yes 6e*stedpn me with a searching expression, fill of meaning,-not ex actly placid, I confess, but not severe. The way was opened for me, and I had todo the rest. Meanwhile, the progress in the library, with the otheriparties, had reached a similar conclusion. The feud :between the rival a ismlr o a DENOUTPMSONT, l hopses, of, Bulmer and Bonneau, rwadijuteds. - An:hoir!tein thei:parlour, standinghefore.^te fire, JohnBull:siothe rubbed. and lapped-his hands together, with asmuch glee as : bis projects had succeeded just as he had, deivised themn. I "This" )said he, - is, indeed a Golden Christmas. Two p' of hearts inade happy t-unight. -Positively, ladies, I could' 1t tempted-to look about me myself, for "a consoler in the shape d ofa wife. I feel quite as young as at forty. I am not ice. . There is still a warm current about my heart,y that almost persuades me to be in love. Ah! if I could findasomebody to smileupon me!" And he looked, comically fond,. now upon Mrs. Mayck, and now upon Madame Agnes-Theresa. The former lifted:a proud head, and the latter waved her fan deliberately between heyface and the Majors glances, as if dreading their ardency. The- latter was too wary, to continue the subject. He changed itrapidly, ad, being in a free vein of speech, he gave us a most interesting toy of the settlement of "The Barony," --by hi's great 'gr d anathier This involved a full account of the ancient feuds of thie Buler and Bonneau families, showing how it was begun, and how con-- tiniued through successive generations. The 'episode, had 'we space, should be given here. aIt-rslull of imatlon aindadven- ture, and gave an admirable picture of early life in the colony.- The subject' was a favourite one with the Major, and he handled it with equal skill, spirit andi discretion. We must reserve it Tor a future Chistmas Chronicle. - -The reader may look for lit some day hereafter, God willing, under the title-of "The An cient!Feud between .the Houses of Bulmer and Bonneau."' They shaill-f*i our-York and Lancster histories in time to come.- Enough that we succeeded in healing the feud after royal exampie- our rosesr white and red, for the benefit of other hearts; 'itid;d riot know ho tobe: happy -sho wlgthem hbW4tothrow d6th barriers of prejudice, hate, self-esteem and superstition,: by l^' the heart, under natural inpulse actoordig to i o t and under those benig lawshihareivia r *i., andF dI v - ';t - , ' k page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] lj84 , - THE GOLDISHk CHRISTMAS. Well!--what need of further delay?--Does it need that I should say we went to supper that night, after all our excitements?-Say what we had for supper, and who ate, and who, with hearts too full already, had no appetite for meaner food . And that the old ladies went finally to bed; that the young qnes followed them; thiat the lads would wind up the night with egg-nog, and .thit some did not go to bed at all? -We may dispense with all th ip ' So may. the fates, The future fashion, that it shall not cheat The true fond hearts- which welcome it." EARLY in January, t the entreaties of Major Bulmer himself, Ned led Paula Bonneau to the altar. We had a famous wed- ding. Are you curious to know how fares that other couple with whose af'airW du coeur I have somewhat employed your attention? Ask Tabitha, my present housekeeper. Nayv, hear her, what she says to me, at the moment I am Writing. "Look: yer, Mass Dick, wha' dis, I yer ." "What, Tabitha " "Old Sam Bonneau bin to de gate yesterday, and he say you and Miss Be'trice, Mazyck guine to get married in two mont' from now. You no bin tell me nothing :bout 'em." aNo, Tabitha; but now that you have heard it, I may as well confess the truth. God willing, the thing will happen." "Spec den, Mass Dick, you no want me wid you in de:house- keeping?. Don't 'tinks I kin 'gree wid young woman thatlub see heap ob'people-and keeps much comp'ny, and is always making fuss ob house cleaning, and brushing up, and confusions among sarbants.'1 ," Can't do without you, Tabby. You must try. Miss Beatrice. I think you'll get on very well with her."' "Bin git on berry well widout 'emi" growled my domestic, Hle WaW asshe fung herself out of the breakfst-oOm. - * DEXOUEMNT ' , ' , -O' 1" t ' ;^- HERE ends our story. Story, quotha!' The reader is half ;i , . elined to blaze out at the presumption which dignifies, wi^ ;.. name of story, a narrative which -has neither duel, nor robbery, nor murder-neither crime nor criminal-, Yet, not toofast. ltso i happens that there was a criminal that Chfistmas, and a crimei a - - the ' Barony t and I may as well give the affair, as it concerns two - of the persons employed in our chronicle. You remember Jehti, the coachman of Miss Bulmer? H-e :was the criminal. The " crime committed was theft. The thiingstolen was a fine fat shf, - the property of Zacharias, the gentlemanly body servant of Ma- jor Bulmer. Zacharias made his complaint the day after Chriiis - mas. Jehu was brought up for examination at the home of the' . overseer. Zack stated his cae in the most gentlemanly style snd language. He was the owner of seven hogs. The shoat stolen was one of the fattest. He had designed it for his New Years ' dinner. He had invited "certain friends to dine with him on :that day-Messrs. Tom, Tony, Peter, Sam, Fergus, &c.,--geitlemen of colour, belonging to certain planters of the neighbourhood. His shoat disappeared two days before. Jehu gave a supper on Christmas night. On that occasion the stolen shoat was served up-to numerous guests. Here Jehu, shifting his position so as to transfer the weight of his body from his right to his- left leg, and throwing his head sideways upon his left shoulder,put-in snappishy- - -"Ax 'em, maussa, ef he no eat some of de pig he sef." The question: was accordingly put. Zacharias admitted :that, as the guest of Jehu that night, he had partaken of his own pig. H - was ignorant of that fact. H- ad- e known it while eati/dg, he dies not know what might have been the consequence. He might" : havebeen very angry-he mighthave been taken ill.: i wH6eOld' have felt :deeply the death of the favourite shoat, cut off abliit t ppointed time.'. - . A The case was fully established. But Jehu insistedo uponh; ' nerit in makinga frank and free confession. - ;8 :; : f v, '" .. .: -, ',: ' ,' - . : ; :,J5 an sion. IAi page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] THE -GOLDEN CHRISTMAS. "I won't tellY youbit o' lie, maussa. You know, maussaI always bin tell you, I can't help it--I must tief pig. I nebber, so long as I khow dis place, bin tief noting else but pig. Maussa, you trus' meid ting iss nethi me wid heeo' ting s ,im hee ngs- clotieis hanklchil money, silber spoon, ebbry ting-iobody kin say Jehu ebber tief so much as acopper wort'. But maussa, Ican'thelp it-I musttiefpig. Fat pig aint mek for run an grunt jis' where he please, and nebber gee anybody brile and sassage. :I can't le 'em pass. I must knock em ober when I see 'em so fat and sassy.- Der's a someting mek me do it, maussa. Der's a somebody dat's a saying in my ear all de time--' kill de pig, Jehu ' I kill 'em: I kill Zach pig-I tell you trute, maussa-da me kill 'em-but wha' den? ' Ef Zach had a bin say to me-'Jehu, da's a fat pig o' mine--I guine kill 'em and hab supper New Year night, Jehu, and you shall hab taste ob 'em, wid oder coloured gentlemen sarbants,'--ef he bin say datto me/aussa, I nebber bin touch he pig, Buthe nebber say de wud; ussa; ax em ef he ebbersay sich 'ting to me." Zacharias admitted that he had been guiltless of the suggested civility; but he submitted whether he was required to do so, un- less he pleased it; and whether his forbearance to do so, afforded any justification to Jehu, for slaughtering his innocent porker be- fore its time. The subject was one of grave discussion, and was closely argued. Jehu particularly insisted upon it, thinking it e great, point gained to establish the allegation. His next point was of like character, and he urged iith even more tenacity. " Zach, said he, "ent I come to you, cibbil, like a gentleman, and ax you to my supper ." :Zih admitted the civility. But, by the way, he took care to i'sinuat that he thought his acceptance a great condescension, to whic he was influenced simply by the nature of the season- Christmas inculcating condescension among the other chaities.- [ :was by no means an admirer of Jeh -idd not rank him among is acquaintance-thoughtis mannes ddlvugar am ,'"' ' '. * -n , .lt:hig *aiic4 vu g thought his language partictlary low. But was imself o : tf Indulgent and amiable temnper,: and frequently condesenidd' 'hrough mere charity, 'to the sacrifice of good; taste t? iW - -i avowed his resolution never to be caught-in suchcompany agf - Jehu eyed -him savagely wile he, made this' answer, as awld western hunter wouldeye a Broadway dandy, making a similarly complacent speech, with. the secret determination to 'take the change out of him? the moment lie caught him on the high road. "Ax um, ef he no eat hearty-ob de pig, maussa.". Zacharias admitted that the pig was well-diessed, in excellent 'condition, and his own appetite was notiss He was ot trou bled much with indigestion. Had on-some occasion suffered from this disease, but not latterly. The evidence was finished. Jehu was called upon for his de fence. He made it with rare audacity. Admitted that he could not resist thetemptation to steal hog meat. It was a lawn fof is nature that he should steal it. Denied that he ever felt, a disp sition to steal anything else. Thinks thatif Zacharias:hada him due notice of his intention to kill the shoat for New ;Year's night, and had included him among the invited guests, he might have withstood the Tempter. Admits that'the-right of propeity in most things is sacred. Doubts, however, whether th6ere6canbe' any right of property in pigs. Owns pigs himself. ' Wouldnt be hard upon one who should steal his pigs; but, added slylythat, knowing the thempting character of fat pig, he nevrer encouraged: his in becomig so. It did not need; there were always a: sffi- cient number of fat pigs about for his purposes. :-To cohcle, Jehu held it to be a justification: of his offence, that Zach kept:iis pig fat and did not kill him-that, when he resolved tokill,: hb- trayed a :ni ggardly {nt y-a negro is seldom ni:gga: by the way,) unwillingness to give any portion of the supper t4,: i the said Jehu; and that,when the pig was stolen snd slaughMtei he as honourable enough to invite the Qwner to partae f he feast whih was not onfine t ig only. There were sun: :-r : page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] ) , 'I . QO oDB CIRSTMAlk .' excellent dishes-a fowl, a flitch of rusty bacon, a peck of pota- toes, and no less t3an fourteen loaves of corn bread. Jehu boldly threw himself upon the virtue of his case and of the court, aid the spirit of justice prevailing in the land, They did not suffice for his safety. He was found guilty, and sentented to the loss of three of his lean pigs to Zacharias, in compensation for his fat one. The Major said to him, however.- "If you keep honest till next New Year's, Jehu, and kill no more fat pigs of other people, I will give you three out of my stock." The decision did not seem to give that satisfaction to either party, which was anticipated from it. Jehu growled between his teeth unintelligibly, while Zacharias openly suggested his fears that when he had fattened'the three hogs thus assigned him, they were still in the same danger of being stolen and ea-n in conse- quence of the reckless voracity of the offender's appetite for hog's flesh, and his loose ideas on the subject of pig property. Says the Major quickly-- 'If he eats your pigs again, Zach, you shall eat him." 'Thank you, sir," quoth the gentlemanly Zacharias, with a look of sovereign disgust," but, don't think, sir, such meat would set easy on my stomach." There was a laugh, and Ned Bulmer, with that pernicious pro- pensity to punning, which was 'perpetually popping into play, ex- claimed- "Zach would be evidently better satisfied, before such a meal, that the: meat should be well dressed." And he shook his twig whip significantly over the shoulders of the criminal. No ways disomnfitted, Jehu, with a dogged reiteration of his mora nature, growled out as he retired-- - "Lick or kill, jes de same-dis nigger can't help tief fat pig in saeagpEtime." THE'. END,
