Eighty Years and More | Page 6

of sympathy and our gifts of cake
and candy. In time we became interested in the trials and sentences of
prisoners, and would go to the courthouse and listen to the proceedings.
Sometimes we would slip into the hotel where the judges and lawyers
dined, and help our little friend wait on table. The rushing of servants
to and fro, the calling of guests, the scolding of servants in the kitchen,
the banging of doors, the general hubbub, the noise and clatter, were all

idealized by me into one of those royal festivals Mary so often
described. To be allowed to carry plates of bread and butter, pie and
cheese I counted a high privilege. But more especially I enjoyed
listening to the conversations in regard to the probable fate of our
friends the prisoners in the jail. On one occasion I projected a few
remarks into a conversation between two lawyers, when one of them
turned abruptly to me and said, "Child, you'd better attend to your
business; bring me a glass of water." I replied indignantly, "I am not a
servant; I am here for fun."
In all these escapades we were followed by Peter, black as coal and six
feet in height. It seems to me now that his chief business was to
discover our whereabouts, get us home to dinner, and take us back to
school. Fortunately he was overflowing with curiosity and not averse to
lingering a while where anything of interest was to be seen or heard,
and, as we were deemed perfectly safe under his care, no questions
were asked when we got to the house, if we had been with him. He had
a long head and, through his diplomacy, we escaped much disagreeable
surveillance. Peter was very fond of attending court. All the lawyers
knew him, and wherever Peter went, the three little girls in his charge
went, too. Thus, with constant visits to the jail, courthouse, and my
father's office, I gleaned some idea of the danger of violating the law.
The great events of the year were the Christmas holidays, the Fourth of
July, and "general training," as the review of the county militia was
then called. The winter gala days are associated, in my memory, with
hanging up stockings and with turkeys, mince pies, sweet cider, and
sleighrides by moonlight. My earliest recollections of those happy days,
when schools were closed, books laid aside, and unusual liberties
allowed, center in that large cellar kitchen to which I have already
referred. There we spent many winter evenings in uninterrupted
enjoyment. A large fireplace with huge logs shed warmth and
cheerfulness around. In one corner sat Peter sawing his violin, while
our youthful neighbors danced with us and played blindman's buff
almost every evening during the vacation. The most interesting
character in this game was a black boy called Jacob (Peter's lieutenant),
who made things lively for us by always keeping one eye open--a wise

precaution to guard himself from danger, and to keep us on the jump.
Hickory nuts, sweet cider, and olie-koeks (a Dutch name for a fried
cake with raisins inside) were our refreshments when there came a lull
in the fun.
As St. Nicholas was supposed to come down the chimney, our
stockings were pinned on a broomstick, laid across two chairs in front
of the fireplace. We retired on Christmas Eve with the most pleasing
anticipations of what would be in our stockings next morning. The
thermometer in that latitude was often twenty degrees below zero, yet,
bright and early, we would run downstairs in our bare feet over the cold
floors to carry stockings, broom, etc., to the nursery. The gorgeous
presents that St. Nicholas now distributes show that he, too, has been
growing up with the country. The boys and girls of 1897 will laugh
when they hear of the contents of our stockings in 1823. There was a
little paper of candy, one of raisins, another, of nuts, a red apple, an
olie-koek, and a bright silver quarter of a dollar in the toe. If a child had
been guilty of any erratic performances during the year, which was
often my case, a long stick would protrude from the stocking; if
particularly good, an illustrated catechism or the New Testament would
appear, showing that the St. Nicholas of that time held decided views
on discipline and ethics.
During the day we would take a drive over the snow-clad hills and
valleys in a long red lumber sleigh. All the children it could hold made
the forests echo with their songs and laughter. The sleigh bells and
Peter's fine tenor voice added to the chorus seemed to chant, as we
passed, "Merry Christmas" to the farmers' children and to all we met on
the highway.