The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1889-04-07
EAST AND WEST
BY E EDWARD EVERETT HALE

me from my mothers"
The young people of a hundred years ago
certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.
Here were more than fifty gay couples,
each lad and each maid dressed. and well
dressed for winter; here were more than
fifty gay horses. or spans of horses. who en-
loyed the frolic as much as those who drove
them. Here was an innocent earth white
with innocent snow" and Overita heaven
OF unspOtted and unclouded blue. The
country rolls 2 little, just enough to vary
from second to second the simmer of the
bright sun on the sparkling frost. There
was forest enough, and not too much,
enough for the cheerful suggestion of life
and strength and shelter which invariably
belongs to the grave good-natured, hos
pitable evergreens, while through open
fields and with long afternoon shadows. the
merry party could scamper on. Sometimes
they shouted TO each other. Sometimes
one sleigh struck up a song, and the neigh
bOrs. before and behind, took it up, and in
q long, trailing fugue it ran on the voices of
Lady DelacOur called ~propinquity did its
perfect work, and the two partners said
aloud to each other what they need not
whisper, and talked of one or another tribe
or of one or another of the eternities.
More easily than they could have talked
were they looking into each others faces,
or were there any possibility of another
listener.
And so in an hour and q half of the live
IL III a NC III SdJ
young party, driving always north in. the
bright afternoon, came to the hill ON
which Ipswich stands, and, almost for the
first time, the drivers drew rein a little as
the horses walked up to Squire Beers'S
tavern. The sun was just setting in the
unclOuded west, and as one after another
of the ladies was almost lifted from the
sleigh by her cavalier, the party grouped
together TO watch the daily wonder us the
red ball sunk down behind the hills. For
a moment only. and then they all rushed
into the open halls of the great tavern. and
welcomed the preparations which had been
made for them.
No one had forgotten to send word to Mr..
Beers. Bellies might have been forgotten,
but not the entertainment for the evening.
A messenger had informed him the day be-
fore that a party of the gayest. and bright
est, and best of Salem would be there, and
half Ipswich had been at work to make the
proper preparation. There was a fire of
oak in every fireplace of every room. III
the hall there stood great pitchers of flip.
which only needed to be heated: and in the
great fireplace of the corner room, which
was a sort of room of entrance, were a
dozen pokers at white heat, waiting to be
used at the moment of arrival. As one
girl after another was led in by
or another of the tables on which
these great pitchers of sweetened cider,
perhaps with a little spirit, stood, and one
or another laughing attendant brought the
hC"cCU pOhCl dlu pluilgtu III ILL., M RlTl
thought that she did anything wrong as
she slipped from the hot cup which her at
tendant poured out for her. There would
be some joking abouta little ashes, more or
less, which stuck. perhaps, to her red nose,
or fingered on her lip: but it was a genera
tlon before the time when anyone would
have said to her that she was violating any
law, human or divine, as she refreshed her
self. After this welcome. the girls scat
tered to places where they were led by the
ready maidens of the tavern. and
threw off and piled up the wraps in
which they had been protected, appearing,
Ike SO many butterflies coming out of
their winter homes, in all the lightness of
muslin and its decorations, ready for the
dance In the great hall. At each end of the
hall was a fire of oak logs which had been
kept going since early morning, so that
there was not the slightest chill in the
room. The whole party was in tip-tOp
spirits. They were just cold enough to be
ready to dance to warm their feet. They
had breathed in ozone, or oxygen, or what
ever 1T is that gives life, till every nerve
jealousies with which they might have
started were forgotten, and they had and
knew they had before them hours upon
hours of undiluted exhilaration.
1t will not do, after a hundred years, to
try to explain to the decorous modern
reader how the partners were selected, OF
how they were changed after they were Sc
lected. Suffice 1t to say, that, by the gener-
Gus equality, of democracy which had
taken the place of the condescension of
ante-revolutionary times, the ladies drew
lots for the head of the dance. For certain
purposes connected with the dance, similar
lots were then drawn for the gentlemen.
and as everybody knew everybody. there
ment. But 1T soon appeared that, by pro-
cesses which need not be explained to the
reader. the right gentlemen and the right
lady danced with each other pretty
arbitrary decision of the lot
did not make any contretemps.
while it did make a good deal of good
natured fun. Thus, in point of fact, the
which would have put her well down the
line of dancers. But Ruth Crowinshield.
who drew No. l., came to Sarah at once. and
said that she hoped she would exchange
numbers with her-that she was herself a
little tired and cold. and would rather sit
10y, the fire for a few minutes, and not be
obliged to begin quite as soon as the others.
Our pretty Sarah was not unused to such
negotiations. she well appreciated the
courtesy by which Ruth recognized the
truth, that she would guide the set better
than a more inexperienced person would do,
and, after due courtesy on both sides.
the exchange was made. OF course.
number one fell upon a certain Mr.. Bell
amy. from the West Indies. about whom the
girls had been disposed to make a great deal
OF fun, as III he were stupid or awk-
ward. Accordingly. Mr.. Bethany took Miss
Sarah to the head of the dance, and the
other couples fell in almost Immediately.
All were n little curious to know what
dance the manager w~Ouldname. The mana
ger was, of course. Harry Curwen. He
named The Country Bumpkin." with dis
tfnct malice toward Mr.. Bellamy. For it
was supposed that the dance would be the
special favorite of a person of fine form
and graceful figure" and Harry Curwen
chose to imagine that Mr.. Bellamy had
neither, But it was clear at once. to all
men and angels. that Mr.. Bellamy must
have had certain advantages, either
in Philadelphia or Barbados or
London or somewhere, which had made
him quite the equal of any of the Salem
beaux in his various curvettIngs. If there
had boen any expectation of showing him
at a disadvantage. Mr.. Harry Curwen was
disappointed.
But it is no part of this little story to 20
into the ins and outs of the various dances
of that jolly afternoon. The twilight. of
course, fell almost at once. Mr.. Beers and
his assistants lighted one set of candles.
and the young people saw with satisfaction
that another set We're left unlighted for q
relay as the night should wear on. Dance
followed after dance, partner after partner
exchanged as the lots fell wrong, Harry
Curwen yielded the management
TO one and another friend who
had. or supposed he had. person
al purposes TO advance by this temporary
control. and by one exchange OF bit of good
fortune or another. il happened that Harry
and Sarah Paris danced together four or