and that was a great satisfaction, of course,” answered grandma,
placidly.
“Well, I think you were the bravest of the lot. I ‘d like to have seen
you flourishing round there with your hatchet,” added Tom,
admiringly, and the old lady looked as much pleased with the
compliment as if she had been a girl.
“I choose this,” said Polly, holding up a long white kid glove,
shrunken and yellow with time, but looking as if it had a history.
“Ah, that now has a story worth telling!” cried grandma; adding,
proudly, “Treat that old glove respectfully, my children, for
Lafayette’s honored hand has touched it.”
“Oh, grandma, did you wear it? Did you see him? Do tell us all
about it, and that will be the best of the whole,” cried Polly, who
loved history, and knew a good deal about the gallant Frenchman
and his brave life.
Grandma loved to tell this story, and always assumed her most
imposing air to do honor to her theme. Drawing herself up,
therefore, she folded her hands, and after two or three little
“hems,” began with an absent look, as if her eyes beheld a
far-away time, which brightened as she gazed.
“The first visit of Lafayette was before my time, of course, but I
heard so much about it from my grandfather that I really felt as if I
‘d seen it all. Our Aunt Hancock lived in the Governor’s house, on
Beacon Hill, at that time.” Here the old lady bridled up still more,
for she was very proud of “our aunt.” “Ah, my dears, those were
the good old times!” she continued, with a sigh. “Such dinners and
tea parties, such damask table cloths and fine plate, such solid,
handsome furniture and elegant carriages; aunt’s was lined with
red silk velvet, and when the coach was taken away from her at the
Governor’s death, she just ripped out the lining. and we girls had
spencers made of it. Dear heart, how well I remember playing in
aunt’s great garden, and chasing Jack up and down those winding
stairs; and my blessed father, in his plum-colored coat and knee
buckles, and the queue I used to tie up for him every day, handing
aunt in to dinner, looking so dignified and splendid.”
Grandma seemed to forget her story for a minute, and become a
little girl again, among the playmates dead and gone so many
years. Polly motioned the others to be quiet, and no one spoke till
the old lady, with a long sigh, came back to the present, and went
on.
“Well, as I was saying, the Governor wanted to give a breakfast to
the French officers, and Madam, who was a hospitable soul, got up
a splendid one for them. But by some mistake, or accident, it was
discovered at the last minute that there was no milk.
“A great deal was needed, and very little could be bought or
borrowed, so despair fell upon the cooks and maids, and the great
breakfast would have been a failure, if Madam, with the presence
of mind of her sex, had not suddenly bethought herself of the cows
feeding on the Common.
“To be sure, they belonged to her neighbors, and there was no time
to ask leave, but it was a national affair; our allies must be fed; and
feeling sure that her patriotic friends would gladly lay their cows
on the altar of their country, Madam Hancock covered herself with
glory, by calmly issuing the command, ‘Milk ’em!’ “It was done, to
the great astonishment of the cows, and the entire satisfaction of
the guests, among whom was Lafayette.
“This milking feat was such a good joke, that no one seems to have
remembered much about the great man, though one of his officers,
a count, signalized himself by getting very tipsy, and going to bed
with his boots and spurs on, which caused the destruction of aunt’s
best yellow damask coverlet, for the restless sleeper kicked it into
rags by morning.
“Aunt valued it very much, even in its tattered condition, and kept
it a long while, as a memorial of her distinguished guests.
“The time when I saw Lafayette was in 1825, and there were no