I inquire my way to that Pilgrim Hall. Here it is; and here, right in front, lies the precious fragment, surrounded by an iron fence, and marked in great black letters “1620.”
Now I am going into the hall to see the Pilgrim relics, some of which were brought over in “The Mayflower.”
On the wall of the ante-room hangs Lora Standish’s sampler, wrought in silks of divers colors, bright enough two hundred and fifty years ago, no doubt, though, alas! all faded now. Using again my dream eyes, I behold the fair young girl, intent on learning “marking-stitch,” bending over the canvas, counting the threads, winding bright silks; her cheeks as bright as they. Little thinks she how many shall come centuries after to view her work. Underneath the alphabet are stitched these lines, which with my real eyes I read:—
“Lora Standish is my name.
Lord, guide my hart, that I may doe thy will;
Also fill my hands with such convenient skill
As may conduce to virtue void of shame;
And I will give the glory to thy name.”
In this same ante-room I find the two famous old arm-chairs that came over in “The Mayflower,” one of which belonged to Elder Brewster, and the other to Gov. Carver.