“No, indeed. Maw she wouldn’t hardly let us look at them.” After gazing into the fire a moment, the child spoke again. “Being as we are fixing to use the spoons to-night, I thought maybe you might want to put on that pretty dress that matches them so good.”
“Why, of course,” smiled Miss Scarborough. She had brought with her to the school a simple dinner gown of soft, silvery satin, as lustrous and shining as her own hair, and seeing Emily’s delight in it, had put it into the “poke” on starting to Dosia’s.
“You can get over in yan corner to change,” said Emily. She came again in a few moments, and, after pinning a splendid pink dahlia in the lace on her cousin’s bosom, stood back with clasped hands and an ecstatic sigh.
At last supper was ready, and the guest was taken into “t’ other house” and seated at Dosia’s right. This room, too, was huge and bare, with a long table in the middle. On the table was a handsome hand-woven cloth, and, at the guest’s place, a napkin. A second napkin was spread over an oblong object beside Dosia’s plate.
When all were seated, Dosia reverently lifted this napkin, displaying a small leather case, the lid of which at a touch flew open, revealing a dozen teaspoons of thin old silver. Dosia then rose in her chair.
“Beloved offsprings and husband,” she began impressively, “we are gathered around this board to-night on a solemn occasion, not only to celebrate the coming of our honored kinswoman, but likewise to remember ourselves of past generations and dead-and-gone forefathers.
“You will one and all bear me witness, children, that never have I give you a chance to forget that you was Scarboroughs on your maw’s side, not casting no reflections on your paw’s, which is good as far as it goes. But many’s the time I have heared my paw relate, which he got from his paw, and so on back, that the Scarboroughs has been brave folk and faithful folk and gentle folk for five hundred year’, and has poured out their blood like water for the glory of Old England before they come over and poured it out for this present land. You have heared me tell all I know of their doings here—how your great-great-grandpaw fit under Washington, and had this land we now stand on, two thousand acre’ of it, granted him for his deeds; how his sons and grandsons kept right on fighting spang down through the century, Indians, and Mexicans, and then for the Union, dying mostly with their boots on, and before they was good grown; how, when there wa’n’t no more wars on the outside, they raised one here at home, for justice, and being few again’ many, died a-fighting, down to my little brother of fourteen. Never have I forebore to tingle your years with the braveness of our men and the honorableness of our women, and what you was bound to live up to.
“But little did I ever look to hear the history of them ’way-back forefathers of ours that flourished allus-ago in Old England. On which text Cousin Emily Scarborough is now raised up for to enlighten us. She knows ’em from lid to lid, and has writ me some of the marvelousest tales ever I heared, especially the antecedents of these here Scarborough spoons, which come down from a man that saved his king that was felled in battle five hundred year’ gone. These spoons, as you know, has been kindly sont us at this present time by another far-away relation in Old England. Him Cousin Emily speaks of as a’ earl, which entitlement I don’t rightly know the meaning of, but I take it to signify that he is a’ extry brave and God-fearing man, and one you would not be ashamed to claim kin with.
“I will now ax Cousin Emily Scarborough to rise and relate such glimpses of ancient history as she thinks befitting. Following which I will pour the coffee. Then I request all and singular—you too, Edwin, sence you may rightly be called a blood-relation—to rise in your chairs whilst I pass around the Scarborough spoons. And then, in solemn silence, I charge you to take, all together and simultaneous’, a sup of coffee with them spoons, being careful not to chaw down on them with your teeth, or so much as mumble them with your lips. Having done which, lay them back in your saucers and don’t touch another finger to them till Emily can gather and wash and restore them to their case. And my onliest regret is that our two boys Guilford and Lionel hain’t here to keep the feast, too.”
Miss Scarborough rose and related salient points in family history—the story of Guilford of Agincourt; of Austin, the bishop burned at the stake by Mary; of Lionel, the famous admiral of Elizabeth’s day; of later Scarboroughs great in war or peace.