“I told him I would not have any thing.”
“And what did he say to you, dear?” asked her mother.
“Here comes old Mary to call us to tea,” said Judith, glad to dispose of the interrogatory in so propitious a manner.
Could you have seen Captain Stimpson at his well-furnished board, you would have been at no loss to account for his rotundity. Judith presided, with her father and mother on the side at her left hand, old grandsir Stimpson, in his arm-chair, at her right, and Mr. Solomon Tarbox, the foreman of the rope-walk, on the fourth side, opposite to her. A small, japanned tea-tray was placed before her, upon which were ranged the tea-cups of burnt china, about the size of egg-shells, with saucers to match, a silver sugar-dish and cream-pitcher, but little larger than those which would grace a child’s baby-house at the present day, and two shining black tea-pots, each holding about a pint, one filled with the best bohea and the other with boiling water.
A pewter tankard, filled with small-beer of Mrs. Stimpson’s own brewing, was placed at her husband’s right hand; it being a beverage of which he was fond, not being able to bring himself to like the new-fangled wishy-washy stuff called tea. Before grandsir was placed a small mug of peppermint-tea, which the old gentleman thought more healthful. A lobster in his scarlet suit occupied the centre of the table; flanked on one side by a parallelogram of smoked salmon, six inches by seven; on the other by a dish of cold baked beans. A plate of white bread and another of brown, half an oblate spheroid of butter, and a truncated cone of Dutch cheese found a place on the table; and to crown all, a dish of miracles, a kind of cake much in vogue in those days, and not differing materially from the crullers of New York, being the same, under a different name, with the Massachusetts dough-nuts of more modern date, excepting that the dough was formed into grotesque figures, displaying the fancy of the compounder to great advantage. In this article Judith particularly excelled, few possessing either her taste or fancy.
The old grandsir, in his white linen cap, pushed a little back from his furrowed brow, with clasped hands, and in a tremulous voice, asked a blessing; to which his son responded with an audible amen, followed by his usual h-m-gh. Judith commenced the operation of pouring out the tea, first ascertaining that her grandfather’s peppermint was to his taste, and being commended by him for having his little slip of salt fish broiled to a nicety; for notwithstanding the usual abundance of his son’s table, the good man always chose to have something prepared exclusively for himself. Judith handed the tea with a natural grace, equaling any elegance acquired at a modern boarding-school.
Her father, after seeing that all were well supplied with the good things on his table, took up his pewter tankard, and with a respectful nod to the old gentleman said, “Father, my sarvice to you; Miss Stimpson, my sarvice; sarvice, sarvice,” nodding to Judith and Mr. Tarbox; then applying the vessel to his lips, he took a long and apparently a very refreshing draught. Judith, though a beauty and a heroine, despised not the vulgar enjoyments of eating and drinking, but valued them as social pleasures.
After ample justice being done to the meal by all parties, Captain Stimpson and Mr. Tarbox went off to the rope-walk. Grandsir, removing his chair to a window, where the afternoon breeze blew in refreshingly, and placing his Bible, his favorite companion, on his knees, was soon in a gentle slumber; his head thrown back on his comfortable chair, and his hands folded on the pages of the sacred volume before him, opened at his favorite last of Revelations. Mrs. Stimpson, taking up her knitting-work, sat herself down by the side of the table, to superintend the clearing away of the tea-things. She followed Judith with her fond eyes, as the little maiden tripped lightly about in her neat, speckled apron, putting every thing in its place in the most housewifely manner, and directing old Mary in an affectionate and cheerful tone of voice.
She put away the tea-things in their accustomed places, in the little buffet with glass-doors, at the corner of the room, in which three mandarins of china were conspicuous, one on the middle projection of each shelf: then seating herself down at the window, she began to ply her needle in the embroidering of various figures in fine cat-gut to imitate lace; a kind of ladies’ work as much in vogue in those days as the worsted and crochet-work has been in our day.
Captain Stimpson soon joined them with his pipe, but their conversation was interrupted by a gentle rap at the tea-room door, and on the captain’s opening it, George Fayerweather appeared, with a lame excuse for so soon repeating his visit. He was cordially received by the captain, who invited him to sit down, which he immediately did, in such a manner as to occupy the whole width of a window in the front parlor, to which the family now all adjourned; grandsir rousing and going with them, as he loved to doze by the sound of his children’s voices. The evening being fairly set in, a light was brought by old Mary; but being placed in a little cupboard, the door of which was nearly closed, the rest of the room was left in obscurity.