"SUGARING DINNER"
WE enjoyed ourselves hugely until well after noon,
when we were so weary and sticky that it was a
positive relief to hear Mistress Winthrop propose that
we go back to her dwelling, and there what do you
think we found?
No less than twenty people from Boston, among
whom were Susan's mother and mine, had all come
out for what is called the "sugaring dinner."
Taster Cotton, the preacher, was with the company,
and he made a most beautiful prayer while we were
waiting for the meal to be served, after which the
spirit moved him to ask at great length, and in a most
[144] touching manner, that the food might be blessed to
each and every one of us.
One could never have believed that we who were
gathered around the table ever had known what it
was to be painfully
hungry during one
entire winter, for
there was sufficient
of food to have
served us, in the old
days, a full week.
There were two
enormous wild turkeys roasted to a
most delicious crispness, one placed at
either end of the
table, while the handsomest standing salt I ever saw
was exactly in the center, so that no one could say
whether he was seated above or below the salt.
There were also two huge venison pies, with the
pastry made wholly of wheat flour; and placed around
the pies in a most tasteful manner, were potted pigeons,
in small dishes. There were apple and pear tarts;
marmalade and preserved plums, grapes, barberries
and cherries, together with poppy and cherry water,
cordial and mint water.
[145] It was a most delicate feast, and my greatest regret
was that I had tasted so often of the maple sap I could
not do full justice to it. Tears actually stood in Susan's
eyes as she whispered to me after the dinner was come
to an end, and we were allowed to talk with each other,
"I shall never live long enough to cease being sorry
because I could not eat more."
It was the same as if she had confessed to the sin of
gluttony, and it was my duty to reprove her; but I
could not find it in my heart so to do, because of
much the same thought's being in my own mind.
We all sang psalms until near to seven o'clock in the
evening, when good Master Winthrop gave us a famous
ride on his new sled drawn by two oxen, and thus did
[146] we go home like really fashionable folk, who must
needs turn night into day, as my mother declared.
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