It is not necessary for me to say much of the first fourteen
years of my life. They passed like the childhood and
youth of the sons of most gentlemen in our colony, at that
day, with this distinction, however. There was a class

[figure description] Page 024.[end figure description]

among us which educated its boys at home. This was not
a very numerous class, certainly, nor was it always the
highest in point of fortune and rank. Many of the large
proprietors were of Dutch origin, as a matter of course; and
these seldom, if ever, sent their children to England to be
taught anything, in my boyhood. I understand that a few
are getting over their ancient prejudices, in this particular,
and begin to fancy Oxford or Cambridge may be quite as
learned schools as that of Leyden; but, no Van, in my boyhood,
could have been made to believe this. Many of the
Dutch proprietors gave their children very little education,
in any way or form, though most of them imparted lessons
of probity that were quite as useful as learning, had the two
things been really inseparable. For my part, while I admit
there is a great deal of knowledge going up and down the
land, that is just of the degree to trick a fellow-creature out
of his rights, I shall never subscribe to the opinion, which
is so prevalent among the Dutch portion of our population,
and which holds the doctrine that the schools of the New
England provinces are the reason the descendants of the
Puritans do not enjoy the best of reputations, in this respect.
I believe a boy may be well taught, and made all the honester
for it; though, I admit, there may be, and is, such a thing
as training a lad in false notions, as well as training him
in those that are true. But, we had a class, principally of
English extraction, that educated its sons well; usually
sending them home, to the great English schools, and finishing
at the universities. These persons, however, lived principally
in town, or, having estates on the Hudson, passed
their winters there. To this class the Littlepages did not
belong; neither their habits nor their fortunes tempting them
to so high a flight. For myself, I was taught enough Latin
and Greek to enter college, by the Rev. Thomas Worden,
an English divine, who was rector of St. Jude's, the parish
to which our family properly belonged. This gentleman
was esteemed a good scholar, and was very popular among
the gentry of the county; attending all the dinners, clubs,
races, balls, and other diversions that were given by them,
within ten miles of his residence. His sermons were pithy
and short; and he always spoke of your half-hour preachers,
as illiterate prosers, who did not understand how to condense

[figure description] Page 025.[end figure description]

their thoughts. Twenty minutes were his gauge, though I
remember to have heard my father say, he had known him
preach all of twenty-two. When he compressed down to fourteen,
my grandfather invariably protested he was delightful.

I remained with Mr. Worden until I could translate the
two first æneids, and the whole of the Gospel of St. Matthew,
pretty readily; and then my father and grandfather,
the last in particular, for the old gentleman had a great idea
of learning, began to turn over in their minds, the subject of
the college to which I ought to be sent. We had the choice
of two, in both of which the learned languages and the
sciences are taught, to a degree, and in a perfection, that is
surprising for a new country. These colleges are Yale, at
New Haven, in Connecticut, and Nassau Hall, which was
then at Newark, New Jersey, after having been a short
time at Elizabethtown, but which has since been established
at Princeton. Mr. Worden laughed at both; said that neither
had as much learning as a second-rate English grammar-school;
and that a lower-form boy, at Eton or Westminster,
could take a master's degree at either, and pass for
a prodigy in the bargain. My father, who was born in the
colonies, and had a good deal of the right colony feeling,
was nettled at this, I remember; while my grandfather, being
old-country born, but colony educated, was at a loss how to
view the matter. The captain had a great respect for his
native land, and evidently considered it the paradise of this
earth, though his recollections of it were not very distinct;
but, at the same time, he loved Old York, and West Chester
in particular, where he had married and established himself
at Satan's Toe; or, as he spelt it, and as we all have spelt
it, now, this many a day, Satanstoe. I was present at the
conversation which decided the question, as regarded my
future education, and which took place in the common parlour,
around a blazing fire, about a week before Christmas,
the year I was fourteen. There were present Capt. Hugh
Roger, Major Evans, my mother, the Rev. Mr. Worden, and
an old gentleman of Dutch designation and extraction, of
the name of Abraham Van Valkenburgh, but who was familiarly
called, by his friends, 'Brom Follock, or Col. Follock
or Volleck, as the last happen to be more or less ceremonious,
or more or less Dutch. Follock, I think, however

[figure description] Page 026.[end figure description]

was the favourite pronunciation. This Col. Van Valkenburgh
was an old brother-soldier of my father's, and, indeed,
a relation, a sort of a cousin through my greatgrandmother,
besides being a man of much consideration and substance.
He lived in Rockland, just across the Hudson, but never
failed to pay a visit to Satanstoe at that season of the year.
On the present occasion, he was accompanied by his son
Dirck, who was my friend, and just a year my junior.

“Vell, den,”—the colonel commenced the discourse by
saying, as he tapped the ashes out of his pipe for the second
time that evening, having first taken a draught of hot flip,
a beverage much in vogue then, as well as now,—“vell,
den, Evans, vat is your intention as to ter poy? Vill he pe
college-l'arnt, like as his grant-fat'er, or only school-l'arnt,
like as his own fat'er?” The allusion to the grandfather
being a pleasantry of the colonel's, who insisted that all the
old-country born were “college-l'arnt” by instinct.

“To own the truth, 'Brom,” my father answered, “this
is a point that is not yet entirely settled, for there are different
opinions as to the place to which he shall be sent,
even admitting that he is to be sent at all.”

The colonel fastened his full, projecting, blue eyes on my
father, in a way that pretty plainly expressed surprise.

“Vat, den, is dere so many colleges, dat it is hart to
choose?” he said.

“There are but two that can be of any use to us, for
Cambridge is much too distant to think of sending the boy
so far. Cambridge was in our thoughts at one time, but
that is given up.”

“Vhere, den, ist Camprige?” demanded the Dutchman,
removing his pipe to ask so important a question, a ceremony
he usually thought unnecessary.

“It is a New England college—near Boston; not half a
day's journey distant, I fancy.”

“Don't sent Cornelius dere,” ejaculated the colonel, contriving
to get these words out alongside of the stem of the
pipe.

“You think not, Col. Follock,” put in the anxious mother;
“may I ask the reason for that opinion?”

“Too much Suntay, Matam Littlepage—the poy wilt be
sp'ilt by ter ministers. He will go away an honest lat, and

[figure description] Page 027.[end figure description]

come pack a rogue. He will l'arn how to bray and to
cheat.”

“Hoity toity! my noble colonel!” exclaimed the Rev.
Mr. Worden, affecting more resentment than he felt.
“Then you fancy the clergy, and too much Sunday, will
be apt to convert an honest youth into a knave!”

The colonel made no answer, continuing to smoke very
philosophically, though he took occasion, while he drew the
pipe out of his mouth, in one of its periodical removals, to
make a significant gesture with it towards the rising sun,
which all present understood to mean “down east,” as it is
usual to say, when we mean to designate the colonies of
New England. That he was understood by the Rev. Mr.
Worden, is highly probable; since that gentleman continued
to turn the flip of one vessel into another, by way of
more intimately blending the ingredients of the mixture,
quite as coolly as if there had been no reflection on his
trade.

“What do you think of Yale, friend 'Brom?” asked my
father, who understood the dumb-show as well as any of
them.

“No tifference, Evans; dey all breaches and brays too
much. Goot men have no neet of so much religion.
Vhen a man is really goot, religion only does him harm.
I mean Yankee religion.”

“I have another objection to Yale,” observed Capt. Hugh
Roger, “which is their English.”

“Och!” exclaimed the Colonel—“Deir English is horriple!
Wuss dan ast to us Tutch.”

“Well, I was not aware of that,” observed my father.
“They are English, sir, as well as ourselves, and why
should they not speak the language as well as we?”

“Why toes not a Yorkshireman, or a Cornishman, speak
as vell as a Lonnoner? I tell you what, Evans, I 'll pet the
pest game-cock on ter Neck, against the veriest tunghill the
parson hast, ter Presitent of Yale calls p e e n, pen, ant
r o o f, ruff—and so on.”

“My birds are all game,” put in the divine; “I keep no
other breed.”

“Surely, Mr. Worden, you do not countenance cock-fights
by your presence!” my mother said, using as much

[figure description] Page 028.[end figure description]

of reproach in her manner as comported with the holy office
of the party she addressed, and with her own gentle nature.
The Colonel winked at my father, and laughed through his
pipe, an exploit he might have been said to perform almost
hourly. My father smiled in return; for, to own the truth,
he had been present at such sports on one or two occasions,
when the parson's curiosity had tempted him to peep in
also; but my grandfather looked grave and much in earnest.
As for Mr. Worden himself, he met the imputation like a
man. To do him justice, if he were not an ascetic,
neither was he a whining hypocrite, as is the case with too
many of those who aspire to be disciples and ministers of
our blessed Lord.

“Why not, Madam Littlepage?” Mr. Worden stoutly
demanded. “There are worse places than cock-pits; for,
mark me, I never bet—no, not on a horse-race, even; and
that is an occasion on which any gentleman might venture
a few guineas, in a liberal, frank, way. There are so few
amusements for people of education in this country, Madam
Littlepage, that one is not to be too particular. If there
were hounds and hunting, now, as there are at home, you
should never hear of me at a cock-fight, I can assure you.”

“I must say I do not approve of cock-fights,” rejoined
my mother meekly; “and I hope Corny will never be
seen at one. No—never—never.”

“Dere you're wrong, Matam Littlepage,” the Colonel
remarked, “for ter sight of ter spirit of ter cocks wilt give
ter boy spirit himself. My Tirck, dere, goes to all in ter
neighbourhoot, and he is a game-cock himself, let me tell
you. Come, Tirck—come—cock-a-doodle-doo!”

This was true all round, as I very well knew, young as
I was. Dirck, who was as slow-moving, as dull-seeming,
and as anti-mercurial a boy to look at as one could find in
a thousand, was thorough game at the bottom, and he had
been at many a main, as he had told me himself. How
much of his spirit was derived from witnessing such scenes
I will not take on me to affirm; for, in these later times, I
have heard it questioned whether such exhibitions do really
improve the spectator's courage or not. But Dirck had
pluck, and plenty of it, and in that particular, at least, his
father was not mistaken. The Colonel's opinion always

[figure description] Page 029.[end figure description]

carried weight with my mother, both on account of his
Dutch extraction, and on account of his well-established
probity; for, to own the truth, a text or a sentiment from
him had far more weight with her than the same from the
clergyman. She was silenced on the subject of cock-fighting
for the moment, therefore, which gave Capt. Hugh
Roger further opportunity to pursue that of the English
language. The grandfather, who was an inveterate lover
of the sport, would have cut in to that branch of the discourse,
but he had a great tenderness for my mother, whom
everybody loved by the way, and he commanded himself,
glad to find that so important an interest had fallen into
hands as good as those of the Colonel. He would just
as soon be absent from church as be absent from a cock-fight,
and he was a very good observer of religion.

“I should have sent Evans to Yale, had it not been for
the miserable manner of speaking English they have in
New England,” resumed my grandfather; “and I had no
wish to have a son who might pass for a Cornish man. We
shall have to send this boy to Newark, in New Jersey. The
distance is not so great, and we shall be certain he will not
get any of your round-head notions of religion, too. Col.
'Brom, you Dutch are not altogether free from these distressing
follies.

“Debble a pit!” growled the Colonel, through his pipe;
for no devotee of liberalism and latitudinarianism in religion
could be more averse to extra-piety than he. The Colonel,
however, was not of the Dutch Reformed; he was an Episcopalian,
like ourselves, his mother having brought this
branch of the Follocks into the church; and, consequently,
he entered into all our feelings on the subject of religion,
heart and hand. Perhaps Mr. Worden was a greater favourite
with no member of the four parishes over which he presided,
than with Col. Abraham Van Valkenburgh.

“I should think less of sending Corny to Newark,”
added my mother, “was it not for crossing the water.”

“Crossing the water!” repeated Mr. Worden. “The
Newark we mean, Madam Littlepage, is not at home: the
Jersey of which we speak is the adjoining colony of that
name.”

“I am aware of that, Mr. Worden; but it is not possible

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

to get to Newark, without making that terrible voyage between
New York and Powles' Hook. No, sir, it is impossible;
and every time the child comes home, that risk will
have to be run. It would cause me many a sleepless
night!”

“He can go by Tobb's Ferry, Matam Littlepage,” quietly
observed the Colonel.

“Dobb's Ferry can be very little better than that by
Powles' Hook,” rejoined the tender mother. “A ferry is a
ferry; and the Hudson will be the Hudson, from Albany to
New York. So water is water.”

As these were all self-evident propositions, they produced
a pause in the discourse; for men do not deal with new ideas
as freely as they deal with the old.

“Dere is a way, Evans, as you and I know py experience,”
resumed the Colonel, winking again at my father,
“to go rount the Hudson altoget'er. To pe sure, it is a
long way, and a pit in the woots; but petter to untertake
dat, than to haf the poy lose his l'arnin'. Ter journey might
be made in two mont's, and he none the wuss for ter exercise.
Ter Major and I were never heartier dan when we
were operating on the he't waters of the Hutson. I will tell
Corny the roat.”

My mother saw that her apprehensions were laughed at,
and she had the good sense to be silent. The discussion
did not the less proceed, until it was decided, after an hour
more of weighing the pros and the cons, that I was to be
sent to Nassau Hall, Newark, New Jersey, and was to
move from that place with the college, whenever that event
might happen.

“You will send Dirck there, too,” my father added, as
soon as the affair in my case was finally determined. “It
would be a pity to separate the boys, after they have been
so long together, and have got to be so much used to each
other. Their characters are so identical, too, that they
are more like brothers than very distant relatives.”

“Dey will like one anot'er all de petter for pein' a little
tifferent, den,” answered the Colonel, drily.

Dirck and I were no more alike than a horse resembles
a mule.

“Ay, but Dirck is a lad who will do honour to an

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

education—he is solid and thoughtful, and learning will not be
thrown away on such a youth. Was he in England, that
sedate lad might get to be a bishop.”

“I want no pishops in my family, Major Evans; nor do
I want any great l'arnin'. None of us ever saw a college,
and we have got on fery vell. I am a colonel and a memper;
my fat'er was a colonel and a memper; and my grandfat'er
woult have peen a colonel and a memper, but dere
vast no colonels and no mempers in his time; though Tirck,
yonter can be a colonel and a memper, wit'out crosting dat
terriple ferry that frightens Matam Littlepage so much.”

There was usually a little humour in all Col. Follock said
and did, though it must be owned it was humour after a
very Dutch model; Dutch-built fun, as Mr. Worden used
to call it. Nevertheless, it was humour; and there was
enough of Holland in all the junior generations of the Littlepages
to enjoy it. My father understood him, and my
mother did not hear the last of the “terriple ferry” until
not only I, but the college itself, had quitted Newark; for
the institution made another remove to Princeton, the place
where it is now to be found, some time before I got my
degree.

“You have got on very well without a college education,
as all must admit, colonel,” answered Mr. Worden; “but
there is no telling how much better you would have got on,
had you been an A. M. You might, in the last case, have
been a general and a member of the King's council.”

“Dere ist no yeneral in ter colony, the commander-in-chief
and His Majesty's representatif excepted,” returned
the colonel. “We are no Yankees, to make yenerals of
ploughmen.”

Hereupon, the colonel and my father knocked the ashes
out of their pipes at the same instant, and both laughed,—
a merriment in which the parson, my grandfather, my dear
mother, and I myself joined. Even a negro boy, who was
about my own age, and whose name was Jacob, or Jaap,
but who was commonly called Yaap, grinned at the remark,
for he had a sovereign contempt for Yankee Land, and all
it contained; almost as sovereign a contempt as that which
Yankee Land entertained for York itself, and its Dutch
population. Dirck was the only person present who looked

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

grave; but Dirck was habitually as grave and sedate, as if
he had been born to become a burgomaster.

“Quite right, Brom,” cried my father; “colonels are
good enough for us; and when we do make a man that,
even, we are a little particular about his being respectable
and fit for the office. Nevertheless, learning will not hurt
Corny, and to college he shall go, let you do as you please
with Dirck. So that matter is settled, and no more need be
said about it.”

And it was settled, and to college I did go, and that by
the awful Powles' Hook Ferry, in the bargain. Near as we
lived to town, I paid my first visit to the island of Manhattan
the day my father and myself started for Newark. I
had an aunt, who lived in Queen Street, not a very great
distance from the fort, and she had kindly invited me and
my father to pass a day with her, on our way to New Jersey,
which invitation had been accepted. In my youth, the
world in general was not as much addicted to gadding about
as it is now getting to be, and neither my grandfather nor
my father ordinarily went to town, their calls to the legislature
excepted, more than twice a year. My mother's visits
were still less frequent, although Mrs. Legge, my aunt, was
her own sister. Mr. Legge was a lawyer of a good deal of
reputation, but he was inclined to be in the opposition, or
espoused the popular side in politics; and there could be no
great cordiality between one of that frame of mind and our
family. I remember we had not been in the house an hour,
before a warm discussion took place between my uncle and
my father, on the question of the right of the subject to canvass
the acts of the government. We had left home immediately
after an early breakfast, in order to reach town before
dark; but a long detention at the Harlem Ferry, compelled
us to dine in that village, and it was quite night before
we stopped in Queen Street. My aunt ordered supper
early, in order that we might get early to bed, to recover
from our fatigue, and be ready for sight-seeing next day.
We sat down to supper, therefore, in less than an hour after
our arrival; and it was while we were at table that the discussion
I have mentioned took place. It would seem that a
party had been got up in town among the disloyal, and I
might almost say, the disaffected, which claimed for the

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

subject the right to know in what manner every shilling of
the money raised by taxation was expended. This very
obviously improper interference with matters that did not
belong to them, on the part of the ruled, was resisted by the
rulers, and that with energy; inasmuch as such inquiries
and investigations would naturally lead to results that might
bring authority into discredit, make the governed presuming
and prying in their dispositions, and cause much derangement
and inconvenience to the regular and salutary action
of government. My father took the negative of the proposition,
while my uncle maintained its affirmative. I well
remember that my poor aunt looked uneasy, and tried to
divert the discourse by exciting our curiosity on a new
subject.

“Corny has been particularly lucky in having come to
town just as he has, since we shall have a sort of gala-day,
to-morrow, for the blacks and the children.”

I was not in the least offended at being thus associated
with the negroes, for they mingled in most of the amusements
of us young people; but I did not quite so well like to
be ranked with the children, now I was fourteen, and on my
way to college. Notwithstanding this, I did not fail to betray
an interest in what was to come next, by my countenance.
As for my father, he did not hesitate about asking
an explanation.

“The news came in this morning, by a fast-sailing sloop,
that the Patroon of Albany is on his way to New York, in
his coach-and-four, and with two out-riders, and that he may
be expected to reach town in the course of to-morrow.
Several of my acquaintances have consented to let their
children go out a little way into the country, to see him
come in; and, as for the blacks, you know, it is just as well
to give them permission to be of the party, as half of them
would otherwise go without asking it.”

“This will be a capital opportunity to let Corny see a
little of the world,” cried my father, “and I would not have
him miss it on any account. Besides, it is useful to teach
young people early, the profitable lesson of honouring their
superiors and seniors.”

“In that sense it may do,” growled my uncle, who,
though so much of a latitudinarian in his political opinions,

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

never failed to inculcate all useful and necessary maxims
for private life; “the Patroon of Albany being one of the
most respectable and affluent of all our gentry. I have no
objections to Corny's going to see that sight; and, I hope,
my dear, you will let both Pompey and Cæsar be of the
party. It won't hurt the fellows to see the manner in which
the Patroon has his carriage kept and horses groomed.”

Pompey and Cæsar were of the party, though the latter
did not join us until Pompey had taken me all round the
town, to see the principal sights; it being understood that
the Patroon had slept at Kingsbridge, and would not be
likely to reach town until near noon. New York was certainly
not the place, in 1751, it is to-day; nevertheless, it
was a large and important town, even when I went to college,
containing not less than twelve thousand souls, blacks
included. The Town Hall is a magnificent structure, standing
at the head of Broad Street; and thither Pompey led me,
even before my aunt had come down to breakfast. I could
scarcely admire that fine edifice sufficiently; which, for size,
architecture and position, has scarcely now an equal in all
the colonies. It is true, that the town has much improved,
within the last twenty years; but York was a noble place,
even in the middle of this century! After breakfast, Pompey
and I proceeded up Broadway, commencing near the
fort, at the Bowling Green, and walking some distance beyond
the head of Wall Street, or quite a quarter of a mile.
Nor did the town stop here; though its principal extent is,
or was then, along the margin of the East River. Trinity
Church I could hardly admire enough either; for, it appeared
to me, that it was large enough to contain all the church-people
in the colony.[3] It was a venerable structure, which

[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

had then felt the heats of summer and the snows of winter
on its roofs and walls, near half a century, and it still stands
a monument of pious zeal and cultivated taste. There were
other churches, belonging to other denominations, of course,
that were well worthy of being seen; to say nothing of the
markets. I thought I never should tire of gazing at the magnificence
of the shops, particularly the silversmiths'; some
of which must have had a thousand dollars' worth of plate
in their windows, or otherwise in sight. I might say as
much of the other shops, too, which attracted a just portion
of my admiration.

About eleven, the number of children and blacks that
were seen walking towards the Bowery Road, gave us notice
that it was time to be moving in that direction. We were
in the upper part of Broadway, at the time, and Pompey
proceeded forthwith to fall into the current, making all the
haste he could, as it was thought the traveller might pass
down towards the East River, and get into Queen Street,
before we could reach the point at which he would diverge.
It is true, the old town residence of Stephen de Lancey,
which stood at the head of Broadway, just above Trinity,[4]
had been converted into a tavern, and we did not know but
the Patroon might choose to alight there, as it was then the
principal inn of the town; still, most people preferred
Queen Street; and the new City Tavern was so much out
of the way, that strangers in particular were not fond of
frequenting it. Cæsar came up, much out of breath, just
as we got into the country.

Quitting Broadway, we went along the country road
that then diverged to the east, but which is now getting to
contain a sort of suburb, and passing the road that leads

[figure description] Page 036.[end figure description]

into Queen Street, we felt more certain of meeting the traveller,
whose carriage we soon learned had not gone by. As
there were and are several taverns for country people in
this quarter, most of us went quite into the country, proceeding
as far as the villas of the Bayards, de Lanceys,
and other persons of mark; of which there are several
along the Bowery Road. Our party stopped under some
cherry-trees, that were not more than a mile from town,
nearly opposite to Lt. Gov. de Lancey's country-house;[5]
but many boys &c. went a long long way into the country,
finishing the day by nutting and gathering apples in the
grounds of Petersfield and Rosehill, the country residences
of the Stuyvesant and Watt, or, as the last is now called
the Watts, families. I was desirous of going thus far myself,
for I had heard much of both of those grand places;
but Pompey told me it would be necessary to be back for
dinner by half-past one, his mistress having consented to
postpone the hour a little, in order to indulge my natural
desire to see all I could while in town.

We were not altogether children and blacks who were
out on the Bowery Road that day,—many tradesmen were
among us, the leathern aprons making a goodly parade on
the occasion. I saw one or two persons wearing swords, hovering
round, in the lanes and in the woods,—proof that even
gentlemen had some desire to see so great a person as the Patroon
of Albany pass. I shall not stop to say much of the
transit of the Patroon. He came by about noon, as was expected,
and in his coach-and-four, with two outriders, coachman,
&c. in liveries, as is usual in the families of the gentry,
and with a team of heavy, black, Dutch-looking horses,
that I remember Cæsar pronounced to be of the true Flemish
breed. The Patroon himself was a sightly, well-dressed
gentleman, wearing a scarlet coat, flowing wig, and cocked
hat; and I observed that the handle of his sword was
of solid silver. But my father wore a sword with a solid
silver handle, too, a present from my grandfather when the
former first entered the army.† He bowed to the salutations

[figure description] Page 037.[end figure description]

he received in passing, and I thought all the spectators were
pleased with the noble sight of seeing such an equipage pass
into the town. Such a sight does not occur every day in
the colonies, and I felt exceedingly happy that it had been
my privilege to witness it.

A little incident occurred to myself that rendered this
day long memorable to me. Among the spectators assembled
along the road on this occasion, were several groups
of girls, who belonged to the better class, and who had been
induced to come out into the country, either led by curiosity
or by the management of the different sable nurses who had
them in charge. In one of these groups was a girl of
about ten, or possibly of eleven years of age, whose dress,
air, and mien, early attracted my attention. I thought her
large, bright, full, blue eye, particularly winning; and boys
of fourteen are not altogether insensible to beauty in the
other sex, though they are possibly induced oftener to regard
it in those who are older than in those who are younger
than themselves. Pompey happened to be acquainted with
Silvy, the negress who had the care of my little beauty, to
whom he bowed, and addressed as Miss Anneke (Anna Cornelia,
abbreviated). Anneke I thought a very pretty name
too, and some little advances were made towards an acquaintance
by means of an offering of some fruit that I had
gathered by the way-side. Things were making a con

[figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

siderable progress, and I had asked several questions, such
as whether `Miss Anneke had ever seen a patroon,' which
`was the greatest personage, a patroon or a governor,'
whether `a nobleman who had lately been in the colony, as
a military officer, or the patroon, would be likely to have
the finest coach,' when a butcher's boy, who was passing,
rudely knocked an apple out of Anneke's hand, and caused
her to shed a tear.

I took fire at this unprovoked outrage, and lent the fellow
a dig in the ribs that gave him to understand the young
lady had a protector. My chap was about my own age
and weight, and he surveyed me a minute with a species of
contempt, and then beckoned me to follow him into an
orchard that was hard by, but a little out of sight. In spite
of Anneke's entreaties I went, and Pompey and Cæsar followed.
We had both stripped before the negroes got up,
for they were in a hot discussion whether I was to be permitted
to fight or not. Pompey maintained it would keep
dinner waiting; but Cæsar, who had the most bottom, as
became his name, insisted, as I had given a blow, I was
bound to render satisfaction. Luckily, Mr. Worden was
very skilful at boxing, and he had given both Dirck and
myself many lessons, so that I soon found myself the best
fellow. I gave the butcher's boy a bloody nose and a black
eye, when he gave in, and I came off victor; not, however,
without a facer or two, that sent me to college with a reputation
I hardly merited, or that of a regular pugilist.

When I returned to the road, after this breathing, Anneke[6]
had disappeared, and I was so shy and silly as not to ask
her family name from Cæsar the Great, or Pompey the
Little.

CHAPTER III.

“Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Has
he any unbraided wares?”
“Pr'ythee, bring him in; and let him approach singing.”

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

I have no intention of taking the reader with me through
college, where I remained the usual term of four years.
These four years were not idled away, as sometimes happens,
but were fairly improved. I read all of the New Testament,
in Greek; several of Cicero's Orations; every line of
Horace, Satires and Odes; four books of the Iliad; Tully
de Oratore, throughout; besides paying proper attention to
geography, mathematics, and other of the usual branches.
Moral philosophy, in particular, was closely attended to,
senior year, as well as Astronomy. We had a telescope
that showed us all four of Jupiter's moons. In other respects,
Nassau might be called the seat of learning. One
of our class purchased a second-hand copy of Euripides, in
town, and we had it in college all of six months; though it
was never my good fortune to see it, as the young man who
owned it, was not much disposed to let profane eyes view
his treasure. Nevertheless, I am certain the copy of the
work was in college; and we took good care to let the Yale
men hear of it more than once. I do not believe they ever
saw even the outside of an Euripides. As for the telescope,
I can testify of my own knowledge; having seen the moons
of Jupiter as often as ten times, with my own eyes, aided
by its magnifiers. We had a tutor who was expert among
the stars, and who, it was generally believed, would have
been able to see the ring of Saturn, could he have found the
planet; which, as it turned out, he was unable to do.

My four college years were very happy years. The vacations
came often, and I went home invariably; passing a
day or two with my aunt Legge, in going or coming. The
acquisition of knowledge was always agreeable to me; and
I may say it without vanity, I trust, at this time of life, I
got the third honour of my class. We should have

[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

graduated four, but one of our class was compelled to quit us at
the end of junior year, on account of his health. He was
an unusually hard student, and it was generally admitted
that he would have taken the first honour had he remained.
We were thought to acquit ourselves with credit at the commencement;
although I afterwards heard my grandfather
tell Mr. Worden, that he was of opinion the addresses would
have been more masculine and commendable, had less been
said of the surprising growth, prosperity, and power of the
colonies. He had no objection to the encouragement of a
sound, healthful, patriotic feeling; but to him it appeared
that something more novel might have better pleased the
audience. This may have been true, as all three of us had
something to say on the subject; and it is a proof how much
we thought alike, that our language was almost as closely
assimilated as our ideas.

As for the Powles Hook Ferry, it was an unpleasant place
I will allow; though by the time I was junior I thought
nothing of it. My mother, however, was glad when it was
passed for the last time. I remember the very first words
that escaped her, after she had kissed me on my final return
from college, were, “Well, Heaven be praised, Corny!
you will never again have any occasion to cross that frightful
ferry, now college is completely done with!” My
poor mother little knew how much greater dangers I was
subsequently called on to encounter, in another direction.
Nor was she minutely accurate in her anticipations, since I
have crossed the ferry in question, several times in later life;
the distances not appearing to be as great, of late years, as
they certainly seemed to be in my youth.

It was a feather in a young man's cap to have gone through
college, in 1755, which was the year I graduated. It is true,
the University men, who had been home for their learning,
were more or less numerous; but they were of a class that
held itself aloof from the smaller gentry, and most of them
were soon placed in office, adding the dignity of public trusts
to their acquisitions—the former in a manner overshadowing
the latter. But, I was nearer to the body of the community,
and my position admitted more of comparative excellence,
as it might be. No one thinks of certain habits, opinions,
manners, and tastes, in the circle where they are expected

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

to be found; but, it is a different thing where all, or any of
these peculiarities form the exception. I am afraid more
was anticipated from my college education than has ever
been realized; but I will say this for my Alma Mater, that
I am not conscious my acquisitions at college have ever been
of any disadvantage to me; and I rather think they have,
in some degree at least, contributed to the little success that
has attended my humble career.

I kept up my intimacy with Dirck Follock, during the
whole time I remained at college. He continued the classics
with Mr. Worden, for two years after I left the school; but
I could not discover that his progress amounted to anything
worth mentioning. The master used to tell the Colonel,
that “Dirck's progress was slow and sure;” and this did
not fail to satisfy a man who had a constitutional aversion
to much of the head-over-heels rate of doing things among
the English population. Col. Follock, as we always called
him, except when my father or grandfather asked him to
drink a glass of wine, or drank his health in the first glass
after the cloth was removed, when he was invariably styled
Col. Van Valkenburgh, at full length; but Col. Follock was
quite content that his son and heir should know no more
than he knew himself, after making proper allowances for
the difference in years and experience. By the time I returned
home, however, a material change had been made
in the school. Mr. Worden fell heir to a moderate competency
at home, and he gave up teaching, a business he had
never liked, accordingly. It was even thought he was a
shade less zealous in his parochial duties, after the acquisition
of this fifty pounds sterling a-year, than he had previously
been; though I am far from insisting on the fact's
being so. At any rate, it was not in the power of £50 per
annum to render Mr. Worden apathetic on the subject of the
church; for he continued a most zealous churchman down
to the hour of his death; and this was something, even admitting
that he was not quite so zealous as a Christian.
The church being the repository of the faith, if not the faith
itself, it follows that its friends are akin to religion, though
not absolutely religious. I have always liked a man the
better for being what I call a sound, warm-hearted churchman,
though his habits may have been a little free.

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

It was necessary to supply the place left vacant by the
emigration of Mr. Worden, or to abandon a school that had
got to be the nucleus of knowledge in Westchester. There
was a natural desire, at first, to obtain another scholar from
home; but no such person offering, a Yale College graduate
was accepted, though not without sundry rebellions, and
plenty of distrust. The moment he appeared, Col. Follock,
and Major Nicholas Oothout, another respectable Dutch
neighbour, withdrew their sons; and from that hour Dirck
never went to school again. It is true, Westchester was
not properly a Dutch county, like Rockland, and Albany,
and Orange, and several others along the river; but it had
many respectable families in it, of that extraction, without
alluding to such heavy people as the Van Cortlands, Felipses,
Beekmans, and two or three others of that stamp. Most of
our important county families had a different origin, as in
the case of the Morrises, of Morrisania, and of the Manor of
Fordham, the Pells, of Pelham, the Heathcotes, of Mamanneck,
the branch of the de Lanceys, at West Farms, the
Jays, of Rye, &c., &c. All these came of the English, or
the Huguenot stock. Among these last, more or less Dutch
blood was to be found, however; though Dutch prejudices
were a good deal weakened. Although few of these persons
sent their boys to this school, they were consulted in the
selection of a master; and I have always supposed that
their indifference was the cause that the county finally obtained
the services of a Yankee, from Yale.

The name of the new pedagogue was Jason Newcome,
or, as he pronounced the latter appellation himself, Noocome.
As he affected a pedantic way of pronouncing the
last syllable long, or as it was spelt, he rather called himself
Noo-comb, instead of Newcùm, as is the English mode,
whence he soon got the nick-name of Jason Old Comb
among the boys; the lank, orderly arrangement of his jetblack,
and somewhat greasy-looking locks, contributing
their share towards procuring for him the sobriquet, as I
believe the French call it. As this Mr. Newcome will have
a material part to play in the succeeding portions of this
narrative, it may be well to be a little more minute in his
description.

I found Jason fully established in the school, on my

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

return from college. I remember we met very much like
two strange birds, that see each other for the first time on
the same dunghill; or two quardrupeds, in their original interview
in a common herd. It was New Haven against
Newark; though the institution, after making as many migrations
as the House of Loretto, finally settled down at
Princeton, a short time before I took my degree. I was
consequently entitled to call myself a graduate of Newark,—
a sort of scholar that is quite as great a curiosity in the country
as a Queen Anne's farthing, or a book printed in the fifteenth
century. I remember the first evening we two spent in
company, as well as if the meeting occurred only last night.
It was at Satanstoe, and Mr. Worden was present. Jason
had a liberal supply of puritanical notions, which were bred
in-and-in in his moral, and I had almost said, in his physical
system; nevertheless, he could unbend; and I did not fail
to observe that very evening, a gleam of covert enjoyment
on his sombre countenance, as the hot-stuff, the cards, and
the pipes were produced, an hour or two before supper,—a
meal we always had hot and comfortable. This covert
satisfaction, however, was not exhibited without certain
misgiving looks, as if the neophyte in these innocent enjoyments
distrusted his right to possess his share. I remember
in particular, when my mother laid two or three
new, clean packs of cards on the table, that Jason cast a
stealthy glance over his shoulder, as if to make certain that
the act was not noted by the minister, or the “neighbours.”
The neighbours! — what a contemptible being a man becomes,
who lives in constant dread of the comments and
judgments of these social supervisors! and what a wretch,
the habit of deferring to no principle better than their decision
has made many a being, who has had originally the
materials of something better in him, than has been developed
by the surveillance of ignorance, envy, vulgarity,
gossiping and lying! In those cases in which education,
social position, opportunities and experience have made any
material difference between the parties, the man who yields
to such a government, exhibits the picture of a giant held
in bondage by a pigmy. I have always remarked, too, that
they who are best qualified to sit in this neighbourhoodtribunal,
generally keep most aloof from it, as repugnant to

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

their tastes and habits, thus leaving its decisions to the portion
of the community least qualified to make such as are
either just or enlightened.

I felt a disposition to laugh outright, at the manner in
which Jason betrayed a sneaking consciousness of crime,
as he saw my meek, innocent, simple-minded, just and
warm-hearted mother lay the cards on the table that evening.
His sense of guilt was purely conventional, while
my mother's sense of innocence existed in the absence of
false instruction, and in the purity of her intentions. One
had been taught no exaggerated and false notion of sin,—
nay, a notion that is impious, as it is clearly impious in
man to torture acts that are perfectly innocent, per se, into
formal transgressions of the law of God,—while the other had
been educated under the narrow and exaggerated notions
of a provincial sect, and had obtained a species of conscience
that was purely dependent on his miserable schooling.
I heard my grandfather say that Jason actually showed
the white of his eyes the first time he saw Mr. Worden
begin to deal, and he still looked, the whole time we were
at whist, as if he expected some one might enter, and tell
of his delinquency. I soon discovered that Jason had
a much greater dread of being told of, than of doing such
things as taking a hand at whist, or drinking a glass of
punch, from which I inferred his true conscience drew perceptible
distinctions between the acts and the penalties he
had been accustomed to see inflicted on them. He was
much disposed to a certain sort of frailty; but it was a
sneaking disposition to the last.

But, the amusing part of the exhibition, that first evening
of our acquaintance, was Mr. Worden's showing off his
successor's familiarity with the classics. Jason had not the
smallest notion of quantity; and he pronounced the Latin
very much as one would read Mohawk, from a vocabulary
made out by a hunter, or a savant of the French Academy.
As I had received the benefit of Mr. Worden's own instruction,
I could do better, and, generally, my knowledge of the
classics went beyond that of Jason's. The latter's English,
too, was long a source of amusement with us all, though my
grandfather often expressed strong disgust at it. Even Col.
Follock did not scruple to laugh at Newcome's English,

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

which, as he frequently took occasion to say, “hat a ferry
remarkaple sount to it.” As this peculiarity of Jason's extended
a good way into the Anglo-Saxon race, in the part
of the country in which he was born, it may be well to
explain what I mean a little more at large.

Jason was the son of an ordinary Connecticut farmer, of
the usual associations, and with no other pretension to education
than such as was obtained in a common school, or any
reading which did not include the Scriptures, some half-dozen
volumes of sermons and polemical works, all the
latter of which were vigorously as well as narrowly one-sided,
and a few books that had been expressly written to praise
New England, and to undervalue all the rest of the earth.
As the family knew nothing of the world beyond the limits
of its own township, and an occasional visit to Hartford, on
what is called “election-day,” Jason's early life was necessarily
of the most contracted experience. His English, as
a matter of course, was just that of his neighbourhood and
class of life; which was far from being either very elegant
or very Doric. But on this rustic, provincial, or rather,
hamlet foundation, Jason had reared a superstructure of
New Haven finish and proportions. As he kept school
before he went to college, while he was in college, and after
he left college, the whole energies of his nature became
strangely directed to just such reforms of language as would
be apt to strike the imagination of a pedagogue of his calibre.
In the first place, he had brought from home with
him a great number of sounds that were decidedly vulgar
and vicious, and with these in full existence in himself, he
had commenced his system of reform on other people. As
is common with all tyros, he fancied a very little knowledge
sufficient authority for very great theories. His first step
was to improve the language, by adapting sound to spelling;
and he insisted on calling angel, an-gel, because a-n spelt
an; chamber, cham-ber, for the same reason; and so on
through a long catalogue of similarly constructed words.
“English,” he did not pronounce as “Inglish,” but as “Eng
lish,” for instance; and “nothing” (anglicè nuthing), as
noth-ing; or, perhaps, it were better to say “nawthin'.”
While Jason showed himself so much of a purist with these
and many other words, he was guilty of some of the grossest

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

possible mistakes, that were directly in opposition to his own
theory. Thus, while he affectedly pronounced “none,”
(nun,) as “known,” he did not scruple to call “stone,”
“stun,” and “home,” “hum.” The idea of pronouncing
“clerk,” as it should be, or “clark,” greatly shocked him,
as it did to call “hearth,” “h'arth;” though he did not hesitate
to call this good earth of ours, the “'arth.” “Been,” he
pronounced “ben,” of course, and “roof,” he called “ruff,”
in spite of all his purism.

From the foregoing specimens, half a dozen among a
thousand, the reader will get an accurate notion of this
weakness in Jason's character. It was heightened by the
fact that the young man commenced his education, such as
it was, late in life, and it is rare indeed that either knowledge
or tastes thus acquired are entirely free from exaggeration.
Though Jason was several years my senior, like
myself he was a recent graduate, and it will be easy
enough to imagine the numberless discussions that took
place between us, on the subject of our respective acquisitions.
I say `respective,' instead of mutual acquisitions,
because there was nothing mutual about it, or them. Neither
our classics, our philosophy, nor our mathematics would
seem to have been the same, but each man apparently had
a science, or a language of his own, and which had been
derived from the institution where he had been taught. In
the classics I was much the strongest, particularly in the
quantities, but Jason had the best of it in mathematics. In
spite of his conceit, his vulgarity, his English, his provincialism,
and the awkwardness with which he wore his tardily
acquired information, this man had strong points about
him, and a native shrewdness that would have told much
more in his favour had it not been accompanied by a certain
evasive manner, that caused one constantly to suspect
his sincerity, and which often induced those who were accustomed
to him, to imagine he had a sneaking propensity
that rendered him habitually hypocritical. Jason held New
York in great contempt; a feeling he was not always disposed
to conceal, and of necessity his comparisons were
usually made with the state of things in Connecticut, and
much to the advantage of the latter. To one thing, however,
he was much disposed to defer, and that was money.

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

Connecticut had not then, nor has it now, a single individual
who would be termed rich in New York; and Jason,
spite of his provincial conceit, spite of his overweening notions
of moral and intellectual superiority, could no more
prevent this profound deference for wealth, than he could
substitute for a childhood of vulgarity and neglect, the grace,
refinement and knowledge which the boys of the more fortunate
classes in life obtain as it might be without knowing
it. Yes, Jason bowed down to the golden calf, in spite of
his puritanism, his love of liberty, his pretension to equality
and the general strut of his disposition and manner.

Such is an outline of the character and qualifications of the
man whom I found, on my return from college, at the head
of Mr. Worden's school. We soon became acquainted, and
I do not know which got the most ideas from the other, in
course of the first fortnight. Our conversation and arguments
were free, almost to rudeness, and little mercy was
shown to our respective prejudices. Jason was ultra leveling
in his notions of social intercourse, while I had the
opinions of my own colony, in which the distinctions of
classes are far more strongly marked than is usual in New
England, out of Boston, and its immediate association. Still
Jason deferred to names, as well as money, though it was
in a way very different from my own. New England was,
and is, loyal to the crown; but having the right to name
many of its own governors, and possessing many other
political privileges through the charters that were granted to
her people, in order to induce them to settle that portion of
the continent, they do not always manifest the feeling in a
way to be agreeable to those who have a proper reverence
for the crown. Among other points, growing out of this
difference in training, Jason and I had sundry arguments on
the subject of professions, trades and callings. It was evident
he fancied the occupation of a schoolmaster next in
honour to that of a clergyman. The clergy formed a species
of aristocracy, according to his notions; but no man
could commence life under more favourable auspices, than
by taking a school. The following dialogue occurred between
us, on this subject; and I was so much struck with
the novelty of my companion's notions, as to make a note of
it, as soon as we parted.

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

“I wonder your folks don't think of giving you suthin'
to do, Corny,” commenced Jason, one day, after our acquaintance
had ripened into a sort of belligerent intimacy.
“You 're near nineteen, now, and ought to begin to think
of bringing suthin' in, to pay for all the outgoin's.”

By “your folks,” Jason meant the family of Littlepage;
and the blood of that family quickened a little within me,
at the idea of being profitably employed, in the manner intimated,
because I had reached the mature and profitable
age of nineteen.

“I do not understand you exactly, Mr. Newcome, by
your bringing something in,” answered I, with dignity
enough to put a man of ordinary delicacy on his guard.

“Bringing suthin' in is good English, I hope, Mr. Littlepage.
I mean that your edication has cost your folks
enough to warrant them in calling on you for a little interest.
How much do you suppose, now, has been spent on
your edication, beginning at the time you first went to Mr.
Worden, and leaving off the day you quitted Newark?”

“Really, I have not the smallest notion; the subject has
never crossed my mind.”

“Did the old folks never say anything to you about it?—
never foot up the total?”

“I am sure it is not easy to see how this could be done,
for I could not help them in the least.”

“But your father's books would tell that, as doubtless it
all stands charged against you.”

“Stands charged against me!—How, sir! do you imagine
my father makes a charge in a book against me, whenever
he pays a few pounds for my education?”

“Certainly; how else could he tell how much you have
had?—though, on reflection, as you are an only child, it
does not make so much difference. You probably will get
all, in the end.”

“And had I a brother, or a sister, do you imagine, Mr.
Newcome, each shilling we spent would be set down in a
book, as charges against us?”

“How else, in natur', could it be known which had had
the most, or any sort of justice be done between you?”

“Justice would be done, by our common father's giving
to each just as much of his own money as he might see fit.

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

What is it to me, if he chose to give my brother a few hundred
pounds more than he chose to give to me? The money
is his, and he may do with it as he choose.”

“An hundred pounds is an awful sight of money!” exclaimed
Jason, betraying by his countenance how deeply he
felt the truth of this. “If you have had money in such
large sums, so much the more reason why you should set
about doing suthin' to repay the old gentleman. Why not
set up a school?”

“Sir!”

“Why not set up a school, I say? You might have had
this of mine, had you been a little older; but once in, fast
in, with me. Still, schools are wanted, and you might get
a tolerable good recommend. I dare say your tutor would
furnish a certificate.”

This word “recommend” was used by Jason for “recommendation;”
the habit of putting verbs in the places of substantives,
and vice versa, being much in vogue with him.

“And do you really think that one who is destined to
inherit Satanstoe, would act advisedly to set up a school?
Recollect, Mr. Newcome, that my father and grandfather
have both borne the king's commission; and that the last
bears it, at this very moment, through his representative, the
Governor.”

“What of all that? What better business is there than
keeping a good school? If you are high in your notions,
get to be made a tutor in that New Jersey college. Recollect
that a tutor in a college is somebody. I did hope for
such a place, but having a Governor's son against me, as a
candidate, there was no chance.”

“A Governor's son a candidate for a tutorship in a college!
You are pleased to trifle with me, Mr. Newcome.”

“It's true as the gospel. You thought some smaller fish
put me down, but he was the son of the Governor. But,
why do you give that vulgar name to your father's farm—
Satanstoe is not decent; yet, Corny, I've heard you use
it before your own mother!”

“That you may hear every day, and my mother use it,
too, before her own son. What fault do you find with the
name of Satanstoe?”

“Fault!—In the first place it is irreligious and profane;

[figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

then it is ungenteel and vulgar, and only fit to be used in
low company. Moreover, it is opposed to history and
revelation, the Evil One having a huff, if you will, but no
toes. Such a name couldn't stand a fortnight before public
opinion in New England.”

“Yes, that may be very true; but we do not care
enough for His Satanic Majesty in the colony of New York,
to treat him with so much deference. As for the `huffs,'
as you call them—”

“Why, what do you call 'em, Mr. Littlepage?”

“Hoofs, Mr. Newcome; that is the New York pronunciation
of the word.”

“I care nothing for York pronunciation, which everybody
knows is Dutch and full of corruptions. You 'll never
do anything worth speaking of in this colony, Corny, until
you pay more attention to your schools.”

“I do not know what you call attention, Mr. Jason, unless
we have paid it already. Here, I have the caption, or
rather preamble of a law, on that very subject, that I copied
out of the statute-book on purpose to show you, and which
I will now read in order to prove to you how things really
stand in the colony.”

“Read away,” rejoined Jason, with an air of sufficient
disdain.

Read I did, and in the following sententious and comprehensive
language, viz:—“Whereas the youth of this colony
are found, by manifold experience, to be not inferior in
their natural geniuses to the youth of any other country in
the world, therefore be it enacted, &c.”[7]

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

“There, sir,” I said in exultation, “you have chapter
and verse for the true character of the rising generation in
the colony of New York.”

“And what does that preamble lead to?” demanded
Jason, a little staggered at finding the equality of our New
York intellects established so clearly by legislative enactment.

“It is the preamble to an act establishing the free schools
of New York, in which the learned languages have now
been taught these twenty years; and you will please to remember
that another law has not long been passed establishing
a college in town.”

“Well, curious laws sometimes do get into the statute-books,
and a body must take them as he finds them. I
dare say Connecticut might have a word to say on the same
subject, if you would give her a chance. Have you heard
the wonderful news from Philadelphia, Corny, that has just
come among us?”

“I have heard nothing of late; for you know I have
been over in Rockland, with Dirck Follock, for the last two
weeks, and news never reaches that family, or indeed that
county.”

“No, that is true enough,” answered Jason, drily; “News
and a Dutchman have no affinity, or attraction, as we would
say in philosophy; though there is gravitation enough on
one side, ha! boy?”

Here Jason laughed outright, for he was always delighted
whenever he could get a side-hit at the children of Holland,
whom he appeared to regard as a race occupying a position
between the human family and the highest class of the
unintellectual animals. But it is unnecessary to dwell
longer on this dialogue, my object being merely to show the
general character of Jason's train of thought, in order to

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

be better understood when I come to connect his opinions
with his acts.

Dirck and myself were much together after my return
from college. I passed weeks at a time with him, and he
returned my visits with the utmost freedom and good-will.
Each of us had now got his growth, and it would have
done the heart of Frederick of Prussia good, to have seen
my young friend after he had ended his nineteenth year.
In stature he measured exactly six feet three, and he gave
every promise of filling up in proportion. Dirck was none
of your roundly-turned, Apollo-built fellows, but he had
shoulders that his little, short, solid, but dumpy-looking
mother, who was of the true stock, could scarcely span,
when she pulled his head down to give him a kiss; which
she did regularly, as Dirck told me himself, twice each
year; that is to say, Christmas and New-Year. His complexion
was fair, his limbs large and well proportioned, his
hair light, his eyes blue, and his face would have been
thought handsome by most persons. I will not deny, however,
that there was a certain ponderosity, both of mind and
body, about my friend, that did not very well accord with
the general notion of grace and animation. Nevertheless,
Dirck was a sterling fellow, as true as steel, as brave as a
game-cock, and as honest as noon-day light.

Jason was a very different sort of person, in many essentials.
In figure, he was also tall, but he was angular, loosejointed
and swinging—slouching would be the better word,
perhaps. Still, he was not without strength, having worked
on a farm until he was near twenty; and he was as active
as a cat; a result that took the stranger a little by surprise,
when he regarded only his loose, quavering sort of build.
In the way of thought, Jason would think two feet to Dirck's
one; but I am far from certain that it was always in so
correct a direction. Give the Dutchman time, he was very
apt to come out right; whereas Jason, I soon discovered,
was quite liable to come to wrong conclusions, and particularly
so in all matters that were a little adverse, and which
affected his own apparent interests. Dirck, moreover, was
one of the best-natured fellows that breathed; it being almost
impossible to excite him to anger; when it did come, however,
the earthquake was scarcely more terrific. I have

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

seen him enraged, and would as soon encounter a wild-boar,
in an open field, as run against his course, while in the fit.

Modesty will hardly permit me to say much of myself.
I was well-grown, active, strong, for my years; and, I am
inclined to think, reasonably well-looking; though I would
prefer that this much should be said by any one but myself.
Dirck and I often tried our manhood together, when youngsters,
and I was the better chap until my friend reached his
eighteenth year, when the heavy metal of the young Dutch
giant told in our struggles. After that period was past, I
found Dirck too much for me, in a close gripe, though my
extraordinary activity rendered the inequality less apparent
than it might otherwise have proved. I ought not to apply
the term of “extraordinary” to anything about myself, but
the word escaped me unconsciously, and I shall let it stand.
One thing I will say, notwithstanding, let the reader think
of it as he may: I was good-natured and well-disposed to
my fellow-creatures, and had no greater love of money than
was necessary to render me reasonably discreet.

Such is an outline of the characters and persons of three
of the principal actors in the scenes I am about to relate;
scenes that will possess some interest for those who love to
read accounts of adventures in a new country, however
much they may fail in interesting others, when I speak of
the condition and events of the more civilized condition of
society, that was enjoyed, even in my youth, in such old
counties as Westchester, and such towns as York.