After the first great snow, when he broke a path from the village, Reeling and plunging along through the drifts that encumbered the doorway, Stamping the snow from his feet as he entered the house, and Priscilla So he stood there abashed, and gave her the flowers for an answer. Then they sat down and talked of the birds and the beautiful Spring time, Talked of their friends at home, and the May Flower that sailed on the morrow. "I have been thinking all day," said gently the Puritan maiden, 66 Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hedge-rows of England, They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a garden; Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the linnet, Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighbours Going about as of old, and stopping to gossip together, And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the ivy Climbing the old grey tower, and the quiet graves in the churchyard. Still my heart is so sad, that I wish myself back in Old England. Wish myself back in Old England, I feel so lonely and wretched." Thereupon answered the youth :-" Indeed I do not condemn you; Stouter hearts than a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter. Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on ; So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!" Thus he delivered his message, the dexterous writer of letters,- Feeling his words like a blow, that stunned her and rendered her speechless; Till at length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: "If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, Making it worse as he went, by saying the Captain was busy,— Had no time for such things;-such things! the words grating harshly Fell on the ear of Priscilla; and swift as a flash she made answer: When you have made up your minds, after thinking of this one and that one, Choosing, selecting, rejecting, comparing one with another, Then you make known your desire, with abrupt and sudden avowal, And are offended and hurt, and indignant perhaps, that a woman Does not respond at once to a love that she never suspected, Does not attain at a bound the height to which you have been climbing. This is not right nor just: for surely a woman's affection Is not a thing to be asked for, and had for only the asking. When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it. Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words of Priscilla, Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, expanding; Spoke of his courage and skill, and of all his battles in Flanders, How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction, How, in return for his zeal, they had made him Captain of Plymouth; He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, England, Who was the son of Ralph, and the grandson of Thurston de Standish ; Heir unto vast estates, of which he was basely defrauded, Still bore the family arms, and had for his crest a cock argent He was a man of honour, of noble and generous nature; Though he was rough, he was kindly; she knew how during the winter He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as woman's; Might be happy and proud to be called the wife of Miles Standish! But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language, Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with laughter, Said, in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John ?" INTO the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered, Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who measured the city. 66 "Welcome, O wind of the East," he exclaimed in his wild exultation, Welcome, O wind of the East, from the caves of the misty Atlantic! |