Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons

warfare,

of

Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber,

Cutlass and corslet of steel, and his trusty sword of

Damascus,

Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,

While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.

Short of stature he was, but strongly built and

athletic,

Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;

Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard

was already

Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes

in November.

Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,

Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by

the window;

Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon com

plexion,

Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives

Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles but Angels."

Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the May Flower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe

interrupting,

Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.

"Look at these arms," he said, "the warlike wea

pons that hang here

Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or

inspection!

This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in

Flanders; this breastplate,

Well I remember the day! once saved my life in a

skirmish ;

Here in front you can

see the

very dint of the

bullet

Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arca

bucero.

Had it not been of shear-steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish

Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."

Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not

up from his writing:

"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;

He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"

Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:

See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;

That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.

Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an

excellent adage;

So I take care

of my arms, as you of

your pens and

your inkhorn.

Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, in

vincible army,

Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,

Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and

pillage,

And, like Cæsar, I know the name of each of my

soldiers !"

This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams

Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.

Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain

continued:

"Look! you can see from this window

howitzer planted

my brazen

High on the roof of the church, a preacher who speaks to the purpose,

Steady, straight-forward, and strong, with irresistible logic,

Orthodox, flashing conviction right into the hearts of the heathen.

Now we are ready, I think, for any assault of the Indians;