Talked of their friends at home, and the "Mayflower" that sailed on the morrow.

"I have been thinking all day," said gently the Puritan

66

maiden,

Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hedgerows

of England,

85

They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a gar

den;

Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the

linnet,

Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighbors
Going about as of old, and stopping to gossip together,
And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the

ivy

90

Climbing the old gray tower, and the quiet graves in the

churchyard.

Kind are the people I live with, and dear to me my religion; Still my heart is so sad, that I wish myself back in Old England.

You will say it is wrong, but I cannot help it: I almost
Wish myself back in Old England, I feel so lonely and

wretched."

95

Thereupon answered the youth: "Indeed I do not con

demn 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 mar

riage

Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!"

100

Thus he delivered his message, the dexterous writer of

letters,―

Did not embellish the theme, nor array it in beautiful phrases, But came straight to the point, and blurted it out like a school-boy;

Even the Captain himself could hardly have said it more

bluntly.

Mute with amazement and sorrow, Priscilla the Puritan

maiden

105

Looked into Alden's face, her eyes dilated with wonder, 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, Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble to woo

me?

110

If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!"

Then John Alden began explaining and smoothing the matter, 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 115

answer:

"Has he no time for such things, as you call it, before he is married,

Would he be likely to find it, or make it, after the wedding? That is the way with you men; you don't understand us, you

cannot.

When you have made up your minds, after thinking of this one and that one,

Choosing, selecting, rejecting, comparing one with an

other,

120

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 125 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. Had he but waited awhile, had he only showed that he loved me,

Even this Captain of yours-who knows?—at last might have

won me,

Old and rough as he is; but now it never can happen. 130

Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words of Priscilla,

Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, ex

panding;

Spoke of his courage and skill, and of all his battles in Flan

ders,

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;

135

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

Combed and wattled gules, and all the rest of the blazon.'

1 Hebrews, xi. 25.

140

2 Captain Standish had inherited, according to the laws of heraldry, the family armorial insignia. These were originally embroidered on the knight's hauberk, or coat-ofmail-hence the term, coat of arms-but later, on the shield or escutcheon. The Standish crest was a silver cock, with red comb and wattle, appended to the family shield. Blazon is the description in heraldic terms of the charges, or objects, on the shield.

He was a man of honor, 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; Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and head

strong,

145

Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty, and placable al

ways,

Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was little of stature;

For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous;
Any woman in Plymouth, nay, any woman in England,
Might be happy and proud to be called the wife of Miles
Standish!

150

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?"

IV.

JOHN ALDEN.

INTO the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered, Rushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by the sea

side;

Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head to the east

wind,

Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever within him. Slowly, as out of the heavens, with apocalyptical splendors, 5 Sank the City of God, in the vision of John the Apostle,'

1 Revelation of St. John, xxi. 10-27.

So, with its cloudy walls of chrysolite, jasper, and sap

phire,

Sank the broad red sun, and over its turrets uplifted

Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who measured the city.

66

Welcome, O wind of the East!" he exclaimed in his wild

exultation,

10

"Welcome, O wind of the East, from the caves of the misty

Atlantic!

Blowing o'er fields of dulse,' and measureless meadows of sea

grass,

Blowing o'er rocky wastes, and the grottos and gardens of

ocean!

Lay thy cold, moist hand on my burning forehead, and wrap

me

Close in thy garments of mist, to allay the fever within me!"

15

Like an awakened conscience, the sea was moaning and

tossing,

Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands of the seashore.

Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult of passions contending;

Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship wounded and bleeding,

Passionate cries of desire, and importunate pleadings of

duty!

20

"Is it my fault," he said," that the maiden has chosen be

tween us?

Is it my fault that he failed,-my fault that I am the vic

1 Sea-weed of a reddish brown color, adhering to the rocks in long strips, and sometimes eaten, as in Scotland.