the calling of guests, the scolding of servants in the kitchen, the banging of doors, the general hubbub, the noise and clatter, were all idealized by me into one of those royal festivals Mary so often described.  To be allowed to carry plates of bread and butter, pie and cheese I counted a high privilege.  But more especially I enjoyed listening to the conversations in regard to the probable fate of our friends the prisoners in the jail.  On one occasion I projected a few remarks into a conversation between two lawyers, when one of them turned abruptly to me and said, “Child, you’d better attend to your business; bring me a glass of water.”  I replied indignantly, “I am not a servant; I am here for fun.”

In all these escapades we were followed by Peter, black as coal and six feet in height.  It seems to me now that his chief business was to discover our whereabouts, get us home to dinner, and take us back to school.  Fortunately he was overflowing with curiosity and not averse to lingering a while where anything of interest was to be seen or heard, and, as we were deemed perfectly safe under his care, no questions were asked when we got to the house, if we had been with him.  He had a long head and, through his diplomacy, we escaped much disagreeable surveillance.  Peter was very fond of attending court.  All the lawyers knew him, and wherever Peter went, the three little girls in his charge went, too.  Thus, with constant visits to the jail, courthouse, and my father’s office, I gleaned some idea of the danger of violating the law.

The great events of the year were the Christmas holidays, the Fourth of July, and “general training,” as the review of the county militia was then called.  The winter gala days are associated, in my memory, with hanging up stockings and with turkeys, mince pies, sweet cider, and sleighrides by moonlight.  My earliest recollections of those happy days, when schools were closed, books laid aside, and unusual liberties allowed, center in that large cellar kitchen to which I have already referred.  There we spent many winter evenings in uninterrupted enjoyment.  A large fireplace with huge logs shed warmth and cheerfulness around.  In one corner sat Peter sawing his violin, while our youthful neighbors danced with us and played blindman’s buff almost every evening during the vacation.  The most interesting character in this game was a black boy called Jacob (Peter’s lieutenant), who made things lively for us by always keeping one eye open—­a wise precaution to guard himself from danger, and to keep us on the jump.  Hickory nuts, sweet cider, and olie-koeks (a Dutch name for a fried cake with raisins inside) were our refreshments when there came a lull in the fun.