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of American Squire Western. He was no rough, ungainly, sput
tering swaggering, untrained, untrimmed north country squire,
bull-headedly bolting into the circle, and storming and splurging
through it, wig streaming and cudgel flourishing on every hand.
The Major was a man of force and impulse, hut he was a man of
dignity also. Ilis character was bold and salient—his nature
demanded it— but it had been trained, and in not a bad school.
It had the sort of polish which was at once natural to, and suffi
cient for it, and his impulse was not without its grace, and his
vehemence was not wanting in the necessary forbearance. No
doubt, he sometimes shocked very weak nerves; and,knowing
that, lie was not apt to force his way into sick chambers. If the
invalid sensibility came in his way, it was at its own peril. So
much for the Major’s morale. His personnel was like his moral.
He was large, well made, erect at sixty, with full rosy cheeks, live
ly blue eyes, a frosty pow, but a lofty one, and he carried himself
*
like a mountain hunter. On horseback, he looked like a natural
captain of cavalry, and, I have no doubt he would have led a
charge such as would have made Marshal Ney clap hands in
approbation.
The Major met me at the porch of “ The Barony/’ and took
me by the shoulders, instead of by the hands.
“What, Dick, “said he, “ what, the devil! You are letting
hard study and the law kill you up. You are as thin as a cypress
pole, and look quite as melancholy. You are pale, wan, and quite
unlike what you were two years ago. Then, you could have stood
a wrestle with any of us, —now, —deuce take me Dick, if I can’t
throw you myself.”
And lie seemed half disposed to try the experiment.
“But this Christmas in the parish will bring you up again.
You must recruit. You must throw those law books to the devil.
No man has a right to pursue any study or profession which impairs
manhood. • Manhood, Dick, is the first of virtues. It includes, it
implies them all. Strength, health and courage, —these are the
first necessities—without these I would’nt give a tig for any virtue.
It could’nt l>e useful without it, and a stagnant virtue might as well
be a vice for all the benefit it does society.”
I report the Major literally. His speech will show the reader
the sort of character with whom he has to deal. I need not say
that I was received at “The Barony,” as if I had been one of the
household. Miss Janet Buhver, the maiden sister ot the Major, a
trim, quiet, sensible, and rather pretty antique —she certainly had
been pretty, and, by the way, had been crossed in love —welcomed
ttteas affectionately as if I had been her own son. She was the
Majors housekeeper, shared some of his characteristics, if not his
prejudices, but was subdued even to meekness in her demeanour.
Mit that she had lost her spirit ; but its exercise seldom suffered
proNocation. She rescued me from the clutches of her brother,
ai|, l conducted me to my chamber, in what was called the garden
‘“‘-i ot the establishment. It was near sunset when larriwd,
“ri Ned Buhner was absent; no one knew whither, lie had
£° ne out on horseback; I suspected in what direction. I was
&t the toilet, adjusting myself*for presentation at suppei,
“ri ii he burst into the room, with a cry of joy and welcome. He
riri a great deal to say, but the report was not favourable. He had
!l,,t } ( T been able to meet with Paula.
I,ut now that you are come, my dear fellow, you will call upon
11 “Id lady, and convey the necessary message to the young one.
THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS.
All of which I promised. We were yet busy in details when
/.nek, the most courtly negro that ever wore gentleman’s livery,
made his appearance.
Jla].]iy to see you, Mr. Richard,— very happy, sir;—not look
ing so well as in old thru*, Mr. Richard ;-hope you’ll improve,
sir, at the Barony. Mr. Ned,-Miss Janet says— supper’s on
table, gentlemen.”
Stately, courteous, deliberate, respectful, considerate, proper, re
served, always satisfactory, Zacliarias! You are a treasure in any
gentleman’s household ! We promptly obeyed the summons of
Aunt Janet for so I had long been accustomed to call her, in the
language of my friend.
CHAPTER V.
SUPPER AND PHILOSOPHY.
If, dear reader, you have been one of those luckless earthlings
t° whom an indulgent providence lias never permitted the enjoy
ment of the hospitalities of a Southern plantation, the proprietors
of which have been trained to good performances, by long prac
tice, under generous tuition, derived from the habits, customs,
manners, tastes and wealth of long time ago, —I can only pity
your ignorance, for, it is not possible, in the brief space allotted to
me in this narrative, to undertake to cure it. You must gather
up from incidental suggestions and remarks, as I proceed, w hat
faint notion I may thus afford you, of the thousand nameless
peculiarities which so gratefully distinguish social life in the re
gions through which we ramble together. It is not pretended,
mark me, that in this respect w r e have undergone no changes.
Far from it. The last thirty years have done much to render tra
ditional, in many quarters, those graces of hospitality which con
stituted the great charm of our old plantations ; and, in particu
lar, to lose for us the solid advantages of an English training and
education, as it was taught eighty years ago to our planters in Flu
rope, without giving to their descendants any corresponding equi
valent for it. Still there are tokens and trophies of the past,
making dear and holy certain ancient homesteads —an atmos
phere of the venerably sweet in the antique, the spells of which
have not entirely passed away. But these tokens no longer exhi
bit the usual vitality, though they retain the familiar form. Their
traces may be likened to the withered rose leaves in your old cabi
net, that still faintly appeal to the senses, but rather recall what
they cannot restore, and pain you by the contrasts they force upon
you, rather than compensate you by their still lingering sweetness.
It was the pride and passion of Major Bulmer,—who was fully con
scious of the changes going on in the country,—that “ Bulmer
Barony” should be. the last to surrender those social virtues which
constituted the rare excellence of our old plantation life in the
South.
Ilis home was a venerable brick mansion, after the old English
fashion in most respects,—a great square fabric, with wings. The
passage-way or hall was spacious, and the massive stair-flight that
ascended from it, was of mahogany of the most solid fabric. No
miserable veneering was the broad plate, and the elaborate mould
ing. This great house was always kept in thorough repair;
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