with a yellow waistcoat and white plush hat out of her private
purse, gave an evening party in honor of my departure. Parson
Stebbins, the doctor of a neighboring village, (not Easley, for he
had set up his fortunes in New York,) and sundry bright-eyed damsels
of my acquaintance, were invited, and came accompanied by their
sturdy parents. The last jar of jam and applesauce was stormed, the
two fattest pullets in the yard brought to the block, choice mince
and pumpkin pies were propounded, three dollars were expended upon a
citron cake such as Cape Cod had never seen before, and no less than
a dozen bottles of Captain Zeke Brewster's double refined cider was
got of Major Cook, the grocer. Stronger beverages were held in
questionable respect by the Cape folks. My mother did, indeed, busy
herself for nearly two days in the preparation of this supper,
declaring at the same time that she would not be outdone by any
housewife this side of Barnstable at least. Nor did she heed my
father, who continued the while muttering his misgivings.

The stars shone out bright on the night of the party, which passed
off to the delight of every one present. The fowls, and the pies,
and the jam and apple-sauce, and a dish of tea the parson declared
could not be excelled, were all discussed with great cheerfulness.
My father, as was his custom, drew his chair aside after supper, and
engaged two of his guests in religious conversation, while the
doctor and the parson got into a corner, and soon became deeply
absorbed in a question of law, which they debated over the cider.

No sooner had my mother set her table to rights than she, with an
air of motherly watchfulness, drew her chair beside the damsels,
with whom I was exchanging the gossip of the Cape, and entered
cheerfully into our conversation.