Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker

cupied its whole westward length, and upstairs was a vast room, with bare joists above, in which, by virtue of the deed of gift, any Christian sect was free to worship if te

in winter, dared to climb over and search around the

discover other annoyances quite as little to the taste of Friends, such as stone fights or snowball skirmishes. Did time permit, I should like well to linger long over this school life. The college,

r two as to what manner of lad I was in his remembrance o

ways been, fearful. When we took apples, after the fashion of all Adam's young descendants, he was as like as not to give them away. I think he went with us on these, and some wilder errands, chiefly because of his fondness for danger, a thing I could never comprehend. He still has his mother's great eyes of blue, and a fair, clear skin. God bless him! Had I never known him I

riends at the academy, and were, thanks to the brute Dove, better ground

r I know not, nor did ever know. What he meant by his weaknesses I cannot tell, and as to t

, in case her absence delayed a reply, I was to remain and eat my midday meal. My father was loath always to call upon his sister. She had early returned to the creed of her ancestors, and sat on Sun

she was, I may add, a woman of large estate. I was allowed to visit her as I pleased. Indeed, I did so often. I liked no one better, always excepting my m

to be careful not to overturn their loads of Chinese dragons, ivory carvings, grotesque Delft beasts, and fans, French or Spanish or of the Orient. There was also a spinet, and a corner closet of books, of which every packet brought her a variety. Upstairs was a fair room full of volumes, big and little, as I found to my joy rather later, and these were of all kinds: some good, and some of them queer, or naughty. Over the wide, white fireplace was a portrait of herself by the elder Peale, but I prefer the one now in my library. This latter hung, at the time I speak of, between the windows. It was significant of my aunt's idea of her own importance that she should have wished to possess two portraits of herself. The latter was painted by S

ess of an old gambler, and this habit, perhaps more than aught beside, troubled my father. Sincere and consistent in his views, I can hardly think that my father was, after all, unable to resist the worldly advantages which my aunt declared should be mine. It was, in fact, difficult to keep me out of

t them but look in the "Observer," and see what manner of finery was advertised in 1778 as stole from our friend, Sarah Fisher, sometime Sarah Logan, a much respected member of Meeting. In this, as

rst, among these famous adventures, on an extraordinary passage, so wonderful, indeed, and so amusing, that I heard not the entrance of my father, who at the door had met my aunt, and with her some fine

se embarrassed by these fine dames, and never, to my thinking, was seen to better advantage than among what he called "world's people." He se

olonel Eager Howard, was saying saucily, "Does not Madam Wyn

ter, a riding-mask," cried Aunt Gainor, pleased at this gentle badgering, "like thi

rs. Ferguson, "or green, with a chin-curt

"her skin is good enough. I

nd would come on his business another day. But on this the women would not stay, and took themselves and their high bonnets and many pe

quired what book I was reading. Aunt Gainor glanced at it, and replied for me, "A book of travels, John, very improving too. Take it home,

r a venture threescore hogsheads of tobacco from Annapolis. I like not to trade with my sister, nor that she should trade at all: and now, when I hav

riding, and appeared in a rich brocade of gray silken stuff, and a striped under-gown. When she had put off her loose

," said m

e me for your toba

ou trifle?"

ndred pounds. Two tobacco-ships are wrecked on H

t on her news. I had an idea that he would not

s. Although generous, and even lavish, she dearly loved a good bargain, and, I

reading. Here is sixpence out of my gains. I hope you will never need to trade, and, indeed, why

should

s with a magistrate, and when they are become rich enough take them back again. There is some pleasing ceremony, but I forget.

did not u

umpling. "Take some molasses. Oh, as much as you please. I

r could resist a laugh, and so we made merry like children, as was usual, for, as

en to turn Quaker and give up fox-hunting and the old place. I was told, too, how much she had lost to Mr. Penn last night, and more that was neither well for me to hear nor wise for her to tell; but as

guson says you are too big to be kissed, and not old enough to kiss,"

lessons of my life in favour of this doctrine were, of a sudden, rendered vain. We were going home in

bushes and briers. Here the elder lads paus

y should I fig

nding in the school, and T

ad heard every First-day, and ever and ever at home, that all things were to be suffered of all men (and of boys too, I presume). I was troubled for Hugh, but I noticed that while he said

hustling us, and Alloway crying, 'Coward!' I looked about for some man who would help us, but there was no one; onl

. I turned, followed by Hugh, and ran fleetly across the open ground and through the bushes. About midway I looked back. Two lads were near up

and struck another, and even now recall how a stra

ast I remember clearly, for the lust of battle was on me, and I can recall no more of what chanced for a little, than I

Forest, and was overwhelmed with fear; for often on First-day I had heard him preach solemnly, and always it was as to turnin

war, boys. Wh

ght for my standin

that mind just now. There will

d, "It is Allowa

say, "Then take off thy jacket

ger and older than I, cried out that I would laugh on the other side of

Friend Forest. "Keep cool

tronger, and I kept my wits better than might have been expected. At last I got his head under my arm with a grip on his gullet, and so mauled

ough, I thi

! Damn him!" It

Forest. "No pr

Now this fine statement I had come upon in a book of Mr. William Penn's

." For Alloway walked sullenly away, not man enough to take

now, and whic

Come, boys, I must see you well out of this." And so re

s long-stemmed reed pipe at his ease. He ros

we were bloody, and hot with fight and wra

and made much of his own share in the renewal

ds were not to blame. But how wilt thou

, to any man,"

Friends because of thy having beaten Friend Wa

to spread

said my

m but a jack-in-the-box Quaker, John. I am in an

, John Warder, wait until I send with thee a note to th

n order, and cried

, let it be so that thy adversary repent of it. Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! j'en ai peur;

clamations, Jack said as

er, being more observing than I-as if she were looking away into the distance of time, thinking of what might come to pass. She had, indeed, strange insight, and