uritans with their sour visages and long prayers,
and which consisted of those three expressive words, "God bless us."

"I have always thought," said the Colonel, apologetically, "that this
was enough--for where's the use of praying over our meals, until they
get so cold and cheerless, that there is less to be thankful for."

"Especially," said Bernard, chiming in at once with the old man's
prejudices, "when this brief language contains all that is
necessary--for even Omnipotence can but bless us--and we may easily
leave the mode to Him."

"Well said, young man, and now come and partake of our homely fare,
seasoned with a hearty welcome," said the Colonel, cordially.

Nor loth was Alfred Bernard to do full justice to the ample store before
him. A ride of more than thirty miles had whetted an appetite naturally
good, and the youth of "right rare merit," did not impress his kind host
very strongly with his conversational powers during his hearty meal.

The repast being over, the little party retired to a room, which the old
planter was pleased to call his study, but which savored far more of the
presence of the sportive Diana, than of the reflecting muses. Over the
door, as you entered the room, were fastened the large antlers of some
noble deer, who had once bounded freely and gracefully through his
native forest. Those broad branches are now, by a sad fatality, doomed
to support the well oiled fowling-piece that laid their wearer low.
Fishing tackle, shot-pouches, fox brushes, and other similar evidences
and trophies of sport, testified to the Colonel's former delight in
angling and the chase; but now alas! owing to the growing infirmities of
age, though he still cherished his pack, and encouraged the sport, he
could only start the youngsters in the neighborhood, and give them God
speed! as with horses, hounds, and horns they merrily scampered away in
the fresh, early morning. But with his love for these active, manly
sports, Colonel Temple was devoted to reading such works as ran with his
prejudices, and savored of the most rigid loyalty. His books, indeed,
were few, for in that day it was no easy matter to procure books at all,
especially for the colonists, who cut off from the great fountain of
literature which was then just reviving from the severe drought of
puritanism, were but sparingly supplied with the means of information.
But a few months later than the time of which we write, Sir William
Berkeley boasted