Page:Letters of Life.djvu/244

232 young eyes studied the promise of the clouds, rain being a fearful foe to such delights as they anticipated. A finer morning never dawned upon expectant earth. At an early hour the committee of arrangements proceeded to their field of action. Parents, and particular friends, had already received invitations to be present, and partake our happiness.

Vividly the scene returns, with all its minute lineaments. The lofty trees, lightly waving with the breath of summer, the "smooth-shaven green," the sparkling river, with its liquid monotony of welcome, the beaming countenances of the white-robed band, the light footsteps of those of their number whose office it was to receive the guests, and who, with graceful courtesy, their sashes floating out on the breeze, hastened forward to greet every coming friend. Then there was the long table, with its white cloth gleaming through embowering branches, spread with a plentiful collation of wonderful variety, each having contributed, in an ample basket, such viands as were deemed most rare or congenial. Thus every visitant was liberally entertained, and hospitably pressed to replenish, by the wide-awake, untiring hostesses. There were also songs, and pleasant talk, among the picturesque groups seated beneath umbrageous trees, or wandering by the fringed margin of the river, and, as the sun drew low, warm thanks of the gratified visitants, as they returned to their carriages. After their departure, the care of the