Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 5.djvu/287

THE YORKTOWN CELEBRATION. 259 made them one from the crimson cover of her favorite chair. It has been religiously preserved all these hundred years, and it was very pleasant to see it floating with the stars and stripes.

And it was most pleasant to see the southern soldiers bearing the starry flag so loyally. The sight interpreted the truest, greatest, and best significance of the centennial, of more value and dearer than the commemoration of the victory of the Revolution, more precious than the spectacle of a great and powerful American army. And what is there on earth so inspiring as martial music? On that day it seemed like the pean of the ocean and the earth, ascending to a grateful Heaven, celebrating the reunion and peace of a grateful, happy, exultant people! It was a glorious, never-to be-forgotten scene.

It was universal that when the soldiers passed the grand stand, the effect of the superb marching was less perfect. They would turn their heads to have a look at the dignitaries seated there, and it is to be hoped that those distinguished individuals were good-natured enough to admire them all the more for it.

A visit to the old Moore House was not omitted. The building is in excellent preservation, but the spirit of 1881 was over it all, and extreme stylishness reigned paramount. The walls were decorated with dado, frieze and lotus blooms. The furniture was of the most ultra fashionable sort, and an enterprising New York firm had put a "Haines Pianoforte" there, with quantities of advertising cards containing aesthetic wood-cuts and testimonials from Campanini, Galassi and DeBelocca, for distribution. But as redeeming features there were fire-places four feet deep, brass mirrors, candle-sticks, and sconces of elegant workmanship, and other articles that told of the olden time. And perhaps after all it was fitting that the 18th and 19th centuries should meet and shake hands in the Moore House, as the representative 18th century descendants of the French and American nations were doing that day.

A pretty and pleasing incident occurred there. The great-grand-daughter of LaFayette was a robust young girl of pleasing appearance, a blonde, rather large, with intelligent countenance and sweet, kindly expression. She was surrounded by Americans eager to greet the descendant of the soldier whose memory is so dear to American hearts. An old man, evidently a farmer, dressed in his working clothes, came in and held out his hand to her. "I come all the way down from Massachusetts, more'n a thousan' miles, to be here," he said. "My father fought under Layfyet. We always sot a good deal by Layfyet!"

"I am very glad to take your hand sir," replied the young lady in good English, and with a sweet voice, grasping his hand heartily. Then she talked a little while with him and shook hands cordially again when she left the house. We thought the honest self-esteem and independence of the old man a good and practical illustration of our democracy for the titled foreigners in the Moore House parlor to take note of.

But the Frances was to sail on her homeward voyage that afternoon, and here we are grieved to record that the clay feet of the fair, beautiful and shining image of patriotism were displayed. Some of the passengers shamelessly deserted the good ship because of her infirmity, — she made them sea-sick! But one brave woman would not give up the Frances. She returned with her, the solitary female on board. She is a heroine to her feminine ex-companions, who all agreed that a place should be allowed her in their esteem alongside Boadicea the loyal British queen.

It may gratify lovers of poetic justice to learn that the deserters did not wholly escape tribulation. But a certain sweet, winsome woman, the diamonds in whose ears were not brighter than the smile and infectious way of making merry over discomforts that are apt to appal and sour many of her sex, was