The Audubon Reader by John James Audubon Read Free Book Online Page B

time the grove was alive with merriment. A great wooden cannon, bound with iron hoops, was now crammed with homemade powder; fire was conveyed to it by means of a[powder] train, and as the explosion burst forth, thousands of hearty huzzas mingled with its echoes. From the most learned a good oration fell in proud and gladdening words on every ear, and although it probably did not equal the eloquence of a Clay, an Everett, a Webster or a Preston, it served to remind every Kentuckian present of the glorious name, the patriotism, the courage and the virtue of our immortal Washington. Fifes and drums sounded the march which had ever led him to glory; and as they changed to our celebrated “Yankee Doodle” the air again rang with acclamations.
    Now the stewards invited the assembled throng to the feast. The fair led the van and were first placed around the tables, which groaned under the profusion of the best productions of the country that had been heaped upon them. On each lovely nymph attended her gay beau, who in her chance or sidelong glances ever watched an opportunity of reading his happiness. How the viands diminished under the action of so many agents of destruction I need not say, nor is it necessary that you should listen to the long recital. Many a national toast was offered and accepted, many speeches were delivered and many essayed in amicable reply. The ladies then retired to booths that had been erected at a little distance, to which they were conducted by their partners, who returned to the table and having thus cleared for action, recommenced a series of hearty rounds. However, as Kentuckians are neither slow nor long at their meals, all were in a few minutes replenished, and after a few more draughts from the bowl, they rejoined the ladies, and prepared for the dance.
    Double lines of a hundred fair ones extended along the ground in the most shady part of the woods, while here and there smaller groups awaited the merry trills of reels and cotillions. A burst of music from violins, clarinets and bugles gave the welcome notice, and presently the whole assemblage seemed to be gracefully moving through the air. The “hunting shirts” now joined in the dance, their fringed skirts keeping time with the gowns of the ladies, and the married people of either sex stepped in and mixed with their children. Every countenance beamed with joy, every heart leaped with gladness; no pride, no pomp, no affectation, were there; their spirits brightened as they continued their exhilarating exercise andcare and sorrow were flung to the winds. During each interval of rest refreshments of all sorts were handed round, and while the fair one cooled her lips with the grateful juice of the melon, the hunter of Kentucky quenched his thirst with ample draughts of well-tempered punch.
    I know, reader, that had you been with me on that day you would have richly enjoyed the sight of this national
fête champetre
[country festival]. You would have listened with pleasure to the ingenuous tale of the lover, the wise talk of the elder on the affairs of the state, the accounts of improvement in stock and utensils and the hopes of continued prosperity to the country at large and to Kentucky in particular. You would have been pleased to see those who did not join the dance shooting at distant marks with their heavy rifles or watched how they shewed off the superior speed of their high bred “old Virginia” horses while others recounted their hunting exploits and at intervals made the woods ring with their bursts of laughter. With me the time sped like an arrow in its flight, and although more than twenty years have elapsed since I joined a Kentucky barbecue, my spirit is refreshed every 4th of July by the recollection of that day’s merriment.
    But now the sun has declined and the shades of evening creep over the scene. Large fires are lighted in the woods, casting the long shadows of the live columns far along the trodden ground and flaring on