Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the ColonyCooper, James Fenimore
General
Satanstoe; Or, the Littlepage Manuscripts. A Tale of the Colony
Cooper, James Fenimore
Antirent War, N.Y., 1839-1846 -- Fiction
I promised Guert that I would use all my influence with the ladies, to
induce them to trust themselves with his team, and, in order that I might
speak with authority, the sleigh was ordered round to the door forthwith,
with a view first to take a turn with me. The winter equipage of Guert Ten
Eyck was really a tasteful and knowing thing. I had often seen handsomer
sleighs, in the way of paint, varnish, tops and mouldings; for to these he
appeared to pay very little attention. The points on which its owner most
valued his sleigh, was the admirable manner in which it rested on its
runners--pressing lightly both behind and before. Then the traces were
nearer on a level with the horses, than was common; though not so high as
to affect the draft. The colour, without, was a sky-blue; a favourite Dutch
tint; while within, it was fiery-red. The skins were very ample: all coming
from the grey wolf. As these skins were lined with scarlet cloth, the
effect of the whole was sufficiently cheering and warm. I ought not to
forget the bells. In addition to the four sets buckled to the harness, the
usual accompaniment of every sort of sleigh-harness, Guert had provided two
enormous strings (always leathern straps), that passed from the saddles
quite down under the bodies of Jack and Moses; and another string around
each horse's neck, thus increasing the jingling music of his march, at
least fourfold beyond the usual quantity. [25]
In this style, then, we dashed from the door of the old Ten Eyck-house; all
the blacks in the street gazing at us in delight, and shaking their sides
with laughter--a negro always expressing his admiration of anything, even
to a sermon, in that mode. I remember to have heard a traveller who had
been as far as Niagara, declare that his black did nothing but roar
with laughter, the first half-hour he stood confronted with that mighty
cataract.
Nor did the blacks alone stop to admire Guert Ten Eyck, his sleigh and his
horses. All the young men in the place paid Guert this homage, for he
was unanimously admitted to be the best whip, and the best judge of
horse-flesh, in Albany; that is, the best judge for his years. Several
young women who were out in sleighs, looked behind them, as we passed,
proving that the admiration extended even to the other sex. All this Guert
felt and saw, and its effect was very visible in his manner as he stood
guiding his spirited pair, amid the woodsleds that still crowded the main
street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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