and dignified looking warriors.

The governor, elder, captain, with some other of the principal men,
stood still in the open space where the King's Highway crossed The
Street, and greeted, soberly as befitted the day, yet cordially as
befitted charity and hospitality, their guests, who watched with wary
eyes every movement of the hosts whom they hardly trusted, while
Samoset, stepping forward, unrolled a fine mat, or wrapping-rug, in his
arm, and ceremoniously laid two axes and a wedge at the feet of
Standish, saying briefly,--

"The white chief has his own again."

"Our tools. Yes, that is as it should be," replied the captain,
"although we may not use them to-day."

"Six hungry guests to divide the dinner with us!" exclaimed Priscilla in
dismay as she stood at Mistress Brewster's side, her glowing brunette
beauty shining out in contrast with the soft ashen tints of the older
woman's face.

"Ay 't will put us to our trumps to make ready enough hot victual for
all," replied the elder's wife.

"They shall have none of the marchpane thou didst make yestere'en,
Priscilla!" expostulated Desire Minter anxiously. "There is no more than
enow for us that be women."

"That will rest as our dear mother says," replied Priscilla smiling into
Dame Brewster's face.

"Nay, it needs not the marchpane thou madest so toilsomely to entertain
these salvages to whom our ship-biscuit are a treat," and the elder
woman smiled tenderly back into the glowing face so near her own.

So presently the table in the Common house was spread with what to the
red men was a feast of the gods, and they gravely ate enough for twelve
men, evidently carrying out the time-honored policy of Dugald Dalgetty
and of the camel, to lay in as there is opportunity provision not only
for the present, but the future. Dinner ended, both red and white men
assembled in the open space before mentioned, now in Plymouth called the
Town Square, and the Indians grouping themselves in the centre began
what may be called a dance, although from the gravity of their faces and
solemnity of their movements the elder was seized with a suspicion that
fairly turned him pale.

"Are the heathen creatures practicing their incantations and
warlock-work in our very midst, and on the Lord's Day?" demanded he.
"Stephen Hopkins, thou knowest their devices, how is it?"

"Nay, Elder," replied Hopkins chuckling in spite of his efforts at
Sunday sobriety. "It is a feast-dance, a manne