| | 1 | Author: | Kirkland
Caroline M.
(Caroline Matilda)
1801-1864 | Add | | | Title: | Western clearings  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | Wiley and Putnam's library of American books | wiley and putnams library of american books | | | | Description: | The wild new country, with all its coarseness and all its
disadvantages of various kinds, has yet a fascination for the
settler, in consequence of a certain free, hearty tone, which has
long since disappeared, if indeed it ever existed, in parts of the
country where civilization has made greater progress. The
really fastidious, and those who only pretend to be such, may hold
this as poor compensation for the many things lacking of another
kind; but those to whose apprehension sympathy and sincerity
have a pre-eminent and independent charm, prefer the kindly
warmth of the untaught, to the icy chill of the half-taught; and
would rather be welcomed by the woodsman to his log-cabin, with
its rough hearth, than make one of a crowd who feed the ostentation
of a millionaire, or gaze with sated eyes upon costly feasts
which it would be a mockery to dignify with the name of hospitality.
The infrequency of inns in a newly settled country leads
naturally to the practice of keeping “open house” for strangers;
and it is rare indeed that the settler, however poor his accommodations,
hesitates to offer the best he has to the tired wayfarer.
Where payment is accepted, it is usually very inconsiderable;
and it is seldom accepted at all, unless the guest is manifestly
better off than his entertainer. But whether a compensation be
taken or refused, the heartiness of manner with which every thing
that the house affords is offered, cannot but be acceptable to the
visitor. Even the ever rampant pride, which comes up so disagreeably
at the West, where the outward appearance of the
stranger betokens any advantage of condition, slumbers when
that stranger claims hospitality. His horse is cared for with
more solicitude than the host ever bestows on his own; the table
is covered with the best provisions the house affords, set forth in
the holiday dishes; the bed is endued with the brightest patchwork
quilt—the pride of the housewife's heart; and if there be
any fat fowls—any white honey—any good tea—about the premises,
the guest will be sure to have it, even though it may have
been reserved for “Independence” or “Thanksgiving.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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