When the cloth was removed, the butler brought in a huge silvervessel of rare and curious workmanship, which he placed before thesquire. Its appearance was hailed with acclamation; being theWassail Bowl, so renowned in Christmas festivity. The contents hadbeen prepared by the squire himself; for it was a beverage in theskilful mixture of which he particularly prided himself: alleging thatit was too abtruse and complex for the comprehension of an ordinaryservant. It was a potation, indeed, that might well make the heartof a toper leap within him; being composed of the richest andraciest wines, highly spiced and sweetened, with roasted applesbobbing about the surface.** The Wassail Bowl was sometimes composed of ale instead of wine;with nutmeg, sugar, toast, ginger, and roasted crabs; in this waythe nut-brown beverage is still prepared in some old families, andround the hearths of substantial farmers at Christmas. It is alsocalled Lamb's Wool, and is celebrated by Herrick in his Twelfth Night:
Next crowne the bowle full
With gentle Lamb's Wool;
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger
With store of ale too;
And thus ye must doe
To make the Wassaile a swinger.
The old gentleman's whole countenance beamed with a serene look ofindwelling delight, as he stirred this mighty bowl. Having raised itto his lips, with a hearty wish of a merry Christmas to all present,he sent it brimming round the board, for every one to follow hisexample, according to the primitive style; pronouncing it "the ancientfountain of good feeling, where all hearts met together."** "The custom of drinking out of the same cup gave place to eachhaving his cup. When the steward came to the doore with the Wassel, hewas to cry three times, Wassel, Wassel, Wassel, and then thechappell (chaplein) was to answer with a song."- ARCHAEOLOGIA.
There was much laughing and rallying as the honest emblem ofChristmas joviality circulated, and was kissed rather coyly by theladies. When it reached Master Simon, he raised it in both hands,and with the air of a boon companion struck up an old Wassail chanson.
The brown bowle,
The merry brown bowle,
As it goes round about-a,
Fill
Still,
Let the world say what it will,
And drink your fill all out-a.
The deep canne,
The merry deep canne,
As thou dost freely quaff-a,
Sing
Fling,
Be as merry as a king,
And sound a lusty laugh-a.*
* From Poor Robin's Almanac.
Much of the conversation during dinner turned upon family topics, towhich I was a stranger. There was, however, a great deal of rallyingof Master Simon about some gay widow, with whom he was accused ofhaving a flirtation. This attack was commenced by the ladies; but itwas continued throughout the dinner by the fat-headed old gentlemannext the parson, with the persevering assiduity of a slow hound; beingone of those long-winded jokers, who, though rather dull at startinggame, are unrivalled for their talents in hunting it down. At everypause in the general conversation, he renewed his bantering inpretty much the same terms; winking hard at me with both eyes,whenever he gave Master Simon what he considered a home thrust. Thelatter, indeed, seemed fond of being teased on the subject, as oldbachelors are apt to be; and he took occasion to inform me, in anundertone, that the lady in question was a prodigiously fine woman,and drove her own curricle.
The dinner-time passed away in this flow of innocent hilarity,and, though the old hall may have resounded in its time with many ascene of broader rout and revel, yet I doubt whether it ever witnessedmore honest and genuine enjoyment. How easy it is for one benevolentbeing to diffuse pleasure around him; and how truly is a kind hearta fountain of gladness, making every thing in its vicinity tofreshen into smiles! the joyous disposition of the worthy squire wasperfectly contagious; he was happy himself, and disposed to make allthe world happy; and the little eccentricities of his humor did butseason, in a manner, the sweetness of his philanthropy.
When the ladies had retired, the conversation, as usual, becamestill more animated; many good things were broached which had beenthought of during dinner, but which would not exactly do for alady's ear; and though I cannot positively affirm that there wasmuch wit uttered, yet I have certainly heard many contests of rare witproduce much less laughter. Wit, after all, is a mighty tart,pungent ingredient, and much too acid for some stomachs; but honestgood humor is the oil and wine of a merry meeting, and there is nojovial companionship equal to that where the jokes are rather small,and the laughter abundant.
The squire told several long stories of early college pranks andadventures, in some of which the parson had been a sharer; though inlooking at the latter, it required some effort of imagination tofigure such a little dark anatomy of a man into the perpetrator of amadcap gambol. Indeed, the two college chums presented pictures ofwhat men may be made by their different lots in life. The squire hadleft the university to live lustily on his paternal domains, in thevigorous enjoyment of prosperity and sunshine, and had flourished onto a hearty and florid old age; whilst the poor parson, on thecontrary, had dried and withered away, among dusty tomes, in thesilence and shadows of his study. Still there seemed to be a sparkof almost extinguished fire, feebly glimmering in the bottom of hissoul; and as the squire hinted at a sly story of the parson and apretty milkmaid, whom they once met on the banks of the Isis, theold gentleman made an "alphabet of faces," which, as far as I coulddecipher his physiognomy, I verily believe was indicative oflaughter;- indeed, I have rarely met with an old gentleman that tookabsolute offence at the imputed gallantries of his youth.
