Then they retired stiller than they came.
But the festival of peace should also be one of joy, and there were with the old far too many who were young to keep in their joy very long. At first a few lively words were jokingly interchanged. Then a lusty fellow had a funny conceit which, in that beautiful, bright sunshine, he could not possibly keep to himself. The old smiled. The young men laughed. The girls giggled. The laughter and the joyfulness were so inspiring and communicative that the guns went off as if of themselves, and an hour later one who did not know better might have thought that Herkimer's house, which the French had not ventured to attack in the frightful years of '57 and '58, was being stormed on the festival of peace by German young men.
This indeed was unnecessary. Nicolas Herkimer's large and hospitable house had to-day all its doors opened wider than usual, for men and women--for all who lived oh the Mohawk, on the creek and on the Schoharie--for all that were German, or that were ready to rejoice with the Germans--all were invited, and were welcome to drink of Nicolas Herkimer's beer and eat of his roast, and, happy with the joyful, help to celebrate the great festival. As all had been invited so nobody stayed at home, unless it might be a mother who could not leave her children alone, or one to whom it was utterly impossible to come. Big John Mertens had come, and, simpering, mingled with the guests, his thumbs in the pockets of his long vest, except when he drew somebody aside secretly to ask him if it was not very nice in John Mertens that he gave precedence to Nicolas Herkimer, and that he did honor to his festival by his presence; that he could just as well entertain such a multitude of guests and perhaps a little better. Hans Haberkorn was there, and acted very modestly and reminded one and another that he had then already said that three ferries across the river were not too many. Now there were six ferrymen and all made a good living. Some thought that Hans Haberkorn talked in that way because he was owing Nicolas Herkimer every cent that the ferry and beer-house were worth, and a couple of hundred dollars besides. But who had time now to investigate such things?