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Updated: May 23, 2025
He whispered: "There must be no quarrel here, Mr. Mauverensen. And there must be no notice taken of his last words spoken in heat, and properly due, I dare say, to the punch rather than to the man." "I feel that as deeply as you can," I replied. "I am glad," said Watts, still in a sidelong whisper. "We have one ready standing," I whispered back.
Not that he was better born a thousand times no! But I had drawn from the self-sacrificing, modest, devoted man of God, my father, and the resolute, tireless, hard working, sternly honest housewife, my mother, the fatal notion that it was not beneath the dignity of a Mauverensen or a Van Hoorn to be of use in the world.
For years his younger daughter, my mother, kept watch over him, contrived by hook or by crook to collect his old credits outstanding, and maintained at least enough of his business to ward the wolf from the door. It was only after his death, and after her older sister Margaret had gone to Coeymans with her husband, Kronk, that my mother married the elderly Dominie Mauverensen.
Mauverensen," she said, heatedly, "to belong to an army made up of such ruffians. Every rag of raiment that man has on he stole from my husband's wardrobe at the Hall. To think of calling such low fellows officers, or consorting with them!"
Stewart threatened him with a hiding, and so Tulp wore it on a leather string about his neck. I did not change my name, but continued to be Douw Mauverensen. This was at the wish of both Mr. Stewart and my mother, for the name I bore was an honorable one.
But all say matters will be worse before they mend. "Affectionately, your mother, "Katharine Mauverensen." As I look at this ancient, faded letter, which brought to me in belated and roundabout form the tidings of Mr. Stewart's helpless condition and of Daisy's illness and grief, I can recall that my first impulse was to laugh.
This attention was not altogether friendly. Some of the ladies had drawn in their skirts impatiently, as they passed, and beyond them I saw a group of Dutch friends of mine, among them Teunis, who were scowling dark looks at the new-comers. Sir John recognized me as he approached, and deigned to say, "Ha! Mauverensen you here?" after a cool fashion, and not offering his hand.
The latter was also to remain with her during my absence and Major Mauverensen almost envied his slave. The Rendezvous of Fighting Men at Fort Dayton. I shall not easily forget the early breakfast next morning, or the calm yet serious air with which my mother and two unmarried sisters went about the few remaining duties of preparing for my departure.
My story can be advanced in no better way than by translating freely from the original Dutch document, which I still have, and which shows, if nothing else, that Dame Mauverensen had powers of directness and brevity of statement not inherited by her son. "January 9, A. D. 1776. "Dearly Beloved Son: This I write, being well and contented for the most part, and trusting that you are the same.
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