The grove of elms and willows was stripped of its leaves,
which whirled in rustling eddies about the fields.
The ninepin alley was deserted, for the premature chilliness of the day
had driven the company within doors. As it was Saturday afternoon, the
habitual club was in session, composed principally of regular Dutch
burghers, though mingled occasionally with persons of various,
character and country, as is natural in a place of such motley
population.
Beside the fire-place, and in a huge leather-bottomed armchair, sat the
dictator of this little world, the venerable Rem, or, as it was
pronounced, Ramm Rapelye.
He was a man of Walloon race, and illustrious for the antiquity of his
line, his great grandmother having been the first white child born in
the province. But he was still more illustrious for his wealth and
dignity: he had long filled the noble office of alderman, and was a man
to whom the governor himself took off his hat. He had maintained
possession of the leathern-bottomed chair from time immemorial; and had
gradually waxed in bulk as he sat in his seat of government, until in
the course of years he filled its whole magnitude. His word was
decisive with his subjects; for he was so rich a man, that he was never
expected to support any opinion by argument. The landlord waited on him
with peculiar officiousness; not that he paid better than his
neighbors, but then the coin of a rich man seems always to be so much
more acceptable.
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