ion, after the first day spent in Mrs. Seymour's cheerful society
she found herself much less homesick than she had expected. To begin
with, the coach was, for those times, very comfortable. It was
English-built, and had been provided with capacious pockets in
unexpected places; it amused Betty exceedingly to find that she was
seated over the turkey, ham, cake, and even a goodly pat of butter,
carefully packed in a small stone jar, while another compartment held
several changes of linen, powder, a small mirror, a rouge pot, and some
brushes. Mrs. Seymour had been born and bred in New York, and many of
her people were Tories; therefore she hoped to assist the brother who,
breaking apart from the others, had taken up arms for the colonists.

Caesar, Mrs. Seymour's coachman, was a colored man of middle age, a
slave of her father's, and, having been brought from New York to
Connecticut, knew the route fairly well. They broke the journey first at
a small roadside tavern, where the horses were baited, while Betty and
Mrs. Seymour gladly descended, and warmed themselves well by the kitchen
fire, taking a drink of warm milk, for which the good woman who had
invited them inside refused payment. She was deeply interested when Mrs.
Seymour told her of their errand, and followed them out to the door of
the coach, bringing with her own hands the soapstone which she had
carefully warmed for their feet, and she waved a kindly good-by as they
rode off, delighted at seeing, for the first time in her life, a
"pleasure coach."

The first night was spent by the travelers in Danbury, where they
proceeded to the house of Mrs. Seymour's cousin, Mrs. Beebe, and were
most warmly welcomed. The Beebe household, which consisted of Mrs. Beebe
and seven children (Captain Beebe being with the Connecticut Rangers),
trooped out, one and all, to meet them, to inspect the coach, interview
Caesar, and admire the horses. Billy, the second boy, fraternized with
Betty at once; and after learning all the mysteries of the coach
pockets, helping Caesar to unharness, and superintending the fetching of
an extra large log for the fireplace, he roasted chestnuts in the ashes
as they sat around the chimney-piece, and told Betty thrilling stories
of the attack on Danbury by the British.

"We dragged the feather-beds up to the window," said Billy, "and mother
stuffed a pillow or two in the cracks. My, how the bullets did fly! The
children were all bid to stay in the