ilded foliage and
lion's head of our old chair. The second event was the proclamation, in
the same year, of George the Third as king of Great Britain. The blast of
the trumpet sounded from the balcony of the Town House, and awoke the
echoes far and wide, as if to challenge all mankind to dispute King
George's title.

Seven times, as the successive monarchs of Britain ascended the throne,
the trumpet-peal of proclamation had been heard by those who sat in our
venerable chair. But, when the next king put on his father's crown, no
trumpet-peal proclaimed it to New England! Long before that day, America
had shaken off the royal government.

Chapter XI

Now that Grandfather had fought through the Old French War, in which our
chair made no very distinguished figure, he thought it high time to tell
the children some of the more private history of that praiseworthy old
piece of furniture.

"In 1757," said Grandfather, "after Shirley had been summoned to England,
Thomas Pownall was appointed governor of Massachusetts. He was a gay and
fashionable English gentleman, who had spent much of his life in London,
but had a considerable acquaintance with America. The new governor appears
to have taken no active part in the war that was going on; although, at
one period, he talked of marching against the enemy, at the head of his
company of cadets. But, on the whole, he probably concluded that it was
more befitting a governor to remain quietly in our chair, reading the
newspapers and official documents."

"Did the people like Pownall?" asked Charley.

"They found no fault with him," replied Grandfather. "It was no time to
quarrel with the governor, when the utmost harmony was required, in order
to defend the country against the French. But Pownall did not remain long
in Massachusetts. In 1759, he was sent to be governor of South Carolina.
In thus exchanging one government for another, I suppose he felt no
regret, except at the necessity of leaving Grandfather's chair behind
him."

"He might have taken it to South Carolina," observed Clara.

"It appears to me," said Laurence, giving the rein to his fancy, "that the
fate of this ancient chair was, somehow or other, mysteriously connected
with the fortunes of old Massachusetts. If Governor Pownall had put it
aboard the vessel in which he sailed for South Carolina, she would
probably have lain wind-bound in Boston harbor. It was ordained that the
chair should not be taken a