s of his auditors for a very terrible event. It
was one that did more to heighten the quarrel between England and America,
than any thing that had yet occurred.

Without further preface, Grandfather began the story of

THE BOSTON MASSACRE

It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset music of the British
regiments was heard, as usual, throughout the town. The shrill fife and
rattling drum awoke the echoes in King Street, while the last ray of
sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the town-house. And now, all the
sentinels were posted. One of them marched up and down before the
custom-house, treading a short path through the snow, and longing for the
time when he would be dismissed to the warm fire-side of the guard-room.
Meanwhile, Captain Preston was perhaps sitting in our great chair, before
the hearth of the British Coffee House. In the course of the evening,
there were two or three slight commotions, which seemed to indicate that
trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men stood at the corners of
the streets, or walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers, who
were dismissed from duty, passed by them, shoulder to shoulder, with the
regular step which they had learned at the drill. Whenever these
encounters took place, it appeared to be the object of the young men to
treat the soldiers with as much incivility as possible.

"Turn out, you lobster-backs!" one would say. "Crowd them off the
side-walks!" another would cry. "A red-coat has no right in Boston
streets."

"Oh, you rebel rascals!" perhaps the soldiers would reply, glaring
fiercely at the young men. "Some day or other, we'll make our way through
Boston streets, at the point of the bayonet!"

Once or twice, such disputes as these brought on a scuffle; which passed
off, however, without attracting much notice. About eight o'clock, for
some unknown cause, an alarm bell rang loudly and hurriedly.

At the sound, many people ran out of their houses, supposing it to be an
alarm of fire. But there were no flames to be seen; nor was there any
smell of smoke in the clear, frosty air; so that most of the townsmen went
back to their own fire-sides, and sat talking with their wives and
children about the calamities of the times. Others, who were younger and
less prudent, remained in the streets; for there seems to have been a
presentiment that some strange event was on the eve of taking place.

Later in the evening, not far from nine o'clock,