me of those songs, Miss Ruth? Now, if you
could, I should admire to hear them," said Farmer Withely.

[Illustration: THE BIG HORSE TROTTED DOWN THE STREET]

"Yes, indeed! I remember every one," said Ruth, and when she began Mrs.
Hastings' song, Farmer Withely found that it was one he too used to sing
as a boy on far-off May-days, and so they sang it together, their voices
falling pleasantly on the sweet spring air.

Then Ruth ventured to ask if Farmer Withely had ever seen General
Washington, or, perhaps, young Lafayette?

"Indeed I have. My best gray horse has now the honor of belonging to
General Washington, and many a cold journey have I taken to carry food
to the soldiers at Valley Forge," responded Farmer Withely, and he went
on to tell of the unfaltering courage of the American soldiers through
the hardships at the camp.

He told of young Lafayette's recent return to Valley Forge from Albany,
and of his devotion to the American cause. Ruth listened eagerly to all
he had to tell her, and the miles slipped away behind them, and when
Farmer Withely pointed toward the old church, which stood near the
summit of Barren Hill, and said that they had nearly reached their
journey's end, Ruth declared that it had been a very pleasant journey,
and Farmer Withely said he would like just such a passenger every day.

Aunt Deborah Farleigh was at the gate to welcome her little niece, and
then Ruth had to be taken and introduced to the bees, and to see two
brown calves in the barnyard, and a flock of fine chickens. After that
it was nearly dusk and supper was ready, and it was not until Ruth took
her seat at the table that she remembered her real errand to Barren
Hill.

"Aunt Deborah, the English have not captured Lafayette, have they?" she
asked earnestly.

For once Aunt Deborah was startled from her usual calmness.

"For pity's sake, child! What dost thou mean?" she responded. "I have
heard naught of such a thing."

Ruth gave a sigh of relief. "I just wanted to be sure," she replied.

CHAPTER XX

LAFAYETTE'S VISIT

The May sun streamed warmly into the big square chamber where Ruth
slept, and she awoke to the song of birds, and the fragrance of
blossoming lilacs.

For a few moments she lay quite still, looking wonderingly about the
room. It seemed a "shining" room to Ruth, with its whitewashed walls,
and its smooth polished floor, and only a chest of drawers, a
light-stand and a rush-bottomed chair for f