turns on our place; and sometimes in the
harvest days, when many hands were needed out doors, and I was not
helping my mother in spinning the flax, I was set on the lookout. Those
were days when the stoutest heart among us would quail at times, for
danger and horror were on every side; and I--well, I was none of the
bravest. But on the days when Harold knew I would be most likely put on
guard he would contrive so as to have his work near the house, and so
watch over me. In order to do so he would rise before the rest, and
going alone in his far corner of the field,--his only defence a faithful
dog, and a trusty rifle over which the dog kept watch while his master
worked,--he would finish his field labor for the day by the time I was
ready for my task. It was a mutual understanding between himself and my
father that this should be; and I think that while my parents feared for
the boy's safety they were proud of his courage that dared so much for
love.

"Well, we grew as children grow, through war and peace, through storm
and calm. And when the first gun of independence was fired on Bunker
Hill my father and brothers armed themselves and joined the numbers
there. Two of my brothers were killed outright in their first encounter
with Gage's men. In the third battle another was taken prisoner, and
with four others tried for 'treason against the king,' and shot. My
mother was a type of the bravest women of that period, but I thought she
would have died then, for he was her eldest born, upon whom she had
always looked with pride.

"I was eighteen then, and my heart and hands were full; but so were
those of many another woman. In that time girls were _women_ and boys
were _men_; it was needed so, you may be sure. Well, after a while the
struggle was over, you know, and they came home,--father, Robert,
George, and Hal. We were expecting them, and stood at the door
watching,--mother and I. And then--and then--we saw them coming, not in
triumph, as we expected, but slowly, a mournful little procession. We
saw father, Robert, and George, and a few neighbors, and they were
bearing a burden we could not see.

"They came nearer, and then I heard mother's awful shriek, that rings in
my dreams even now; but I stood there still; all my heart seemed turned
to stone. 'Seven wounds,' I heard them say, 'and the last was mortal.' O
Harry, my boy--my boy! He looked up and smiled faintly, as they bore him
past me into this very room, and la