lander, He has by
his unexceptionable deportment engaged my esteem."--Lucky Major!

All too soon for the girls at the farm came a command from head-quarters
that the Army was to march on to Whitemarsh, and the soldiers' two weeks
of playtime was over. On the day before the leave-taking, Liddy, Betsey
and Sally, the latter dressed in a white muslin gown, a big bonnet, and
long gloves, started down the garden path to take a walk. On the porch
stood two officers watching the retreating figures. One was the Major of
Sally's fancy, the other a Major Leatherberry, of whom she tersely says,
"He is a sensible fellow who will not swing for want of a tongue!"

In describing the incident, Sally says, "As we left the house, I
naturally looked back (of course you did, little coquette) when behold,
the two majors came fast after us, and begged leave to attend us. No
fear of a refusal!" she adds, and together the four young people rambled
through the woodland, flaming with autumn tints, by the bank of the
overflowing Wissahickon, and Sally says that they shortened the way with
lively conversation, and that nothing happened that was not entirely
consistent with the strictest rules of politeness and decorum, but tells
of pouting when Major Stoddard tried to console her for tearing her
muslin petticoat, and of flouting Major Leatherberry, when noticing the
locket against her white throat, he gallantly quoted:

"On her white neck a sparkling cross she wore,
That Jews might kiss or infidels adore,"

but remarks that as a whole the little excursion was full of delights
for each one of the party, and it was the last good time they had
together for several weeks, as the farewell came on the next day. Sally
and the Major seem to have felt the parting keenly, and Sally
acknowledges to Debby, "I am sorry, for when you have been with
agreeable people, 'tis impossible not to feel regret when they bid you
adieu, perhaps forever. When they leave us we shall be immurred in
solitude," adding tersely, "The Major looks dull."--Poor Major!

Later she adds, "It seems strange not to see our house as it used to be.
We are very still. No rattling of waggons, glittering of musquets. The
beating of the distant drum is all we hear."

The journal records no other item of special interest for several weeks,
except the arrival of two Virginia officers, which somewhat cheers
Sally, although she describes them in none too glowing terms. She