Quebec."

"And my father's men are going to take Quebec away from him for the King
of England."

"Your father's leader is General Wolfe," said the Doctor, smiling.

"Oh, yes, I know--General Wolfe," said Phil, eagerly. "But, I say, Dr
Martin, shan't we be able to go back to the house--I'm getting so
hungry?"

"No; I'm afraid we must not go back to the house again."

"But all our things are there."

"Yes, all our clothes, and my books."

"But what about dinner?" cried Phil.

"Ah, to be sure," said the old man, smiling, "what about dinner! You
see, Phil," he continued, as he looked about in all directions over the
open country, "your father said we were to get right away from the
fighting, and after it was over he would come and join us."

"Yes, I know," said the boy.

"Well, we should have had to start to-night, or to-morrow, so it only
means that we have come away in a hurry and meet him all the sooner."

"To be sure," said the boy, eagerly.

"You won't mind going without your dinner?"

"Of course not," cried Phil, stoutly.

"And if we have to sleep in a barn or shed somewhere to-night instead of
a comfortable bed, you won't mind that either, will you?"

"Not a bit," cried Phil. "Let's sleep in the forest, and cut down
boughs and pick leaves for a bed. It would be fun. I should like it."

"To be sure you would."

"Wouldn't you, Dr Martin?"

"That I should, my boy," cried the Doctor, who was still eagerly
searching the fields and meadows broken up by patches of forest. "Look
here, Phil; we want to get away, as your father wishes, from all this
terrible war, so we'll put all lessons aside and think of nothing but
making this a holiday excursion amongst the fields and woods; and when
we get tired we'll sit down on a tree trunk and rest, and if the sun is
too hot we will have a nap in the shade. Sometimes we shall be
thirsty."

"And then we'll lie down on the bank of a river and drink," cried Phil,
clapping his hands.

"To be sure--drink the beautiful clear water. We can sleep, too, in the
fir woods. The soft fir needles make a beautiful aromatic bed."

"What's aromatic?" said Phil, with his eyes sparkling.

"Sweet-scented and spicy."

"I shall like that," cried the boy; "only won't the fir needles prick
when we undress?"

"But we shan't undress, my boy."

"What fun! Father will laugh when I tell him by and by. But you don't
say a word about what we are to eat, Dr Martin?"

"Oh,