ress, proudly pockets it, and
walks off, thankful because he carries his own on his head.

Would you like to know what General Washington thought about the
overthrow of the statue in Bowling Green?

We will turn to Phineas Porter's orderly-book, and copy from the
general orders for July 10, 1776, what he said to the soldiers about
it:

"The General doubts not the persons who pulled down and mutilated the
statue in the Broad-way last night were actuated by zeal in the public
cause, yet it has so much the appearance of riot and want of order in
the army, that he disapproves the manner and directs that in future
such things shall be avoided by the soldiers, and be left to be
executed by proper authority."

The same morning, the heavy ear of the king in his pocket, Blue-Eyed
Boy, once more on his pony, sets off to cross the ferry on his way to
Philadelphia. We leave him caught in the mazes of the Flying Camp
gathering at Amboy; whither by day and by night have been ferried over
from Staten Island, all the flocks of sheep and herds of cattle that
could be gotten away--lest the hungry men in red coats, coming up the
bay, seize upon and destroy them.

Ah! what days, what days and nights too were those for the young
United States to pass through!

To-day, we echo what somebody wrote somewhere, even then, amid all the
darkness--words we would gladly see on our banner's top-most fold:

"The United States! Bounded by the ocean and backed by the forest.
Whom hath she to fear but her God?"

SLEET AND SNOW.

Fourth of July, 1776.--Troublous times, that day? Valentine Kull
thought so, as he stood in a barn-yard, with a portion of his mother's
clothes line tied as tightly as he dared to tie it around the neck of
a calf. He was waiting for the bars to be let down by his sister. Anna
Kull thought the times decidedly troublous, as she pulled and pushed
and lifted to get the bars down.

"I can't do it, Valentine," she cried, her half-child face thrust
between the rails.

"Try again!"

She tried. Result as before.

"Come over, then, and hold Snow."

Anna went over, rending gown and apron on the roughnesses of rails and
haste. Never mind. She was over, and could, she thought, hold the
calf.

Barn-yard, cow (I forgot to mention that there was a cow); calf, and
children, one and all, were on Staten Island in the Bay and Province
of New York. Beside these, there was a house. It was so small, so
queer, so old-fashio