ver, knew that he need fear no violence so long
as the British troops were in possession of the town. But, alas! it was
a bitter thought that he should leave no loving memory behind him. His
forefathers, long after their spirits left the earth, had been honored
in the affectionate remembrance of the people. But he, who would
henceforth be dead to his native land, would have no epitaph save
scornful and vindictive words. The old man wept.

"They curse me, they invoke all kinds of evil on my head!" thought he,
in the midst of his tears. "But, if they could read my heart, they would
know that I love New England well. Heaven bless her, and bring her again
under the rule of our gracious king! A blessing, too, on these poor,
misguided people!"

The chief justice flung out his hands with a gesture, as if he were
bestowing a parting benediction on his countrymen. He had now reached
the southern portion of the town, and was far within the range of
cannon-shot from the American batteries. Close beside him was the bread
stump of a tree, which appeared to have been recently cut down. Being
weary and heavy at heart, he was about to sit down upon the stump.

Suddenly it flashed upon his recollection that this was the stump of
Liberty Tree! The British soldiers had cut it down, vainly boasting
that they could as easily overthrow the liberties of America. Under its
shadowy branches, ten years before, the brother of Chief Justice Oliver
had been compelled to acknowledge the supremacy of the people by taking
the oath which they prescribed. This tree was connected with all the
events that had severed America from England.

"Accursed tree!" cried the chief justice, gnashing his teeth; for anger
overcame his sorrow. "Would that thou hadst been left standing till
Hancock, Adams, and every other traitor, were hanged upon thy branches!
Then fitly mightest thou have been hewn down and cast into the flames."

He turned back, hurried to Long Wharf without looking behind him,
embarked with the British troops for Halifax, and never saw his country
more. Throughout the remainder of his days Chief Justice Oliver was
agitated with those same conflicting emotions that had tortured him
while taking his farewell walk through the streets of Boston. Deep love
and fierce resentment burned in one flame within his breast, Anathemas
struggled with benedictions. He felt as if one breath of his native air
would renew his life, yet would have died rather than