across the ocean, the
anger of the King was aroused, and he sent a strong force of soldiers to
Boston to bring the rebels to terms. This act only increased the spirit
of patriotism that burned in the breasts of all Americans.

[Illustration:]

George P. Morris, the poet, describes this Tea Party, and the origin of
the tune "Yankee Doodle," in the following verses, which our American
boys and girls of to-day will gladly read and sing:

Once on a time old Johnny Bull flew in a raging fury,
And swore that Jonathan should have no trials, sir, by jury;
That no elections should be held, across the briny waters;
"And now," said he, "I'll tax the tea of all his sons and daughters."
Then down he sate in burly state, and blustered like a grandee,
And in derision made a tune called "Yankee doodle dandy."
"Yankee doodle"--these are facts--"Yankee doodle dandy;"
My son of wax, your tea I'll tax; you Yankee doodle dandy!"

John sent the tea from o'er the sea, with heavy duties rated;
But whether hyson or bohea, I never heard it stated.
Then Jonathan to pout began--he laid a strong embargo--
"I'll drink no tea, by Jove!" so he threw overboard the cargo.
Then Johnny sent a regiment, big words and looks to bandy,
Whose martial band, when near the land, played "Yankee doodle dandy."
"Yankee doodle--keep it up--Yankee doodle dandy--
I'll poison with a tax your cup, you Yankee doodle dandy."

A long war then they had, in which John was at last defeated,
And "Yankee Doodle" was the march to which his troops retreated.
Cute Jonathan, to see them fly, could not restrain his laughter;
"That tune," said he, "suits to a T--I'll sing it ever after!"
Old Johnny's face, to his disgrace, was flushed with beer and brandy,
E'en while he swore to sing no more this Yankee doodle dandy.
Yankee doodle,--ho-ha-he--Yankee doodle dandy,
We kept the tune, but not the tea--Yankee doodle dandy.

I've told you now the origin of this most lively ditty,
Which Johnny Bull dislikes as "dull and stupid"--what a pity!
With "Hail Columbia" it is sung, in chorus full and hearty--
On land and main we breathe the strain John made for his tea party,
No matter how we rhyme the words, the music speaks them handy,
And where's the fair can't sing the air of