er. "Oh, yes. We've all fought
Indians in our day. But, thank God, that day's passed. What we want now
is a chance to rest in quiet, and try our hands at writing, and singing,
and painting, like other civilized people." He saw that some other
guests were arriving, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come,
James. You and I don't care to go salute the ladies just yet. Let's find
a place in the garden and have a talk."

They went down a gravel path and turned in to the rose-garden. A bench
invited them to rest. Captain Kent sat down, and drawing a gilded
snuff-box from his waistcoat-pocket, offered it to the boy. "The very
best rappee," he said.

James Cooper shook his head. "I don't like snuff, sir. I'd rather smoke
a pipe."

Captain Kent took snuff and flicked the grains from his coat with his
handkerchief. "Tut, tut, young man, if you're to be a man of fashion,
and I misdoubt your father's son could be ought else, you must like what
the fashion likes. The gentlemen of St. James' Palace still take snuff,
and never are seen smoking pipes, like some of our clumsy Dutchmen over
here."

"But St. James' Palace is in London, and we're free from England now."

"Quite so, my good sir. But our fashions still come from across the
seas."

"And what is a man of fashion?" asked the boy.

Captain Kent smiled. "Ah, so you are concerned? Good! Well, I am a man
of fashion, and so are those two friends of mine who just entered your
hall. A man of fashion has a discriminating taste in wines and foods. He
knows what colors go in harmony, how to draw his sword in any matter of
honor, how to tread a minuet--oh, yes, and how to write verses to his
lady's eyes."

The Captain put his hand in the pocket of his coat and drew out several
folded sheets of paper. He spread them out on his knee. "Do you know
Miss Betty Cosgrove?" he asked.

The boy nodded. "Yes, indeed. She lives very near us, and always gives
me plum-cake when I go there with messages from mother."

"Ah, she does!" exclaimed Kent, as though greatly struck and charmed by
the idea. "Well, Mr. James Cooper, I have written some verses in her
honor, hoping I might offer them to her here this afternoon. I'll read
them to you."

"She's indoors," said the boy. "I saw her come."

"Quite so. But I hope to lure her out here later, and I want to rehearse
the verses. What do you think of this?"

The young man held the paper before him, and read from it. Every few
lines he w