ok the children and Betty to see
the battle at Fort Hill. The British had intrenched themselves with
forts and breastworks and had their colors flying. It really had been
hard work to enlist men or boys in this army. No one likes to go into a
fight with the foregone conclusion that he is to be beaten. But they
were to do their best, and they did it. The elders went out to see the
fun. The rebels directed all their energies to the capture of one fort
instead of opening fire all along the line, and by dusk they had
succeeded in demolishing that, when the troops on both sides were
summoned home to supper and to comfortable beds, an innovation not laid
down in the rules of warfare.

Little James had been fired with military ardor. Cousin Sam was the
leader of one detachment of the rebel forces. Catch him anywhere but on
the winning side!

Doris had been much interested as well, and that evening Uncle Leverett
told them stories about Boston thirty years before. He was a young man
of three-and-twenty when Paul Revere swung his lantern to give the
alarm. He could only touch lightly upon what had been such solemn
earnest to the men of that time, the women as well.

"I'm going to be a soldier," declared James, with all the fervor of his
youthful years. "But you can't ever be, Doris."

"No," answered Doris softly, squeezing Uncle Leverett's hand in both of
hers. "But there isn't any war."

"Yes there is--over in France and England, and ever so many places. My
father was reading about it. And if there wasn't any war here, couldn't
we go and fight for some other country?"

"I hope there will never be war in your time, Jimmie, boy," said his
grandmother. "And it is bedtime for little people."

"Why does it come bedtime so soon?" in a deeply aggrieved tone. "When I
am a big man I am going to sit up clear till morning. And I'll tell my
grandchildren all night long how I fought in the wars."

"That is looking a long way ahead," returned grandfather.

Besides the lessons, Doris was writing a letter to Miss Arabella. That
lady would have warmly welcomed any little scrawl in Doris' own hand.
Uncle Winthrop had acknowledged her safe arrival in good health, and
enlarged somewhat on the pleasant home she had found with her relatives.
Betty had overlooked the little girl's letter and made numerous
corrections, and she had copied and thought of some new things and
copied it over again. She had added a little French verse also.

"De