nam.

"The people of this town threw the tea into the dock, and now they
must pay for it. Those that dance must settle with the fiddler," Small
replied.

"Not one penny will we ever pay. Parliament and the king have closed
the port, bringing distress upon the community; but it has awakened
the sympathies of the country from Passamaquoddy to Savannah. Now,
Small, you are an old soldier, and so am I; we have smelled gunpowder,
and can afford to talk plainly. You are here, five thousand or more,
with several thousand additional troops just ready to sail from
England. You have come to overawe us by force of arms. You have
changed the charter of this Province; if this, why not all the others?
Why do you do it? I say you, for you represent the king; you do it
because you are determined to make the Colonies subservient to the
crown. You cannot bear to have us manufacture anything this side of
the sea, and are determined to make us your milch cow. Let me tell you
that you won't succeed. You do not know the spirit of the people. Let
one drop of blood be shed by the troops, and a mighty host of armed
men will close around you. I know you can fight, and so can we; if you
don't think so, try it."

"Ha, ha! Put, you are the same old flint, ever ready to strike fire.
We won't quarrel now. Come, let us step down to the Bunch of Grapes,
have a glass of wine, and talk over old times."

Arm in arm they walked down King Street to the tavern.

Early the following afternoon Miss Newville was welcomed to the
Brandon home.

"It is a long time since we have met," she said, reaching out her hand
to Robert. "I am pleased to see you once more. I hope you are well.
And how is Rachel?"

Many times he had thought of her as he last beheld her, standing
beneath the portico of her home in the radiant light of the moon. Her
parting words had been an abiding memory--"Good-by, till we meet
again." Once more her hand was resting in his. She was no longer a
girl, but entering upon womanhood. He told the reason of his being
there, to bring the gift of Rumford to the suffering poor. She had
many questions to ask about Rachel. Was she still making cheese? Had
she many flowers?

"I suppose Rachel's brother prepares the flowerbeds as in former
years," she said, laughing.

"Yes, I spaded them for her."

"Berinthia informs me that she has found her true love."

"So it appears."

"I doubt not she is very happy."

"She seems to be; she is singing