as they pleased, regardless
of the people. Two, whom he had seen drinking toddy in the Admiral
Vernon, swayed against him.
"Hello, clodhopper! How's yer dad and marm?" said one.
Robert felt the hot blood mount to his brow.
"Say, bumpkin, how did ye get away from your ma's apron-string?" said
the other.
"He hasn't got the pluck of a goslin," said the first.
Robert set his teeth together, but made no reply, and walked away. He
felt like pitching them headforemost into the dock, and was fearful he
might do something which, in cooler blood, he would wish he had not
done.
By what right were they strolling the streets of an orderly town?
Those who supported the king said they were there to maintain the
dignity of the crown. True, a mob had battered the door of Thomas
Hutchinson, but that had been settled. The people were quiet, orderly,
law-abiding. The sentinel by the Town House glared at him as he walked
up King Street, as if ready to dispute his right to do so. He saw a
bookstore on the corner of the street, and with a light heart entered
it. A tall, broad-shouldered young man welcomed him.
"May I look at your books?" Robert asked.
"Certainly; we have all those recently published in London, and a
great many pamphlets printed here in the Colonies," the young man
replied.
"I live in the country. We do not have many books in New Hampshire,"
said Robert.
"Oh, from New Hampshire? Please make yourself at home, and look at any
book you please. My name is Henry Knox,"[16] said the young man.
[Footnote 16: Mr. Knox was clerk in the bookstore kept by Daniel
Henchman. In 1773 he began business on his own account on Cornhill now
Washington Street, upon the site now occupied by the _Globe_
newspaper. His store was frequented by the officers of the regiments,
and doubtless he obtained from them information that he turned to good
account during the war.]
"I am Robert Walden."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walden, and shall be glad
to render you any service in my power. Is this your first visit to
town?"
Robert said it was. He could only gaze in wonder at the books upon the
shelves. He had not thought there could be so many in the world. Mr.
Knox saw the growing look of astonishment.
"What can I show you? Perhaps you do not care for sermons. We have a
good many; ministers like to see their sermons in print. I think
perhaps you will like this better," said Mr. Knox, taking down a copy
of
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