id," was his parting command. "Do not miss a
thing. And David," he added, impressively, placing his hand on the boy's
shoulder, "Remember always that this is your New Hampshire." Then he
counted the hours for the boy's return.

When David reached the town he found three other boys of his own age
eagerly watching for a sight of the gentlemen attending the Assembly.
Choosing an advantageous spot on the roadside, David and his companions
swung themselves to the low, spreading branches of an oak, where they
patiently waited.

"Here they come," called Sam Cutt, who had already seen these gentlemen
arrive at his father's house.

As the solemn procession of representatives from New Hampshire's four
small towns passed on their way to the meeting-house, David slid from
his branch to the ground and in an erect position bared his head and
held his hat to his heart until they had passed.

"Oh, see the sissy!" cried one boy from the tree, pointing to David, when
the riders had moved along. David's face flushed, but with unusual
self-command he replied.

"Did you not know that those men are taking care of our province, which
is yet very small, and that this is for us all a very serious and
important meeting that they are attending?"

The surprised boys who had expected to see David slink away, slid down
from the branches, caught with interest in what he continued to tell them
of town and even state affairs. They asked questions which he could
answer. "Now I tell you," he added with authority, "you must remember
always that this is your New Hampshire." David's knowledge of his country
had so deeply impressed and interested the boys that, when the General
Assembly adjourned, four hatless lads stood in respect as the members
passed, who honored them with a salute.

When, at the close of the day, David reached home he threw off his coat
and warmed his hands by the fire exclaiming.

"You should have seen the dignified gentlemen, uncle. There were a dozen
or more of them who rode from Mr. Cutt's estate to the meeting-house.
They wore fine clothes, and swords at their sides, and shining buckles on
their shoes and knee bands. The Rev. Mr. Moody preached a sermon to them
after he had offered a long prayer. Then the gentlemen voted to write a
letter to the General Court of Massachusetts. Sam Cutt told me all about
it. He had asked his father what had happened there. And, uncle, in this
letter they thanked the Court for the care and ki