ndness given us while we
were under its rule. They explained that we did not seek this change. It
was only because it was the King's wish that we were willing to accept
the plan. Then they begged the Court for the benefit of its prayers and
blessing in this separation. Sam said that it was all very solemn.
Uncle," David continued, after a pause, "I kept feeling all day long,
'This is my New Hampshire!'"

THE BOWL OF BROTH

One September day Mrs. Elizabeth Heard opened the door of her house on
the Cocheco River, in Dover, and first looking cautiously about, a habit
bred by fear of lurking Indians, stepped out with a bowl of hot broth,
which she was about to carry to a neighbor who was ill.

The Heard house was a garrison with a protecting wall built about it, the
gate of which, Mrs. Heard at this moment noticed had been carelessly left
open. A few months of peaceful living had caused the younger members of
the family to grow careless of the once needed caution. Now about to pass
through this gateway the quick movement of a shadow beyond the well,
caught her eye. Bravely approaching the spot, she discovered, crouching
there, a young Indian whose face instantly told more of fear than of
daring. Instinctively her mother-heart felt sorry for him, and she
offered him the bowl of hot broth. He drank it eagerly and then begged
her to hide him. Without a moment's hesitation, she led him to the garret
of her house and there in a corner concealed him under a pile of
blankets. It was fortunate for her scheme that her family of ten, five
boys and five girls, was off on a fishing trip.

Later, on their return, they brought the news of a large capture of
Indians made in the town that day. Mrs. Heard said nothing of the one
then hidden under their own roof.

After the children had been tucked into bed, and she had made the rounds
of the rooms to be sure that all were sleeping, she crept to the garret
and signaled to the Indian that his moment of escape had come.
Noiselessly and swiftly he made his way out.

Some thirteen years passed, and the children of the Heard family were
well grown. One June day in 1689, Mrs. Heard, three of her sons, a
daughter and some friends, had taken a river trip to Portsmouth and were
returning by night. As they approached Dover, where their home still
stood, they heard many unusual sounds.

"I fear the Indians may be in the town, Benjamin," remarked Mrs. Heard to
her oldest son, with some a