“Here,” returned Mr. Hopkins, indicating the party of sunburnt young men before them. “Think you, sir, that we shall endure the heel of England upon our necks? You may be willing meekly to accept her abuse for the sake of the profit that will accrue from swallowing her insults, but we of the South are of a different mould.” “Your John Randolph is not so eager to voice your cry of free trade and sailor’s rights.” “But our Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun do voice it.” “Politics! Politics!” cried Lettice. “Just a short rest from them, Uncle Tom. Will you and Mr. Kendall partake of some refreshments, and leave politics till another time? It seems to me that you will find it vastly more agreeable to discuss a devilled crab. Uncle Tom, did you bring me any message from my father?” “His love, and he will see you before we are ordered off.” “Ordered off! Oh, Uncle Tom, you are really going to join the troops?” “Yes.” “What is the news from Canada, father?” Rhoda asked. “What might have been expected,” he returned; “Hull has surrendered.” “Oh, do you mean General William Hull?” “That’s the man.” Rhoda cast a triumphant glance at James who had joined them, and the lad flushed angrily. “Is that really true, or is it only a report?” he asked his uncle. “Too true,” he answered; “but,” laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “we shall have need of you yet, Jamie. We are disgusted, but not defeated, for another Hull has given us a glorious victory on the sea to offset our defeat on land.” “What’s that, sir? We haven’t heard the news yet.” “You might have heard it fast enough, if you had been a little nearer to Baltimore, for they fired salutes in honor of the news, and every ship in the harbor ran up her flag. Captain Isaac Hull has taken the _Guerrière_ as a prize into Boston, and the whole country is jubilant.” “The _Guerrière_? Dacres’s ship? Then Hull has won his hat,” James cried. “Hurrah for Hull and the old _Constitution_!” “What’s that about a hat?” Lettice asked. “Why, Dacres and Hull laid a wager of a hat, each declaring that he would whip the other if they ever met on the high seas, and old Hull has won.” And James struck up a song written by Mr. Francis Hopkinson and called “The Favorite New Federal Song,” although we know it now as “Hail Columbia.” “And you, sir?” said Lettice to Mr. Clinton, who, with a devilled crab in one hand and a sandwich in the other, was about to throw himself at her feet. “You, Mr. Clinton, what do you think of this war question?” “It’s all nonsense!” he exclaimed with an amused glance at her. “Surely, Miss Lettice, a pretty girl doesn’t need to bother her head about loans, taxes, navies, and war news.” Lettice regarded him gravely. “I am not so sure about that,” she rejoined. “I don’t really know all about it, but I don’t think the British have any right to steal our sailors.”