Very possibly, however, this slight exaggeration on the part of young Joe was due to the fact that he was very busy and therefore very warm. Not that he had anything of especial importance to do. Not always those who are busiest have the most to do; but you see there was a great deal to hear and see in Philadelphia town in the early days of July in the year 1776 and young Joe Nixon, like a true American boy, felt it his duty to be on hand when anything of importance was on foot. And so he was continually on the go between his uncle’s big house on the Water Street, the room of the Committee of Inspection on Second Street, the parade-ground of the “Quaker Blues” on the city common, and the big brick State House on Chestnut Street. For young Joe Nixon was a privileged character and duly felt his importance. His uncle, Mr. John Nixon, was a member of the Committee of Safety, and better still, young Joe was a particular favorite of Mr. David Rittenhouse who “had charge of the public clock in the State House Square.” This put him on good terms with a still more influential acquaintance--the doorkeeper of the Continental Congress, then in daily session in the Assembly chamber of the State House. Young Joe was a quick-witted lad and like all the rest of the race of boys dearly loved to watch and listen even though he could not always understand. Seated by the side of his friend the doorkeeper, he found it very interesting and sometimes highly exciting to follow the proceedings of the bewigged and earnest gentlemen who were talking, discussing, and sometimes getting quite angry with one another on the floor of the Congress. Joe only knew in a general sort of way what all this talk and discussion meant. But one thing he was certain of, as were all the boys and girls in the colonies--and that was that there was a “jolly row” on hand between the colonies and the King. He knew, too, that, away off toward Boston-town there had been two or three fights with the King’s soldiers, in which the troops of the colonies by no means had the worst of it. And he knew, most of all, that it was mightily hard just now for a boy to get hold of anything new or nice to eat or to wear or to play with and that, somehow, this was all the fault of King George the Third, and that the colonies did not propose to stand this sort of thing any longer. So he had made the most of his acquaintance with the doorkeeper of the Congress and had witnessed most of the important events that had taken place during that lovely Philadelphia June.