[Footnote 3: The elm-tree stood at the junction of Orange and Essex streets and Frog Lane, now Washington, Essex and Boylston streets. In 1766, upon the repeal of the Stamp Act, a large copper plate was nailed upon the tree with the following inscription: "This tree was planted in the year 1646 and pruned by the Order of the Sons of Liberty February 14, 1766." Other trees stood near it, furnishing a grateful shade. The locality before 1767 was known as Hanover Square, but after the repeal of the Stamp Act, as Liberty Hall. In August, 1767, a flagstaff was raised above its branches; the hoisting of a flag upon the staff was a signal for the assembling of the Sons of Liberty.] "Why do you call it the Liberty Tree?" "Because it is where the Sons of Liberty meet. It is a mighty fine tree, and, as near as we can make out, is more than one hundred years old. We hang the Pope there on Guy Fawkes' day, and traitors to liberty on other days." "I have heard you have jolly good times on Gunpowder Plot days." "You may believe we do. You would have laughed if you'd been here Gunpowder day seven years ago this coming November, when the Pope, Admiral Byng, Nancy Dawson,[4] and the Devil, all were found hanging on the old elm." [Footnote 4: Nancy Dawson, when a little girl, was employed in setting up skittles for players in High Street, Mary-le-bone, London. She was agile, graceful, and had an attractive figure. She first appeared as a dancer at Sadler's Wells theatre, where she soon attracted much attention, and in a short time became a great favorite. A rhymster wrote a song for her which was introduced (1764) into the play, "Love in a Valley." It was also arranged as a hornpipe for the harpsichord and sung by young ladies throughout England. Children sang it in the play, "Here we go round the Mulberry bush." The popularity of Nancy Dawson was at its height in 1769.] "I don't think I ever heard about Admiral Byng and Nancy Dawson." "Well, then, I must tell ye. Byng didn't fight the French and Spaniards at Minorca, but sailed away and sort o' showed the white feather, and so was court-martialed and shot on his own ship." "What did Nancy do?" "Oh, Nancy never did anything except kick up her heels; she's the best dancer in London, so they say. We haven't any theatre in this 'ere town, and don't have much dancing. We have the Thursday lecture instead." Robert wondered whether the allusion to the lecture was said soberly or in sarcasm. "In London they go wild over dancing. Maybe I might sing a song about her if ye would like to hear it." "I would like very much to hear it." Mr. Bushwick took the quid of tobacco from his mouth, cleared his throat, and sang,-- "'Of all the girls in our town, The black, the fair, the red, the brown, That dance and prance it up and down, There's none like Nancy Dawson.