The reader will now be good enough to accompany the General up Broadway, towards Hester Street, in the Bowery, then one of the extreme streets yet built in New York, and near the spot where the British landed on 16th September, 1776, to occupy the city. It was close to the place where St. Mark's Church now stands; and at that date was marked by the existence of the house of the last Dutch Governor of New York, built of yellow brick, imported from Holland, now unfortunately destroyed. In Hester Street lived Mrs. Douglas, the young wife of as brave a subaltern of Artillery as ever stepped. The General had just received a despatch from Sir Henry Clinton, then engaged in operations up the Hudson, in which young Douglas's bravery, coolness, and skill had been mentioned in the highest terms. Before writing to his subaltern to express the satisfaction he derived from such a report, the General hastened to tell the good news to Mrs. Douglas; thus killing two birds with one stone, for it enabled him to add to his letter a postscript which he knew young Douglas would value, giving all the latest news from his home. It was this thoughtfulness which endeared him to his officers; it is from such little data as this that the student learns how loveable as well as able this gallant officer was. The day shall come—and not so far distant—when the General shall stop in the same street at a door not much farther on, but his face shall be sad, and his step slow, as he mounts the staircase to tell of a young husband lying under the turf near Charlestown, wounded to death in the battle, and dying with his wife's name on his lips, and love for her in his glazing eye. As he enters the room, there shall be that in his face which a woman's wit shall too quickly read, and the cry of a broken heart shall echo on the old man's ears for years to come!