=Historical Note.= This letter was addressed to George Clinton, governor of New York from 1777-1795. Washington appealed to Clinton because of the abilities and resources of New York and also because the governor’s zeal as a patriot was well known. At the same time Washington addressed a similar letter to the inhabitants of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, urging the farmers to provide cattle for the use of the army. He assures them of a bountiful price as well as the knowledge that they have rendered most essential service to the illustrious cause of their country. =Discussion.= 1. Read in your history text what is said about the winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge. 2. How do the methods of conserving food for the army in Washington’s time compare with those of our own time? 3. How does Washington hope to avert a terrible crisis? 4. Pronounce the following: incomparable; catastrophe; adequate; precarious. =Phrases= fall within your province, 393, 2 zealous exertions, 393, 5 with respect to futurity, 393, 8 incomparable patience, 393, 14 excited to mutiny and dispersion, 393, 15 symptoms of discontent, 393, 16 avert so shocking a catastrophe, 393, 18 adequate relief hereafter, 393, 21 the magazines provided, 393, 21 crisis must ensue, 394, 7 SONG OF MARION’S MEN WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT Our band is few, but true and tried, Our leader frank and bold; The British soldier trembles When Marion’s name is told. Our fortress is the good greenwood, Our tent the cypress-tree; We know the forest round us, As seamen know the sea. We know its walls of thorny vines, Its glades of reedy grass, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear; When waking to their tents on fire They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again; And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil; We talk the battle over, And share the battle’s spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier’s cup. With merry songs we mock the wind That in the pine-top grieves, And slumber long and sweetly, On beds of oaken leaves. Well knows the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads— The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. ’Tis life our fiery barbs to guide Across the moonlight plains; ’Tis life to feel the night-wind That lifts their tossing manes. A moment in the British camp— A moment—and away Back to the pathless forest, Before the peep of day.