once turned out, they seemed so ludicrously weak that they felt themselves only a handful. There were a few British soldiers in red coats, but the defenders that made their way to York along the shores of Lake Ontario were a motley throng. There was no pretence at uniforms, nor was there indeed during the war, or very little of it. Let us realize if we can that these poor fellows had to walk along the lake shore. Here and there only were roads to be found cut out of the dense dark forest and back from the lake shore. Very few were fortunate enough to possess boats or canoes in which to row or paddle to York. Some, however, were able to adopt this mode of transit, and thereby hangs a tale. On one occasion a party of militiamen, accompanied by one or two soldiers--among them a drummer--were to be seen with their boats ashore, one of their craft being turned bottom upwards, and having the carcase of a fine porker “spread-eagled,” as sailors say, on either side of the keel. It appears that on their way to York the party had “commandeered” a pig they had come across, and being sharply pursued by its owner, they had taken this means of concealing their booty. No one thought of pulling the boat out of the water and turning it up to find the pig. At the same time they had requisitioned a fine fat goose, wrung its neck, and were carrying it away. In this case, with the pursuers at heel, the task of hiding the loot had fallen to the drummer. He speedily arranged matters by unheading his drum and placing the coveted bird inside, and the story goes that on the favorable opportunity arriving, both pig and goose formed the basis of an excellent feast on the lake shore, in which, if tradition is to be believed, one officer, at least, joined with considerable readiness. Roger joined the rank and file of the militia, but afterwards, having blooded and fleet saddle-horses in his stables on Lake Ontario shore in Darlington, the commanding officers employed him as a despatch bearer. In turn in the militia and then as despatch bearer, when nothing seemed doing, his time was fully occupied at the business of war. He was then sixty-two years of age, but so pressed were the authorities for men, that age did not debar from service, but physical inability only.