Last night was stole away from me A likely jet-black mare was she Just four years old this month or nigh, About fourteen and half hands high; She’s in good order and doth trot, And paceth some, I’m sure of that; Is wondrous pretty; a small star In her forehead there doth appear; Her tail was waved three days ago Just like her mane, you’ll find it so; Above her eyes, if you come near, She’s very hollow, that is clear; She has new fore shoes on, this I know— I had her shod a week ago. The above reward it will be sure To any person that secures Said thief and mare, that I may see My mare again restor’d to me. Or Fifty Dollars for the mare, If the thief should happen to get clear; All traveling charges if brought home Upon the nail I will pay down. “There!” declared Robert Dale when the two had completed their labor. “There will be no more elegant effusion in the paper. ’Tis finely writ and to the point. I’ll take it at once to Mr. Dunlap, so that he may put it into Saturday’s ‘Packet.’ If that doesn’t fetch your mare back, Peggy, I don’t know what will.” CHAPTER IV—A GIRL’S SACRIFICE “In Being’s floods, in Action’s storm, I walk and work, above, beneath, Work and weave in endless motion! Birth and Death, An infinite ocean; A seizing and giving The fire of living: ’Tis thus at the roaring Loom of Time I ply, And weave for God the Garment thou seest Him by.” —“Faust,” Gœthe. “Thee is troubled, mother,” observed Peggy as she and Mrs. Owen left the yard of Christ Church where they had been attending morning service. The meeting-house which was built for the use of those Quakers who had so far departed from the tenets of the Society of Friends as to array themselves on the side of their country had not yet been erected, and the Free Quakers, as they were called, were therefore compelled to attend worship of other churches, or content themselves with “religious retirement,” as family service was called. “I am, Peggy,” answered the lady a look of anxiety overcasting her face. “Let us walk for a little before returning home. It may be that the air will soothe my feelings.” Seeing that her mother wished to be left in quiet the girl walked sedately by her side, ever and anon stealing a glance of apprehension at the lady’s face. Presently Mrs. Owen spoke: “Tis naught to make thee look so uneasy, child. I am concerned over the city, and the extravagance that abounds on every side. See the ferment that it is in! Formerly on First Day the streets were orderly and quiet. Now observe what a noisy throng fills the thoroughfares. Let us walk on. Perchance at Wicaco we may find the peace and quiet we seek.”