Now up and down, throughout the town Most frantic scenes were acted; And some ran here, and others there, Like men almost distracted. Some fire cry'd, which some deny'd, But said the earth had quaked; And girls and boys, with hideous noise, Ran thro' the streets half naked. _Sir William_ he, snug as a flea, Lay all this time a snoring; Nor dream'd of harm as he lay warm In bed with Mrs. Loring. Now in a fright, he starts upright, Awaked by such a clatter; He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries, "For God's sake, what's the matter?" At his bedside he then espy'd, _Sir Erskine_ at command, Sir; Upon one foot he had one boot, And t' other in his hand, Sir. "Arise, arise," _Sir Erskine_ cries, "The rebels--more's the pity-- Without a boat, are all afloat, And rang'd before the city. "The motley crew, in vessels new, With Satan for their guide, Sir, Pack'd up in bags, and wooden kegs, Come driving down the tide, Sir. "Therefore prepare for bloody war; These kegs must all be routed; Or surely we dispis'd shall be, And British valor doubted." The royal band now ready stand, All ranged in dread array, Sir, On every slip, on every ship, For to begin the fray, Sir. The cannons roar from shore to shore; The small-arms loud did rattle; Since wars began I'm sure no man E'er saw so strange a battle. The _rebel_ dales, the _rebel_ vales, With _rebel_ trees surrounded, The distant woods, the hills and floods, With _rebel_ echoes sounded. The fish below swam to and fro, Attack'd from every quarter; Why, sure (thought they), the De'il's to pay 'Mong folks above the water. The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made Of _rebel_ staves and hoops, Sir, Could not oppose their pow'rful foes, The conq'ering British troops, Sir. From morn to night these men of might Display'd amazing courage; And when the sun was fairly down, Retired to sup their porridge. A hundred men, with each a pen, Or more, upon my word, Sir, It is most true, would be too few, Their valor to record, Sir. Such feats did they perform that day Against these wicked kegs, Sir, That years to come, _if they get home_, They'll make their boasts and brags, Sir. FRANCIS HOPKINSON. Another pleasant story of the same period, which also has its foundation in fact, is told by Mr. Carleton in "The Little Black-Eyed Rebel." The heroine's name was Mary Redmond, and she succeeded more than once in helping to smuggle through letters from soldiers in the Continental army to their wives in Philadelphia. THE LITTLE BLACK-EYED REBEL[5] A boy drove into the city, his wagon loaded down With food to feed the people of the British-governed town; And the little black-eyed rebel, so innocent and sly, Was watching for his coming from the corner of her eye.