"He broke his silence by the following expression, 'You may all go to the devil!'" In recording this, Sally somewhat shocked says, "I never heard him utter an indecent expression before." "At last his good nature gained a complete ascendance over his anger, and he joined heartily in the laugh. Stoddard caught hold of his coat. 'Come, look at what you ran from,' he exclaimed, and dragged him to the door. "Tilly gave it a look, said it was very natural, and by the singularity of his expression gave fresh cause for diversion. We all retired,--for to rest our faces,--if I may say so. "Well, certainly these military folk will laugh all night. Such screaming I never did hear. Adieu to-night." Such incidents as that did good service in giving a touch of humour to the soldiers' duller duties when in camp, and the vivid picture of Tilly and the grenadier comes down to us through the years as a refreshing incident of Revolutionary days. On the next day Sally writes, "I am afraid they will yet carry the joke too far. Tilly certainly possesses an uncommon share of good nature or he could not tolerate these frequent teasings." Then she adds what is most important of all,-- "Ah, Deborah, the Major is going to leave us entirely, just going. I will see him first." And on the next day, "He has gone. I saw him pass the bridge. The woods hindered us from following him farther. I seem to fancy he will return in the evening." But he never did, and it is left to our imagining how much of her heart the gallant young officer took away with him. Whether much or little, there was no evidence of her loss of spirits, and other admirers came and went, in quick succession and apparently entirely engaged her attention. On the 20th of December, she writes, "General Washington's army have gone into winter quarters at Valley Forge. "We shall not see so many of the military now. We shall be very intimate with solitude. I am afraid stupidity will be a frequent guest," and again, "A dull round of the same thing. I shall hang up my pen till something happens worth relating." There being such a lack of diversion at the farm, Sally gladly went to spend a week with her friend Polly Fishbourn at Whitemarsh, where she had an opportunity to climb the barren hills and from their tops saw an extended view of the surrounding country. She says, "The traces of the Army which encamped on these hills are very visible,--ragged huts, imitations of chimneys, and many other ruinous objects which plainly showed that they had been there."