United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
I said to myself that there was some movement afoot among these men
concerning which I had not heard, and then straightway reproved myself
for being such a simple as to believe they knew more regarding the
purpose of our friends than did I, who heard discussed every day
measures which would soon be taken to relieve ourselves of the burdens
which the king had put upon us.
As a matter of course we had no means of knowing, except through their
own speech, whether those we met were Tories, or true sons of the
colony, therefore it behooved us to be guarded in our words, putting
trust in no man however fairly he spoke us, and verily some of those
big-hearted farmers, who shortly afterward shed their blood so freely in
the defence of the colony, must have set us down as being woefully
churlish.
Now and then as we walked Silas would come back to the subject of
enrolling a company of Minute Boys, persisting in discussing the matter
whenever we were in the open country where it was possible to make
certain there were none lurking nearby who might hear us, and so eager
was he on the scheme, that before we were come to where the skiff had
been left, just below the ferry, it was already settled in our minds
that we would make the attempt on the following day, if so be we arrived
at our homes in safety.
We had even decided among ourselves as to which of our acquaintances
should be invited to share the glory that all felt certain would come to
us, once we had been allowed to join those who were to stand against the
king in defense of their homes, and there yet remains as vividly in my
mind as though it were yesterday that we walked from Master Hadley's to
the ferry above Charlestown, all the details of the conversation we had
concerning Seth Jepson.
We three knew the lad fairly well. He lived in Crooked lane, nearby Dock
square, and was seemingly a kindly hearted youth, ready to do a favor
for another even at his own expense; but yet I set my face against
admitting him into the ranks of our Minute Boys, for no other reason
than that I had often seen him in the company of Amos Nelson and two
other young Tories.
Archie said my suspicions were idle because they had no other foundation
than what I have set down, and that he might laugh me out of them he
said with a grin:
"I have seen Baker's old gray goose paddling around among the chickens;
but I never suspected him of being a rooster."
"Your wit is poor," I replied, nettled somewhat, "for there exists no
likeness between a lad who may plot, and a goose that simply flocks with
chickens to gain his food. I hold to it that we should have no
association with those who traffic among the Tories."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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