Archie Hemming is as straight-headed a boy as was ever raised in Boston town, and he insists that, while we are seemingly idling our time away here in the Cambridge camp, I ought to set down what small share we lads of Boston have had in beating the lobster backs, for certain it is we have done our share, and no less a man than General Israel Putnam has told us plainly that we have already been of great aid to the Cause. After such praise as that it would not be strange if we allowed ourselves to be puffed up with pride, more especially because we can recall many a time since a baker's dozen of us took the high sounding name of "Minute Boys of Boston," when we have come off best in a tussle with the king's soldiers or the rascally Tories. It may seem a matter of surprise to those who have not had a hand in teaching his majesty a long-needed lesson, that there should be in this colony of ours, men, and boys too, who could be so evil minded as to do all they might against those who were shedding their blood, or imperilling their lives, to release them from the oppressive yoke of English misrule, but such was, and is, the fact. During my short life, for I am not yet turned fifteen years, I have been in more danger, and suffered more of hardships from and through Tories, our own neighbors and alleged friends, than ever came my way by the efforts of the red-coated soldiers who allowed to whip us off-hand, before getting a taste of our metal at Breed's hill--I can never bring myself to speak of that battle as having taken place at Bunker hill, for the simple reason that we did not fight there. Archie, who is sitting nearby with Silas Brownrigg, looking over my shoulder to make certain I keep steadily and correctly at the task he has assigned me, says that he did not count on my beginning the story in such a roundabout way, for he wants to see in black and white, as soon as may be, an account of what we Boston Minute Boys have done thus far in the war against the king. Now it seems to me that I ought to begin this tale with the reason why some of us Boston lads decided it might be possible for us to work in behalf of the Cause, and in order to do that I must hark back to what has been done these two years past to us of Boston by the king, and those hangers on of his who counted on grinding us into the dust as if we were made of baser stuff than they. We lads, being young, did not realize all the iniquity of which General Gage was capable, when his acts were purely political, and, perhaps, gave but little heed to our elders when we heard them predicting that he would ruin the colony if it should not be possible to check his unlawful career; but when on the first day of June, in the year of grace 1774, he closed our port of Boston to all vessels save those of the king's, shutting us up like mice in a trap to starve, or leave the colony as fugitives, then did we realize that the moment had come for something more than talk.