The Minute Boys of Long Island : $b A story of New York in 1776 as told by Ephraim LyttleOtis, James
History
The Minute Boys of Long Island : $b A story of New York in 1776 as told by Ephraim Lyttle
Otis, James
New York (State) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
“No sir,” I replied, and with truth, although but for the fact of
seeming to speak on serious subjects in a jesting manner, I would have
added that we still had the stove leg which Abraham had used with such
effect on Luther Stedman’s companion.
“It is not well you should be armed, for you are supposed to be simply
lads who are curious to gain a glimpse of the English fleet. At the
same time it might not go amiss if you had one weapon aboard, and,
Lieutenant Winterbottom, you will see that they are provided with a
musket and fifteen or sixteen rounds of ammunition.”
Having said this the general took up some papers from his desk as if
considering the interview at an end, and without waiting for further
instructions the lieutenant motioned for me to pass out at the door he
opened, saying when we were in the hallway:
“So it seems that you lads have become members of the army at short
notice?”
“But the task given us is not what I should call a soldierly one, being
simply to--”
“Stop, stop, lad! When you entered the room General Putnam sent me
outside, which was the same as if he had announced that the interview
should be private, therefore it is not for you to repeat, save it may
be necessary to your companions, anything which he said. All I need
know is where you will have the provisions and the musket delivered?”
“Our sloop is lyin’ at the Oliver-Street bulkhead.”
“And you intend going away in her, I suppose?”
“Ay; we are to leave as soon as may be.”
“The stores will be sent to the foot of Oliver Street, and within the
hour if possible.”
Having said this the lieutenant opened the outer door; but did not
follow me, and when I was in the street once more there stood my
companions on the opposite side, looking, as no doubt they felt, keenly
curious regarding the result of the interview.
Without halting, I beckoned for them to follow, and as we walked up the
Broadway I repeated that which had been said, much as is set down here,
and was not a little surprised to hear Abel Grant cry exultantly:
“Now that’s what I call work fit for the best, an’ the wonder of it is
that General Putnam should have entrusted it to those whom he knew as
little as he knows us! So you told him I claim to be admiral, eh?”
“I fail of seeing in what way the task can be of such great
importance,” I said hesitatingly. “It seems to me any who owned a boat
might perform it equally well.”
“That may be,” Sam cried in a tone of satisfaction. “And yet we are
the ones whom he selected. It seems to me that by his own showin’
he considered the work of great importance, in addition to bein’
dangerous.”
“Ay, and that is what it is,” Abel Grant declared. “To spy out the
enemy’s forces, an’ be able to do it properly, is such big work that
the chances of bein’ taken prisoners don’t count, as I’m lookin’ at it.
So you told him I was to be admiral, eh?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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