A NKVV KNULANIJ SUlIAR URCIIAUI). A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME Rev. E. Ev hale and Miss SUSAN HALE BY Authors of "^ Family Flight through France, Germany, Norway and Switzer- land,'' " A Family Flight over Egypt a7id Syria," and '^ A Family Flight through Spain." FULLY ILLUSTRATED BOSTON D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS Copyright by D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY 1884 Hi'* CONTENTS. Boston . Page CHAPTER I. 13 CHAPTER n. Old Friends together 21 CHAPTER HI. In the Train 29 CHAPTER IV. About Indians 38 CHAPTER V. Professor Bruce 47 CHAPTER VI. The Pilgrims 55 CHAPTER VII. In Bed 65 CHAPTER VIII. Regular Lessons 74 CHAPTER .IX. An Adventure 82 CHAPTER X. Molly Stark's Bonnet 89 CHAPTER XI. Wild Flowers 98 CHAPTER XII. A Telegram 107 5 Contents. CHAP'iER XIII. A LITTLE History ii6 CHAPTER XIV. The Chime of Bells 123 CHAPTER XV. French and English Campaigns 134 CHAPTER XVI. Lake George 142 CHAPTER XVn. Schroon Lake iS* CHAPTER XVI n. A Pond Lily Picnic 160 CHAPTER XIX. Work in Earnest 168 CHAPTER XX. Two Heroes 1 77 CHAPTER XXI. Moving Tableaux 189 CHAPTER XX n. The Revolution begun 198 CHAPTER XXIII. The Declaration of Independence 206 CHAPTER XXIV. The War 216 CHAPTER XXV. Painting Lessons 227 CHAPTER XXVI. After the War 236 ClIAl'l'l'.R XXVI I. TiiK Ilotrsi', IN I HK Woods 244 Coiitc'iits. 7 CHAPTER XXV 11 1. Franklin and Lafaye ite 255 CHAPTER XXIX. Pirates 264 CHAPTER XXX. Two Papas. 275 CHAPTER XXXI. Congress 283 CHAPTER XXXn. Washington's Inauguration 292 CHAPTER XXXni. Sour Grapes 301 CHAPTER XXXIV. A Catastropii e 309 CHAPTER XXXV. Last Days at Utcjpia 318 CHAPTER XXXVI. The First Day in Boston 324 CHAPTER XXXVII. The Second Day 332 CHAPTER XXXVIII. Nahant 344 CHAPTER XXXIX. A Sea Bath 351 CHAPTER XL. Scattering 359 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. A New England Sugar Orchard Boston Harbor 14 The Vendome. 17 Faneuil Hall . 19 Old South Church . 20 Enlivening an April Morning 23 Bunker Hill Monument . 27 Ornamental 28 Boston and Lowell Railroad 30 Signs of Spring 31 The Small Wheel . 35 Railroad Crossing . 37 Indians' Weapons . 39 Squaws building a Wigwam 40 Indian Warfare 43 Barricade against the Indians • 45 Old Clock . 48 Andirons and Cranes • 49 The old Place. • 50 Falls by the Road . • 52 Old-fashioned Fireplace . • 53 Vermont in April. 54 Early New England Schoolman ter 56 Still Snowing . 57 Caravels of Columbus 60 First New England Washing- Day .... 61 The Mayflower 63 The red Schoolhouse 67 The Colonial Schoolmaster 68 Quilting Party 71 Collections of Coins 73 Mayflowers 75 Going after Mayflowers . 76 Early Settlers .... 77 Frontispiece A rude Beginning ... 78 Larch Cones . . . .81 The old Barn . . Familiarity The Barn Floor . 83 . 84 . 86 At Home . 88 A Puritan Daughter 90 Old Days and Ways Odd Style Home Manufacture. 91 92 93 Molly Stark's Bonnet The Bennington Trunk . More old Bonnets . 94 96 97 Jack-in-the-Pulpit . The Willow Road . . 98 100 Rhodora and fringed Polygala Columbines and Dog-tooth Id Violet 105 Giant Cornell . 106 Head of Lake George 108 The cold Heights of the Alps Crown Point . 110 III Logging in the Woods "3 Jacques Cartier Ticonderoga at Sunset . 117 119 On the Lake Shore . 121 The Chiming Waters 124 Indian Difficulties . 125 Pink Azalea . 127 Hubert's private Practice 129 Floating 131 Death of General Wolfe . ^Zi Paul Revere's Ride . 139 General Braddock . 141 List of lUustratkms. Lake George . 143 Shelving Rock, Lake George . M5 Putnam saving Fort Edward . 147 Blue Flag . . . . 152 Garrison House in Deerfield, Mass 153 Pitcher Plant . 154 Partridge-Berry ■ 157 A Bit of the Lake . 159 Wild Roses . 161 Under the Trees 162 Pond Lilies 163 Cardinals 1(^5 Pulling up Lilies 167 Professor Bruce 169 l-Iubert's Corner 171 The French Chateau 174 Dandelions and Buttercups 176 Israel Putnam. 178 Mrs. Bruce in her Cape Bonnt t 179 Fthan Allen , 181 Putnam riding down the Steps 183 Israel Putnam's Birthplace ^85 One Hundred Years Ago 186 Reading the News . . 188 Martha Washington 190 Pulling up Ground-pine . . 192 Indians attacking a New Engl and Stage-coach. • 193 Stuart's Portrait of Washingto n 196 A distinguished Guest • ^97 Talking it over • 199 General Gage . 201 Minute-Man . 202 The North Bride at Concord 204 The Old r:im at Cambri dge • 205 House where the Declaration of Independence was drawn up Autographs of Signers of the Declaration of Independence 207 >o8 The Meadow Intervale . Washington crossing the De ware .... Below the Mill Washington at Valley Forge Lord Cornwallis Major Andre . The Continental Army . Near Saratoga Early Birds Alice's first Subjects Augustine cooling off Vignette .... Alice's Lilies . Washington at the Battlefield Continental Currency Statue of Benjamin Franklin at Philadelphia Bars at the End of the Road The weather-worn Homestead Festoons of Clematis Finishing Touches . Old Liberty Bell . Historical Picture . Benjamin Franklin . Franklin gardening Statue of Lafayette. One Type of Pirate. Watching for a Sail. The House fared ill during th wet Weather Old Swords Side Doorway. In the Honeysuckle Dashing Equipages. Bessie's favorite Spot The fringed Orchis The Round Tower at Newport Receiving distinguished Guest First Prayer in Congress. 209- 213 215 217 220 22 1 223 226 229 231 233 235 237 239 241 242 245 246 247 251 256 257 260 261 262 265 269 271 272 276 277 279 280 28 r 282 284 286 List of Illustrations. II Wool Spinning . 287 Capitol at Washington . . 289 Arch erected in Boston a t Wash- ington's Reception • 293 Early New York . 296 Washington on his Tour . 298 Up River • 300 Billy Brick's Brother • 302 An Arrangement by AHc " • l^Z The Orchard . • 304 Early Apples . . 306 Sour Grapes . • 307 Vignette . • 308 Summer was over . • 3^0 Thaler of Prussia . • 311 Clematis and Creeper • l^?> The Pond ■ 315 Lavinia Mary . . 316 Last Days • 319 The House Cat • 3-0 Miss Lejeune again • 321 Apples from Utopia • 3^3 Boston Common ■ 325 The State House, Beacor Street 327 Dorchester Heights and the Har- bor 330 The Recluse in the new Town of Providence . . . -331 Alice Martin in Boston . . 7,^^ Equitable Building . . . 335 City Hall, Boston . , . 337 Pulpit Window in the Old South Church. . . . 340- Plan of the Battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775 . . .341 Near the Wharves . . -343. Samuel Adams' Statue, Washing- ton Street .... 345 Gov. J. Winthrop, Scollay Square 346 Christ Church, Salem Street . King's Chapel, Tremont Street From the Ferry Boat The Beach .... The Home of Longfellow Boston and Albany Depot Scenery by the Way Along the Sound In Connecticut 34^ 349 352 354 355 360 362 364 365 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. CHAPTER I. BOSTON. ON the second day of last April, a hack drove rapidly up to the warehouses of the Cunard Steamship Company, at East Boston, and stopped. A boy sprang out, opening the door himself, and was quickly followed by a gentleman about fifty years old. " Is she in ? " he demanded of the little crowd of loafers stand- ing about. "Just coming up now, sir," one of them replied. " Ah ! then we are not late. Come, Tom ! " " Your umbrella, sir," said the hackman, " Oh, thank you, yes," replied the gentleman. " You must wait. Probably it will not be long now." Mr. Horner and his son Thomas turned and walked as fast as they could through the long barren extent of solid sheds used for the reception and storing of freight by the Cunard Company. There was a little crowd setting in the same direction they were going, for the huge steamer was already coming up the bay, — close at hand, indeed, for they arrived at the end of the wharf just as ropes were thrown out and made fast to the stout posts pre- pared for them. As they hurried along, however, Tom, holding tight upon his father's arm, said : "It must be rough outside. I am afraid the voyage has been pretty bad all the way." He had to hold his hat on firmly, for the wind was blowing 13 14 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. hard. Against the wharf waves were dashing, and the small boats fastened there were bumping each other and bobbing up and down, while out at sea white sails were scudding fast in the treeze. -A fine day to come up the harbor," said Mr. Horner. "Noth- ing prettier than the approach to Boston on a day like this." Tom Horner was now fifteen. His features were not regular; BOSTON HARBOR. his mouth, when he laughed, which was often, might be said to stretch from ear to ear. but his eyes were bright, and his expres- sion always was so animated that it did you good to look at him. .'Here we are!" he cried, "and here she is," referring tc the steamer, swarming with passengers, stewards, and sailors, all in a BOSTON. 15 "hurry to leave the ship ; "and there is Hubert," he added, with more excitement, running forward, shouting and waving at some one he had thus quickly discovered leaning over the rail of the upper deck. It was Hubert Vaughan, much grown since the Homers had left him, but slight still ; for some time, he did not find these friends in search of whom he was anxiously scanning the group of peo- ple on the wharf, but after a while his face lighted up as he caught sight of Tom's frantic hat-waving. Mr. Horner was be- hind, not having made so much headway as his son, but soon they managed to come together close under the place where Hubert was, and with some difficulty, on account of the roaring sound of escaping steam, and all the din and confusion of such a scene, they managed to make themselves heard. "Can — you — come — down — to us.^" bellowed Tom. ** Yes ; I think so, in a little while ! " shouted Hubert at the top of his lungs. "The gangway is too crowded now." Then they all smiled upon each other longingly, and every one had so much to say, that no one could think of anything suit- able for this shouting distance. Hubert, however, leaned over and said something which the others did not catch. "What.^" asked both the Homers. Hubert repeated it with no better success. " We don't hear what you say ! " called Tom. Hubert then made a mighty effort, and speaking through his hands, like a trumpet, said : " No matter ! I only said ' How do you do ' ! " After this futile effort at communication, it seemed best for all to rest their lungs ; very soon Hubert saw a chance of reach- ing the gangway, and, with his shawl-strap, he pushed for himself a passage, while his friends below watched his progress and followed in the same direction, in order to meet him as soon as he could leave the ship. They saw him stop several times to shake hands 16 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. with fellow-passengers; and once he stopped to kiss a pretty little girl, about six years old, who seemed sorry to part with him. At last, Tom could stand it no longer, and swinging himself along the outside of the passage plank, by holding fast to the rail, he alighted on the deck of the steamer close to Hubert's shoulder, in the middle of the crowding passengers who were somewhat disturbed and displeased for a moment. The boys were so glad to meet, that a close grasp of the hand was hardly enough to express their delight. They would both of them been pleased to embrace, after the continental fashion, with a good, cordial kiss, but of course this would not do, between two staid young gentlemen of English descent. " I'm so glad to see you, old fellow," said Tom ; " here, let me take your bag." " No ; I can manage it," said Hubert, and by this time they were on the wharf, and Mr. Horner was looking kindly into Hubert's face, which brought back to him the sorrowful little fellow left fretting in the hotel at Madrid. "We must come and see about your baggage at once. It is baggage, Hubert, here in America. Have you much .? " " No ; only one rather big box, and my cabin things." Thanks to the friendliness of the Custom House officials, a friend- liness made active by Mr. Horner in a manner we need not describe, there was not much delay in finding and passing Hubert's modest possessions. The driver strapped the trunk on the carriage, the three friends entered it, Mr. Horner banged the door, and called out : " Now to the Vcnddme ! " and they were off. " I am afraid, sir, it was inconvenient for you that I came in a Boston steamer," said Hubert. "My father put me in charge of the Hungerfords, and their passage was engaged for the Samaria already." "That was all right," replied Mr. Horner, "it is perfectly easy BOSTON. 19 for us to run on to Boston, and Tom here was glad of the chance." "Are any of the rest here?" asked Hubert. "I want to see Bessie tremendously." "No; we left them all at home; Bessie is very anxious to see you, and there was Ip^"- - -"-^'-"- ' -^- -- "r^Wi some little talk of t I her coming with us, ? ^j but that plan fell through." " But Miss Lejeune is in Boston ! " said Tom. "Is she.''" cried Hubert, with a little start of delight. "Oh ! I am so glad!"' "She is staying here with some of her numerous Boston friends," said Mr. Horner. " I sent her a telegram inviting her to meet us at the hotel, so I hope we shall see her in the course of the day." It was now about lunch time. "How jolly!" said both the boys; then Tom exclaimed: " See, Hubert, that is Faneuil Hall, the ' cradle of American liberty ' ! " "Faneuil Hall," repeated Hubert, and looking at the ancient building with some curiosity but more indifference. " Hubert does not know yet enough of our history to be inter- ested in its landmarks," said Mr. Horner. "We must give him some idea of the way by which America has grown to be'" — He paused, to see why their carriage was stopping, and Tom finished his sentence grandiloquently with the words — FAN FAIL HALL. 20 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. " — a great and glorious nation." The stop was caused only by a block in Washington street, close by the Old South Church. Huge drays, street cars, herdics, were tangled together in what seemed to be a hopeless dead-lock. "What a funny cab," said Hubert, "with a door at the back I " "Those are herdics," said Mr. Horner, "a sort of street conveyance lately introduced and much in use in Boston. They are not half so nice as hansoms," " But have you no hansoms ? " exclaimed Hubert. "Very few," answered Mr. Horner. "In our Amer- ican cities, and especially in Boston, the streets are -^ so taken up with the rails of the street cars that it would be almost, impos- sible for hansoms to dash about as thc-y do in London.'" They were now dis- entangled, and soon were driving along by the Common, and after- wards the Public Gar- den, large open spaces pleasantly laid out with trees, but still dreary looking, without the first Z^ sign of spring. Patches tfB^^ of dirty snow still lin- gered on the north side of the streets. Hubert was much surprised. When he left England, a fortnight before, the plum-trees were in blossom, crocuses and wall-flowers were ])rofusc in gardens, and the grass green everywhere. OI.I) XII'TII CHURCH. OLD FKltNDa TO«jETHER. 21 CHAPTER II. OLD FRIENDS TOGETHER, AS Mr. Horner, followed by the two boys, passed through the large vestibule of the Hotel Vendome, a servant stepped forward and handed him a visiting card, up)on a tray. "The lady is waiting, sir," he said, "in the drawing-room." Mr. Homer, smiling, showed the card to Hubert, who read upon it the name : -Miss Lejeune had been tor some time in the handsomely fur- nished parlor of the hotel, inspecting the very good engravings on the walls. The furniture was new and handsome. The carpet was soft, and of quiet tones. A few books were scattered upon the centre-table, an open fire burned in the grate. A melancholy, soli- tary woman, travelling by herself from Xova Scotia to Manitoba, sat in a window, holding a book, but not even pretending to read. She was looking out upon the street, but the prospect was as dreary outside as in, large flakes of snow falling, accompanied by a drizzling rain, the sidewalks wet. and only a few pedestrians passing. A hand-organ was droning away in Commonwealth Avenue. 22 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. Miss Lejeune turned to put a damp foot upon the fender, and continued to study the apartment in the large mirror over the mantelpiece before her "Every hotel," she reflected, "should employ a decayed gentle- woman to come in and out of the parlors at intervals, with work in her hand, and an air of being at home. She might put down a newspaper on the table, and then go away again. It would not cost much to pay her, besides her room and board, and would be an excellent enployment for some deserving" — Her philanthropic scheme was disturbed by the sound of voices, and she saw Tom and Hubert and Mr. Horner coming from the hall. "Hubert! Hubert \"aughan ! What's this.-*" exclaimed Miss Lejeune. "Is it really you.' Where did you come from.'*" She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked earnestl}' in his face. Then the recollection of their sad parting at Gibraltar overcame her, filling her eyes with tears. She stoopeci and kissed him, for Hubert was not yet quite so tall as Miss Lejeune, though Tom was well above her in height. Mr. Horner stood by enjoying her surprise. He had purposely, in his telegram to her, omitted all explanations, and she had no idea why he came to Boston at this time. " Time enough for explanations later," he said cheerily, as he shook hands with her. "Augusta, you look younger than evei'. Boston agrees with you." " This climate does not," she replied. " Look at this weather. It has been just like this for six weeks. It does nothing but snow." " Come and lunch with us," said Mr. Horner, " for we are as hungry as bears, are we not, boys.-*'" After a good lunch, during which they all talked at once, re- calling Madrid memories, and the delights of Toledo, the boys were sent off to explore Boston by themselves, for Hubert pro- ENLIVENING AN APRIL MORNING. OLD FRlEXUb TOGETHER. 25 tested he was up to it. He had borne the voyage \er\ well, with only a few days' sickness at first, and felt now perfectly well, with the exception of a little giddy feeling in his head, for which walking would be the best cure. He had had a fairly good passage, up to the last, when the steamer was greeted by a rough reception off our coast. " And now let me hear what this means," said Miss Lejeune, when she and Mr. Horner were cosily seated, in a small private parlor, before a cannel-coal fire, little cups of black coffee beside them. •■ Mav I have my cigar?" he asked. " By all means, but begin. " *• Well,"' he said, with half a laugh. '* history repeals itself, you know. Xot longer ago than yesterdav, I received a letter from Colonel Vaughan. The boys, you know, exchange letters regu- larly." "I think," interrupted Miss Lejeune, ''that the Colonel has acquired the impression that you are responsible for Hubert for the rest of his life."' Mr. Horner shrugged his shoulders, and went on. " He is ordered to India again, whatever that means, and it has occurred to him that Hubert would nowhere be so happy as with us ; suddenly finding that certain friends were to sail at once for Boston, on this Samaria, he pops Hubert into the steamer with them, pops a letter in the bo.x for me, saying he has done so. ft roila tout .' " "Well, well," said Miss Augusta, using her favorite means of comment. " But he must sav something else ; what does he want, does he mean the boy to be hanging upon you always.'" '•There's always plenty of money, you know." said Mr. Horner. " Colonel Vaughan makes that clear in the letter. He simply says in addition, that he would like Hubert — • to gain some knowledge of America and American histor\', a subject which at present W A FAMILY FLIGHT AKOUND HOME. more than ever interests or should interest Englishmen while it is one upon which in general they are singularly ignorant.' " Mr. Horner as he talked had pulled the letter of Colonel Vaughan from his pocket, and he now read the last sentence from it. "Very true," remarked Miss Augusta. "Now what are you going to do about it ? " " That's what we expect you to say," replied Mr. Horner. " You see we received this letter only yesterday, and that by good luck, as it came in a fast steamer, while the Samaria is slow." " Is not she, though ! " commented Miss Lejeune. " I read the letter at dinner last evening." continued Mr. Horner. ■" There was not much time for consultation. Tom and I took the night train ; breakfasted here ; were told the Samaria would be up about ten o'clock; we drov^e to East Boston, and just arrived in the nick of time. Meanwhile, I have been revolving schemes in my head, as we came in the train, and only want to consult you about some good summer plan for these boys. Have you one of your ideas, Augusta .-" " "Not yet," she replied musingly, "but I feel that there is a glimmer of one in the back of my head." " There's no hurry," said Mr. Horner, " let it work. What I am thinking of is no new plan, but one which Hubert's coming develops and helps, that is. that my own children are better in- formed upon the historv of any other country than their own ; and that a summer might be spent very profitably as well as pleasantly by I'om, and even Bessie, in looking about them a lit- tle here in New ICngland." "Quite so," assented Miss Lejeune. "Take Boston now, Tom is showing Hubert the lions, but does he know the lions, and how to make them growl .' " " I doubt," replied Mr. Horner with a smile ; " we shall see, how- ever, what they re])()rt." OLD FRIENDS TOGETHER. 27 " Let US go to the theatre this evening," said Miss Lejeune. "And now tell me what you ^p hear from the Hervevb. " " ^ "Perfectly happy/' replied Mr. Horner, "and I judge, from the letters, that Mary is perfectly- well. The winter at Pau was just the thing for her, and I am glad she escaped our trying one here. I hoped they might be coming home this spring ; but Hervey writes to urge our ■coming to them." "And do you think" — asked Miss Augusta. " Not for a moment," said Mr. Horner, holding up his hands to prevent even the mention of another foreign tour. " My wife is so happy in her own house, that she will not listen to any- thing but a New England sum- mer, and as we can hardly stay in New York through the hot weather, you see we must in- vent some plan." While they were thus talking, the boys returned, in good spirits, but tired and glad to rest, as indeed they might be. for with the courage of youth, they had walked over to Charlestown, to inspect Bunker Hill Monument. "Why, Tom, we do not consider it the height of politeness to take an Englishman there the first thing." BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 28 A FAMILY FLIGHT AliOUNU HOME. "I know," said Tom, "but I could not think of anything else to show him, and we wanted a <;ood long walk. They invited us- to go to the top, but as there would be no view in this weather,. we decided to follow aunt Dut's practice, and stay below." Hubert asked a question which showed that he still knew but little of what every child in America is familiar with, — the story of the famous Battle (on June 17, i775, of Bunker Hill. " I believe, sir, 1 understand it now, only I do not think I quite know whom Tom means by the British." The rest tried not to laugh, but it was not a successful effort. When Hubert saw this, he blushed furiously, but Mr. Horner said : "Always own up your ignorance, my boy, and you will soon get over it. ' British ' means subjects of Great Britain ; when the quarrel began between the American colony and the government at home, the word British was generally used. So we keep to it now, in referring to that time, though not much otherwise." After which Mr. Horner added : '* Tom, 1 dare say, is not well grounded in his country's early history ; we must try to work it u):)." IN THE TRAIN. 29 CHAPTER III. IN THE TRAIN. BOSTON and Lowell ! " shouted the conductor of a street car, rattling the sliding door as he opened it with a bang. Out swarmed the passengers, — an old woman with a basket, a stout man with a bundle, a lawyer with his blue bag. Last of all, with shawl-straps and travelling bags, came Mr. Horner, Miss Lejeune, Tom and Hubert. All these persons passed into the large and handsome hall belonging to the station of the Boston and Lowell railroad. It was cold and chilly, but not raining or snowing now. " I believe you will have lovely weather," said Miss Lejeune. " Change your mind, Augusta, and come with us," said Mr. Horner, coming back to the group with a handful of tickets for Wells River Junction and beyond. " Oh, do, aunt Dut, come with us ! " said Tom, and Hubert looked it. " My dear, I have a lunch and a dinner to-day, both made for me, and am knee-deep in engagements all the week. It was only by Special Providence that I could give you yesterday." " And by Special Heroism that you came to see us off so early," said Mr. Horner. " I had to see the last of you," she replied cheerfully. " I shall try to break off here in order to be at home before you are, and learn the result of your pioneer expedition." " Come, papa, they are all going to the train," said Tom. They left Miss Lejeune hastily, who did not follow them to 30 A FAMILY FLKJHT AROUND HOME. the cold, bleak platform where a long row of cars was standing, "Be sure and come to New York to meet us!" called Hubert, as he ran after the other two. " You have no umbrellas ! " exclaimed Miss Lejeune at the last moment. Mr. Horner stopped, dismayed. " Mine is at the hotel ! " cried he. "Never mind," was her ready answer. "I will find it. Go on!" IJOSTON AND LOWELL RAILROAD. And so she did ; but it would have been better placed during the ne.xt few days in the hands of its owner. This was Hubert's first experience of American cars. He thoui;ht it very funny to enter at the end of a long passage-way, with a series of double scats on each side, instead of the short Sir.NS OF SPRING. IN THE TRAIN". 33 one, at right angles with the track, of most European compart- ments. " How do you like it ? " asked Tom, as they settled themselves by turning over the back of one seat, so that all of them could be together, and heaping their possessions in the vacant corner. "Very much," said Hubert, "for Miss Lejeune has just been reminding me that I must like things as they are, and not think ill of them, because they are different to what I am accustomed." "That is her favorite philosophy," said Mr. Horner. "And all because Hubert said a hansom was better than a horse-car!" cried Tom. " It is jolly," he added, " to have you with us, Hubert, for it makes us look at this from a travelling point of view." They passed out over one of the long bridges which enclose Boston like a network on its water sides. It was a pretty, ani- mated scene ; the sun trying to break through the clouds lighted the water and tinted the smoke and steam from numerous tall chimneys. The monument on Bunker Hill looked more dignified at a distance than close under it, the boys thought. Many trains were darting in and out of their several stations. It seemed as if they must dash into each other; the engines shrieked as if in fear of collisions, but no such thing happened. Theirs was an express train and very soon was sweeping through the open country, freed from suburban streets, and cheap, squalid-looking houses, pa.st fields, rusty and sere, with here and there a trace of spring. As they went farther north, there was more snow on the ground ; only a few catkins of willow and alder were visible. Tom's grandmother lived in Keene, N. H., and there he, as a little boy, had passed many a happy week in her house. This was his maternal grandmother. Mr. Horner's people came from Vermont ; and he had spent his earliest years in the little town of Utopia, far away in the northern part of the State. The family 34 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. home there, however, had long been broken up, and its members scattered. Nobody dared to say how many years it was smce Mr. Horner had visited the place, although he had it always on his mind to do so, until now, when he was moved to take the boys on a little trip to survey the ground, hoping to find some pleas- ant resting-place for the summer, where all the family, or a part of them, might settle down. It was rather vague, for Hubert had suddenly come upon his American friends before they had begun to think of summer plans. As the train swept through Lowell and Lawrence, busy manu- facturing cities on the Merrimac, and afterwards Manchester, m the lower part of New Hampshire, Mr. Horner reminded the boys that the wonderful evidence of civiUzed industry they saw was the growth of but one century. One hundred years ago, no manufacturing villages were to be found in all New England. Beavers built their dams unmolested along the banks of streams since crowded with mills and factories, each" one of which finds work now for more men and women than, until the end of the eighteenth century, made up the population of the largest country town in America. One hundred years ago Lawrence was a mere handful of houses; Manchester was no better. When the census was taken in 1820, the country around Lowell was a wilderness where sportsmen shot game. The falls which now furnish power to innumerable looms were all unused, and the two hundred sole inhabitants of the town found their support in the sturgeon and alewives taken from the waters of the Concord and the Merrimac. At that time no manufactories could be said to exist with the exception of a few mills for making paper, scarce so good in quality as that grocers are now accustomed to wrap around pounds of sugar and tea ; a foundry or two where iron was melted into rude ,;igs, or beaten into bars of iron ; or a factory where cocked-hats and felts were made. IN THE TRAIN. 35 As for cotton manufacture, the first cotton mill was not erected in New England at the time the Constitution was formed. The place now held by cotton fabrics was filled by linen spun at every farmer's hearth. To spin well was then esteemed an accoraplish- THE SMALL WHEEL. ment, like playing on the piano, or painting china at present, and every damsel of the old time was proud to excel in it. The " spinning bee " was once the fashion among the rich ; it continued in vogue in many country towns when the ladies of the great 36 A FAMILY FLIGHT AKOUND HOME. cities had deserted the wheel for the harpsichord and the spinet. The bee was generally held in the town hall; but if the village was not prosperous enough to contain such a building, the house of some minister was chosen. Thither the women went with their spinning-wheels and flax, and as they spun were brought cake and wine by the fine gentlemen of the town. All this spinning is done away with by the introduction of machinery, and flax and linen have yielded for most household purposes to cotton and cotton goods. "Did you ever see a spinning-wheel.?" Mr. Horner asked of Hubert. Hubert was doubtful. "Aunt Augusta has one," answered Tom, "in a corner of her parlor, all tied up in blue ribbon like a pet dog." "I fancy she would be puzzled to know how to use it. That used to be called the small wheel." "Oh! I know," cried Hubert. -I have seen them on the stage in 'Martha,' the opera, I mean." Mr. Horner said, " I remember another kind with a much larger wheel, not uncommon when I was a boy; at which the pretty spinner had to stand instead of sitting. We must try to find one in Vermont." "Was the spinner always pretty, sir.?" asked Tom. "I imagined them old women." " As the fashion grew old, the spinners did, I suppose," replied his father. "The young ladies would not learn, but the old ones did not give it up. Lately, the fashion of collecting old things has been so general, that garrets and barns all through New Eng- land have been pretty thoroughly ransacked, and, as you say, small spinning-wheels have come out of their cobwebby corners to be ornaments to modern drawing-rooms." More and more snow covered the landscape as our travellers went farther north ; and when they came to Lake Winnepesaukee horses and sleighs were driving merrily across the lake on the IN THE TRAIN. :]7 ice. Hubert could not believe it. "On the ice!" he cried. "It looks like all the rest of the country." He had never seen so much snow in his life ; and as the ice of the lake was covered with a white enfolding sheet of it, no one could have distinguished between underlying land and water, except that here and there men were fishing through holes cut in the ice, below which was revealed the black water of the lake. At noon they reached Wells River Junction, and after that crossed the Connecticut River, and leaving New Hampshire, passed into the State of Vermont. The country was very beautiful, even at that barren season ; certainly it was at least to the eyes of Tom and his father, familiar with the roughness of American scenery. To Hubert's unspoken judgment, the heaped-up stone-walls, ragged root fences, small wooden houses, wide, desolate tracks of burnt- over land, little fulfilled the boast of progress and civilization of which Mr. Horner had been speaking. fMSTf^^^^"" F' )^ 38 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. CHAPTER IV. ABOUT INDIANS. THE Indian names of places were puzzling to Hubert, and he entirely declined trying to remember how Winnepesaukee was spelt. Tom assured him that there were much worse ones down in Maine, such as " Pamedemcook Lake" and " Ambajem- ackoraas Carry." Hubert asked if they were likely to see any Indians upon this journey. "Not one," replied Mr. Horner. "You must travel much farther West or North to find any of them. Pretty much the only trace of them here is to be found in the names they gave to lake and mountain, and arrow-heads which are still dug up occasionally. Specimens of their weapons are preserved in historical collections. Yet until the first white colonists settled in America, the Indians- had the whole of the country to themselves, roaming about, living upon game of which the forests were full, for the arrows of the Indians made no such wholesale destruction of animals as our modern weapons." "What fun to have been here then!" cried Hubert; "just fancy an Indian all war-paint, behind that tree, for instance!" "Brrrr!" said Tom, shivering, "I'm glad he is not, though!" Time and absence from the early Indian have softened so much the general impression of his character, novels and legends have invested it with so much romance, that he has become an ideal sort of creature of romantic and attractive qualities. We are no longer in danger of being tomahawked in New Eng- land. An Indian in his paint and feathers is a rarer show than. ABOUT INDIANS. 39 a white elephant. We are therefore more disposed to pity than to hate. But one hundred years ago, there were few men who had no reason to hate the Indians, and there were thousands whose cattle had been driven off, whose homes had been laid in ashes by the braves of the Six Nations, who had fought with them from behind rocks and trees, whose women had fled at the INDIAN WEAPONS. dead of night from cabins set on fire by these relentless enemies. Before the arrival of white people in America, the Indians, without fire-arms, and without whiskey, which had a fatal influence 40 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. upon the disposition of the race, possessed, doubtless, many inter- esting traits of character. The Indian was essentially a child of nature. His life was one long struggle, for his daily food depended on the skill with which SQUAWS BUILDING A WIGWAM. he used his bow, on the courage with which he fought fierce beasts, on the quickness with which he tracked, and the cunning with which he outwitted the timid, keen-scented animals of the forest. The clearness of his vision, and the sharpness of liis hearing were wonderful by which he followed an obscure trail over diflficult ground ; with a cat-like tread, over beds of fallen leaves and heaps of dried twigs, walking close up to the grazing deer. Courage and fortitude in bodily suffering he possessed to a high degree ; yet he was given to the dark and crooked way.s which belong to the weak and cowardly. His favorite method of warfare was to rouse his sleeping enemies at dead of night with an unearthly yell, to massacre them by the light of their burning ABOUT INDIANS. 41 homes. Cool and brave men who have heard that whoop, have testified that no number of repetitions could strip it of its terror; that at the sound of it the blood curdled, the heart ceased to beat, and a sort of paralysis seized upon the body. Roused, and on the war-path, the savage was all activity. He would march all day through the snow, heedless of intense cold, and at night, rolled in buffalo robes, go hungry to sleep. But when the war was done, he liked to sleep all day in a wigwam of painted skins, blackened with smoke, decorated with scalps, and hung with tomahawks and arrows, singing, laughing and dancing at night in the moonlight. He made his squaw do all the work. It was Starlight or Cooing Dove that brought the wood for his fire and the water for his drink ; that ploughed the field, and sowed the maize, and adorned his moccasins with bright embroidery and bead work. When he travelled, she trudged along behind with the pappoose on her back. The minds of the Indians were as crude as their characters, with strong imaginations, and but little reasoning power. They were full of superstitions, and the simplest things that happened, were to them fraught with meaning. If they were sick, some enemy had caused the malady, and the medicine man came and cured it by pretending to take out of the patient a toad, or a bright stone. Gay colors pleased them greatly, and the early settlers could barter with a handful of glittering beads, or a bright blanket, for a bundle of skins many times more valuable, or a hundred bushels of corn. It was natural that the Indians should resist the encroachments of a civilization so different from their own as that of the whites ; but their mode of warfare, with which, doubtless, they had dealt with each other for generations, was most horrible, and a grave impediment in the way of the early settlers of New England. In the beginning, the colonists meant to keep on the right side of the Indians, though it is very likely that injustice was often 42 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. done. There were men among the Puritans who were always trying to do good to them, and to secure peace by gentle methods. "The Apostle" Eliot, as he was called, devoted himself to making a translation of the Bible into their language. But after fighting had begun, the only course for the white settlers was one of self-defence, and for long years the struggle con- tinued. When first visited by Europeans, the Indians were said to be already decreasing in numbers, through their wars among them- selves, and through diseases they were too ignorant to check. They have been diminishing ever since, although to this day settlements of the United States, in the far West, still live in constant fear of attacks from Indian tribes. But there are many children in New England who have never seen a real Indian, and none have heard the dreadful war whoop. About noon, the conductor came to Mr. Horner to say that the train would shortly after stop over half an hour at Ellville, and that there, as he expressed it, " would be as good a chance as any to get some dinner." This was a joyful sound to the boys, who had breakfasted early ; they were already on the plat- form when the engine stopped, and jumped out with alacrity, to- find themselves facing the broad street of a considerable town,. with brick sidewalks, blocks of houses and shops. The conductor showed them about forty rods off the sign " Hotel," placed over a doorway, assuring them there would be ample time for dinner, besides going and returning. It was snowing fast, and the mud was miles deep, according to Tom's description. "Now would be the time for your umbrella, papa," said he. "Alas, yes," replied Mr. Horner; "Hubert, how comes it that you, an English boy, are without an umbrella.''" "They are not much in use in riil)raltar, sir," he promptly re- plied. \W this time they were wading through the mud, crossing the INDIAN WARFARE. ABOUT INDIANS. 45- Street ; a few planks placed for passengers, were sunk deep in the mire, but gave a clue to the right direction, and on landing on the opposite side, they found themselves directly in front of the hotel, where a waiter was ringing a clamorous bell of invita- tion. They ran up-stairs, and entered a large, clean dining-room, BARRICADE AGAINST THE INDIANS. where several people, passengers in the same train with themselves, were bolting their food, having already finished their soup. " How in the world did they get here so quickly," murmured Tom, as his party seated themselves, and shook out their nap- kins. A plate of hot soup was promptly placed before each, by a pretty girl with " banged " hair who pronounced at the same time the following sentence, or single word, for it sounded like only one : 46 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. " Roastbeefdinnerpiechickenandporktripe." "Say it again, please," said Tom, "and a little slower." When she had repeated it, he said: "Bring it all except the tripe." The food was excellent, and well-cooked. Hubert was puzzled by the little tubs set around his plate containing all kinds of vegetables, tomato and apple-sauce; but he was warned to waste no time. This course was followed by a choice of several kinds of pie. By the time they had finished, with all possible expedition, every one but themselves had left the place. The pretty waitress, though she said there was plenty of time, looked anxiously at the clock. "Come, boys," said Mr. Horner, taking his hat. "I will go first and pay, but do not delay!" Fifty cents apiece was expected for the dinner, which was fully worthy of that price. They hurried back to their seats in the train, and had just five minutes to spare before it started. "So that's an American Fonda!" cried Hubert, whose spirits were now rising to their usual level. Poor boy, the novelty of the scene, the fatigue of the voyage, and the sense of being a stranger in a strange land, were indeed enough to make him reserved and silent ; but the kindness of the Homers was irresisti- ble, and he was beginning to feel the relief of being among true friends after the comparative solitude of the last ten days on the steamer. "Yes," cried Tom, "shall you ever forget the time we all tumbled out in the night, and bought knives.?" "It does not look much like Spain outside," said Mr. Horner. The snow was falling more thickly than ever, and the sky was dark and lowering. After a few hours they reached East Utopia, their destination for that day, and went at once to the hotel opposite the station. PKOFESbOK BRUCE. 47 CHAPTER V. PROFESSOR BRUCE. THE hotel at East Utopia was a modern affair, built of wood, and painted white. The public parlor, into which our friends were shown, up one flight, was a square room, containing a stove, a piano, a marble-topped centre-table, a sofa as hard as the Rock of Dundas, and two good rocking-chairs. The carpet on the floor was gaudy with huge roses ; the paper shades in the windows were decorated with festoons of flowers, coarsely painted. On some bookshelves in a corner were several odd volumes of Congress- ional Documents, and a Bible. The paint was clean and fresh ; everything looked neat, new, but stern and uncompromising. The days have gone by of old, large, hospitable fireplaces with com- modious chimney corners. The tall clocks of colonial times have been first relegated to garrets, then removed to bric-a-brac shops, and now, burnished and polished, stand in halls of modern houses, which, by a freak of fashion, represent better the life of two cen- turies ago, than any really old interior. Even if the old house be standing, its huge, square chimney has been torn down, to give way to smaller flues, more economical of fuel. Andirons, roasting-jacks and cranes have gone up with the chimneys. A real old-fashioned kitchen would be hard to find in New England to-day. The best way to get an idea of such relics is through pictures and reproductions. So the room of the new hotel seemed bare and forlorn ; but a man came in with short logs which he popped into tlie stove, and in a few moments a crackling, snapping sound came from 48 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. them, which was by no means cheerless; a bright glow shone through the little isinglass-covered openings of the stove door, and a genial heat spread itself about in an incredibly short space of time. " These Yankees know what they are about," said Mr. Horner, as he warmed his hands ; " an old-fashioned fireplace consumed twice the amount of wood without warming half the space." A cheery voice was heard below, and then somewhat heavy steps on the stairs ; the door opened, and a gentleman, whom the boys considered old, entered. "Ha! Horner, is this you .^ Well,. I'm afraid I should not have known- you." " Mr. Bruce, this is very kind of you,. to come over in such weather. I should know you anywhere, sir. You look younger than you did twenty years ago."' " Come, Horner, none of your jokes. I'm an old man, sir, yes, an old man. But here are the young ones ; which is yours.''" " Tom," said the father, " this is my old schoolmaster, Professor Bruce. The first time he saw me, I was about your >> age. "Why, Thomas, how arc you .-' " said the old man, shaking hands cordially. And from that time ever afterwards he OLD CLOCK. called him nothing hut Thomas. "And this is Hubert Vaughan, a you ncf Enfrlish friend of PKOFESSOR BRUCE. 49 ours, who has come over to learn something about America." " You thought you would give him a lesson in climate, first, hey.-'" asked Mr. Bruce. "This weather is rather rough, even for us, but it can't last, — it can't last." He sat down and rubbed his hands before the stove, kicked off his India rubbers, and loosened the knit comforter from his neck. Mr. Horner sat down near him, and then between the two, to the amusement of Hubert and the amazement of Tom, there began a series of questions and answers about old friends, companions of Mr. Horner's youth, of whom Tom had never heard in his life up to this moment. "Well, Horner, your mother is dead, and your father, too. Let's see, how long is it since you were here .■* " " Seventeen years, sir. You know, after my father's death, my mother came down and lived with us; and so many of the old folks were gone from here, there has been no real object in a visit to the old place." "Abraham is living, you know, ami \(un- aunt Ittsty's second husband, he is still residing here." "How is Susan ."^ " asked Mr. Horner. " Let's see, she is your father's niece ; Susan Jones ; why, she's married and living in Minnesota." And so on, and so on, till the boys grew weary of the catalogue, and slipped away. It seemed to them as if nearly everybody were dead, or married and gone West. " I wonder who is alive in the place!" exclaimed Tom, as he and Hubert wandered off to explore the house, and to inspect the weather, in case there were a chance of going out. Thick mud ANDIRONS AND CRANFS. 50 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. in the village street, encrusted in a kind of frosting of new snow like wedding-cake, forbade this scheme. Meanwhile the gentlemen talked on, never weary of old reminiscences. Mr. Horner had been fitted for college at Montpelier, Vt., THE OLD PLACE. by Professor Bruce, in his charge, and boarding in hi.s family. This life of several years made them intimate, and a friendship was formed of the lasting sort, which comes from true respect and gratitude on the part of the younger man, and affectionate appro- bation on the older one's side. The difference in years was not excessive; for Mr. Bruce was but a young man just graduated when he began his career as a schoolmaster. He was now some- what over sixty. He married, in early life, a Utopia girl, a cousin in fact of the Horncrs, and as on the death of her parents she inherited a comfortable little property, Mr. Bruce then bought the whole Horner estate, with its old-fashioned house, large barns, and PROFESSOR BRUCE. 51 ample farms; and thus it came about that he was now occupying the homestead where Mr. Horner was born, and where he and his brothers and sisters passed the happy days of their youth. Mrs. Bruce never had any children ; Mr. Horner remembered her as a delightful little woman. As soon as he thought of the plan of coming into Vermont with the boys, he wrote to Mr. Bruce to inform him of it ; and the genial old gentleman harnessed up in spite of the weather, and drove into town from the farm, which was three miles distant from East Utopia, the nearest sta- tion on the railway. Mr. Bruce stayed to the early "meat-tea" of the hotel, an ample meal of nice beefsteak, baked potatoes, real cream and sweet, fresh butter. Then he drove away in his buggy with the old white mare, Lucy. " Get up, Lucy ! get up ! " said he, as he took the reins and shook them on her back. " Cl'k ! cl'k!" The leisurely starting of the excellent animal gave him ample time to say,, as he poked his head out of the side of the buggy : " Seems Hke better sleighing than wheeling, Horner. Guess you'd better tell them to send you over on runners ! " It was snowing more vigorously than ever. It had been agreed between the gentlemen that it was best for the Horner party to spend the night at the hotel, where they were, and to drive next morning to Utopia, about three miles "over the mountain," as the natives called it. A beautiful road which Mr. Horner well re- membered. The boys of course longed to go on runners, and were delighted next morning with the verdict of the master of horses, that there was "about as much sleddin' as wheelin' anyway, and always plenty of snow on the mountain." The sun, for a wonder, seemed trying to break through the clouds as they all emerged from the house, well buttoned up in great -coats ready for an early start. Their driver, the owner of the team. 52 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. composed of two stout black horses, was encased in a warm coat of coarse yellow fur. Thick leather boots were drawn up over his trousers, and he had a fur cap on his head. Mr. Horner and Hubert were packed in on the back seat of a KAI.LS BY THE ROAD. wide sleigh, with a buffalo robe to sit on, and a buffalo robe over their knees, tucked in closely about them. Tom was stowed away on the front seat next the driver ; two huge umbrellas were placed PKOFESSOK BKUCE. 53 in the vehicle, one for each seat ; the small travelling effects of the party were underneath. And so with cheerful good-bys to the host and several assistants who were by to see them off, the team started. At the very outset, a steep ascent was to be made, and this was more mud than snow. About half-way up, the sleigh was stuck fast, and for a moment it seemed doubtful if they could get on. " I don't know but we shall have to give it up ! " said Brick, the driver; but he jumped out into the mud, and by coaxing the horses, and pulling at their mouths, he persuaded them to a part of the hill where the ruts were not so deep. Once at the top, they found themselves better off, and soon were gliding over almost unbroken snow, in a lovely wood road. On each side tall trees rose, and behind them huge rocks. Streams rippled along down the hillsides, wetting ferns, which, evergreen the winter through, ()LI)-KASHIONF.D FIREPLACE. overhung their borders ; birds were singing, the air was soft, and seemed to promise spring, though spring had not arrived. " How lovely it must be here in summer ! " cried Tom. " It is like the road under West Mountain, at Keenc, papa!" 54 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. "There used to be a crow's nest in the top of that tree," said his father, "and here is where I fell off the rock once, twenty feet down." He was full of reminiscences of his boyhood, which all came back to him vividly, on returning to the spot where they were enacted. VERMONT IN APRIL. THE PILGRIMS. 55 CHAPTER VI. THE PILGRIMS. IT was but three miles to their destination, and where the sleigh- ing was good in the woods, they slipped rapidly over the ground. Soon after passing some lovely falls and rapids, they began to approach the little village of Utopia. Mr. Horner exclaimed : "There's the house! there's my old home! Do you see it, boys .-• ' ' It was conspicuously placed on high land, which fell off rapidly behind the house to the level of the Connecticut. This river here flowed through a broad valley, in a shallow bed, now encumbered not only with ice, but logs, which had floated on the water from some place higher up. Mr. Bruce was awaiting them on the broad flat doorstep, as the party drove up. They all stopped to look at the wide view down the Connecticut valley. " So that is New Hampshire ! " said Tom. "Yes; we are just on the boundary," said the old gentleman; "but come in, come in! Mrs. Bruce is waiting for you, and it is cold outside." Good Mr. Brick, dismissed with a friendly good-by, and a suitable sum in his pocket, now drove off down the hill. The others entered the house, where Mrs. Bruce was standing at the door of a large room. She was a little bit of a woman, with gray hair that had once been yellow, smoothly put away under a cap ; she was wrapped up in a knit shawl, and she shiv- 58 A FAMILY FLIGHT AHOUND HOME. ered as she urged them to come in. The room was nice and warm from the heat of the inevitable wood stove Every one sat down for a few minutes; but Mr. Horner, with all the .mpatience of a boy, wanted to see the old house; and with Mrs. Bruce s permission, they went all over it from garret to k, Chen, pausing to look at the extens.ve views from every window, wh.ch, fine even at that season, promised to be beautiful in summer. The hope of the early morning, that pleasant weather was coming, faded ; before noon snow began to fall, and when the mid-day din- EARLY Ntw i:n<;la.\d schoolmaster. ner was over, a storm as heavy as that of the evening before was '::%:;, " ^-^^ ^--"^^ '° ""-^ °^ ^°-^ -^ '-° <^e mud a: be 1 '"""' "' ""'^- '"'" '"^ "^'■-^' Which proved be the most attract.vc room i„ the house. Here, to the delight "^{■i 'liilt', *5I , "^■^ ir- V STILL SNOWING. THE PIL(iRIMS. 59 of our city friends, was an open fire of logs. The walls of the room were lined on all sides with shelves, crammed with books, books, books ; old, modern, shabby, some few splendid in calf and sold. "This looks natural," said Mr. Horner, as he walked up to the shelf of dictionaries and pulled out a battered Latin Lexicon. " Nothing so familiar as a well-worn old friend of this sort." He turned at once to a certain leaf on which he expected to find, and did, his own initials scribbled on the margin and decorated with the American flag, drawn in a flourishing style. " Here is History," said Mr. Bruce, turning to the boys, point- ing out one large division of shelves, " and all this is American History; or ought to be," he added with a smile. "My books are arranged according to a system, but it is not so unerring as the Solar one ; my planets often wander from their orbits." As he spoke, he took a volume of Palfrey's New England from among the dictionaries and placed it in its own gap on the New Eng- land shelf. " You had better amuse yourselves," he continued, " with the books, while your father and I are talking matters over." The two elder gentlemen settled themselves before the fire, the professor with a well-browned pipe, and Mr. Horner with a cigar, while the younger pair took down various books relating to American His- tory, and compared notes as to their ignorance or knowledge of the subject. Tom, of course, had the familiarity of an average boy, not especially fond of reading, with the past of New England, but he soon found Hubert's questions were too much for him, and after a time, and as it grew towards dusk, the boys came to the fireside, and by their remarks, led Mr. Bruce into some rather rambling talk on his favorite hobby, the early life of New Eng- land. It came out that the aggregate stock of the combined knowledge of the two boys amounted pretty much to this : that Columbus- m A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. discovered America ; tliat his voyage was not the same as that of the Mayflower, though Hubert was not clear on this point, on account of the general resemblance, in pictures, between that vessel and the caravels of the discoverer. They also knew that the Puritans left England for more freedom in religion than they could have at home ; that they went through all sorts of suffer- J ings from the hardships of the climate, and the lack of the comforts of civili- zation, also on account of the Indians, with whom they could not keep peace. By and by, the boys supposed, the col- onies became prosperous, and all went on well until they quarrelled with the mother country, resisted the control of rulers and laws sent out to them from England, and began, with Lexington and Bunker Hill, the struggle for independence, which ended in the famous Declaration of July 4, 1776. "And since then," said Tom, "we have just had a Republic, with Presidents, beginning with Washington, you know, Hubert, and going on straight along down to our own times." On a Saturday noon, near the close of autumn (November ir 1620), the Mayflcnvcr dropped her anchor in the harbor of what is Provincetown, Cape Cod. This was the beginning of the Colony of Plymouth. When four years had passed, the village consisted of only thirty-two cabins, inhabited by a hundred and eighty persons. Six years later it numbered three hundred jiersons, and at the end of its life of seventy years, its population had probably not come to exceed eight thousand. It is on account of the virtue dis- played in its institution and management, and of the great conse- quences to which it ultimately led, that the Colony of Plymouth CARAVELS OF COLUMBUS. THE PILGRIMS. QC> claims its importance. Its early records describe the buildino- of log houses, turning sand heaps into corn fields, dealings with stupid Indians, anxious struggles to get a living, and the sufferings of men, women and children, wasting under cold, sickness and famine ; it is the heroism and courage, moved by the noble im- pulse of a sense of religious obligation, which give interest to the details of the first days of this settlement. Having kept their Sabbath quietly, the men began the labors of the week by landing a shallop from the ship and hauUng it up on the beach for repairs, while the women went on shore to wash clothes. While some of the men were at work on the boat, sixteen others set off on foot to explore the country. On this expedition they saw five or six savages, who ran away from them. Such is the simple account of the first week-day of these pil- grims in a strange land. The time of year was most unfavor- able. December was upon them, and the severity of the cold was extreme. After some exploration, by land and water, it was on the twenty- second of December that they decided upon a place "as they supposed fit for situation." Trustworthy tradition has preserved the knowledge of the landing-place. It was PLYMOUTH ROCK. No time was now lost. By the end of the week, the Mayflower had brought her company to keep their Sabbath by their future home. Their first favorable impressions of the spot they had chosen were improved by further exploration. There was a convenient har- bor, "compassed with a goodly land." The country was well- THE MAYFLOWER. 64 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. wooded ; the sea and beach promised abundance of fish and fowl, and four or five small runnuig brooks brought a supply of "very sweet fresh water." After prayer for further divine guidance, they fixed upon a spot for the erection of their dwellings ; a storm came to interrupt their proceedings, very naturally, on the sixteenth of December. Then they set to work to fell timber and set up their houses. It was agreed that every man should build his own house. The frost and bad weather hindered them much. Seldom could they work half the week. Yet they persevered through far worse troubles ; sickness from exposure and want of proper food carried off nearly half their number during the terrible first winter. But courage and fidelity never gave out. The well carried out the dead through cold and snow, and then hastened back from the burial to wait on the sick ; and as the sick began to recover, they took the places of those whose strength was exhausted. There was no time, and no inclination, to despond. The lesson was not forgotten, that " all great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, and must be both enterprised and overcome with answerable courage." The dead had died in a good service, and the fit way for survivors to honor and lament them was to be true to one another, and to work together bravely for the cause to which dead and living had alike been consecrated. "Warm and fair weather" came at length, says their record, "and the birds sang in the woods most pleasantly." Never was spring more welcome. It began, fortunately for them, to show itself in early March, a full month earlier than the year when the Homers, on a day near the middle of April, were sitting before a com- fortable fire. Snow fell thick without, while Mr. Bruce was reading or repeating the above, from Palfrey's History of New England. IN BED. 65 CHAPTER VII. IN BED. THE delicious country tea provided by Mrs. Bruce's hospital- ity failed to tempt Hubert's appetite. He refused muffins, and even hot brown waffles, to be eaten with maple syrup ; and finally asked to be excused, saying he felt a little faint. He was advised to go to bed, and Tom went up with him to the large room at the top of the house which had been assigned to the two boys. Mrs. Bruce, a little anxious, followed them a little later, and on her return, reported Hubert as feverish. She made him as comfortable as she could, and left him, hoping a good night's rest would set him right; but Hie next morning he was quite ill, and kind old Doctor Goodkin was sent for. He pro- nounced it fever, though not alarming ; th t consequence, probably, of over fatigue, not an unnatural effect of the voyage, and pre- scribed staying in bed for the present. This was awkward, for Mr. Horner's business compelled him to be back in New York by Saturday night, and for this it was nec- essary to leave Utopia at noon, that day. Hubert knew this, and begged Mr. Horner to leave him with the Bruces, who would, he said, be just as good as possible to him. Mr. Horner hesitated, then said, at first, that he would leave Tom with Hubert ; but after all due delicacy, it was decided that Hubert only should remain, while Tom and his father went on to Burlington for that night, and home to New York the next day, through Rutland and Albany. Thus it happened that Hubert began at once his Vermont life, 66 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. and did not go to New York, for the present. Tom went back to school, which was important, as he was finishing his last year. It was arranged that Mr. Bruce should take the two boys for the summer, to board and teach, beginnmg at once with Hubert, on a regular course of study and reading. "Good-by, old fellow," said Tom, standing at the bedside of his friend; "it seems rather rough to leave you in this way." "Don't you worry," returned Hubert with a smile; he was really not very ill, only not quite up to travelling. " I shall be out and all over the country directly, while you are grinding away at school." "Be sure," said Mr. Horner, "to write us if you feel lonely, and we will send Bessie up to you, or somebody." "That would be a temptation to make believe I was lonely," replied Hubert gayly ; " for I long to see Bessie. But I think there are people here I shall make friends with. Tom, did not you see a pretty girl in the snow storm yesterday, just as we were arriving .'' " " Was she pretty ? I did not look at her, but her dog. I hope she is, for your sake." " Come ! " called Mr. Bruce from the foot of the stairs, and the parting was hastened. Tom and his father again packed into a sleigh, went back over the mountain to the station, while Hubert turned on his pillow with a sigh, more disheartened, now that he was really left, than he had allowed to appear. Poor fellow, he had a stout heart, and had already in life met with sad experiences. Before long, Mrs. Bruce came to him, and put a soft hand on his head. "If you feel equal to it," she said, "I want you to slip on my husband's dressing-gown and come down-stairs one flight. You will be more comfortable there, and we can look after you more easily." IN BED. 67 The change to the Blue Room was very pleasant. It was a small chamber opening from Mrs. Bruce's own room, — a sort of boudoir in fact, though she would have been amazed at such a name. It contained some old-fashioned things, — an old easy chair with high sides, to rest the cheek against, a work-table with drawers and a bag beneath, and a nice little bed, just put up on purpose for the invalid, with a de- .^^y' lightful patchwork __ ff ~=^ - ^ quilt made of bits ,;ai»^- of very old prints, — cocks and hens, -^^ .- gaudy fl o w e r s , men and beasts, sewed together in d i am o n d s and squares. The room was on the sunny side of the house, and the sun, for a won- der, was streaming in at the window ; the warmth of a large stove in the adjoining chamber penetrated it pleasantly. Here Hubert was installed, and here, by and by, Mrs. Bruce came and sat by him, knitting a stocking. Her fingers flew fast, and she chatted cheerfully, about all manner of things. That first day Hubert was too languid to talk much himself. He slept a good deal, and the rest of the time liked to lie looking at the patterns of his bedquilt. Mrs. Bruce had lived all her life in the country, where her pa- rents and grandparents were born and died, true representatives of the New England type. She remembered herself a primitive sort of life, and she could repeat also a thousand traditions of olden times. THE RED SCHOOLHOU.SF. 68 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. "My grandfather," she said, "was a schoolmaster, just as Mr, Bruce has always been, but things were very different in old times. No such comforts as we enjoy fell to his lot, and yet he raised a large family. He kept school in the little red schoolhouse THE COLONIAL SCHOOLMASTER. T will show you, the first time we drive out. It is standing yet ; but you will see also, some day, what a fine Academy there is over at East Utopia. " School was held for two months in the winter, by a man, and for two months in summer by a woman. The boys went in. winter, the girls in the summer. IN BED. G9 "My grandfather," she said, "was scarce out of his teens when iie began teaching, and some of his boys were bigger than he was. He did think of studying for the pulpit, but he kept straight along teaching all his life. His pay was small, but he did not have to lay out any of it on his keep, that is, not till after he was mar- ried, for the district paid for his board with whatever farmer would board and lodge him the longest time for the amount. *' In some districts this was far too expensive a method, and the master was expected to live with the parents of his pupils, regu- lating the length of his stay by the number of the boys in the family who went to his school. So it happened that in the course ■of his teaching, he became an inmate of all the houses in the dis- trict, and not seldom had to walk five miles, in the worst of weather over the worst of roads, to his school. But he was always a welcome and honored guest. He slept in the best room, sat in the warmest nook by the fire, and had the best food set before him at the table. In the long winter evenings, he helped the boys with their lessons, held yarn for the daughters, and escorted them to spinning matches and quiltings." "What are quiltings.^" asked Hubert feebly. " Why, that quilt that you are lying under was made at a quilt- ing bee," said Mrs. Bruce; "it was when Grandfather Horner was ■courting his wife." "What! My Horners .? " "To be sure. Tom's great-grandfather was this same school- master. We have quilting matches now once in a while, up here in the country. When you get well, I will show you the great •quilting-frame in the garret." When Mr. Bruce came in to see Hubert after dinner, and heard what they had been talking about, he added some of his own remi- niscences, as a schoolbov, when manners were but little changed irom those of a hundred years ago. They used to sit eight hours a day on hard benches, poring over Cheever's Accidence, puzzling 70 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. out long words in Dilworth's Speller ; they had to read long chap- ters in the Bible, and learn by heart Doctor Watts' Hymns for Children ; to be drilled in the Assembly Catechism ; to go to bed at sundown, get up at sunrise, and live on brown bread and pork, porridge and beans. When Sunday came round, or, as they called it, the Sabbath, they found it anything but a day of rest. There were long prayers in the morning by the master, and commenta- ries on some Scripture text to be got by rote before meeting,, to which, dressed in their best, they marched off, with ink-pot and paper, to take down the heads of the sermon, in order to give what account of it they could at evening prayers. Between morn- ing and afternoon meeting they were indulged with a cold dinner. "The master did not, in old days, consider it his duty to explain anything to his school. His business was to stand, rod in hand,, while his pupils pondered hopelessly over lessons which ten words would have made clear. There were no modern appliances to help the eye and mind, such as maps and charts, blackboards, globes and models." " Oh, dear," sighed Hubert, " I'm glad I was not there ! " The early colonial schoolboy had more trouble with his arithmetic than those of the present day, on account of the confusion caused by the different kinds of coin. Our easy table — !0 niill.s nuike ;i cent 10 cents make a dime, etc., would have seemed to him but a trifle. Until after the framing of the Constitution, there was no national currency based upon a universally recognized unit. The English pound and the Spanish milled dollar were equally current, the pound being divided into shillings and pence, while the Spanish dollar was divided into shil- lings, Spanish bits or pistareens, half-bits or half-pistareens, coppers or pennies, while these varied in value in different States. The rS' BED. 73 schoolboy therefore was expected to convert with readiness pounds and shilhngs into dollars and bits, and to know whetijer a pista- reen, New York money, was worth more or less than a pistareen, New England money. Not that he was allowed to spend himself many of either. COLLECTION OF COINS. 74 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. CHAPTER VIII. REGULAR LESSONS. HUBERT'S illness was hardly anything more than the over fatigue of his voyage. The rest in the quiet country house where he now found himself, the gentle care of Mrs. Bruce, and her husband's pleasant manner to him, were all comforting and salutary. In a few days he was anxious to be up and out, espe- cially as there began to be signs of spring weather. One morning he asked Mrs. Bruce, when she came in as usual, after her household cares : " Whose voice is that I heard down-stairs .-* A little girl's voice,, I should think." "That is Alice," replied Mrs. Bruce with a smile, "my niece, who lives over in that house." She pointed through the window at a house not very far distant. " She has been here once or twice to hear how you are, and she wants to see you. See, here are a few May-flowers ! By the time you are well, there will be plenty in the woods, and she wants to go with you and show you where to find them." Hubert had never seen the pretty flowers of the Epigcea rcpcns, trailing arbutus, or May-flower. It bears all these names, the first being its true botanical one, the second given to it, in various places where it grows, for no imaginable reason, and the last a tribute to the welcome it gave, the first spring flower they saw, to the Pilgrims at Plymouth, after the dreary winter of 1620. That afternoon, when Hubert had been established in llie old easy chair, and partaken of a juicy bit of beefsteak, Alice Martin REGULAR LESSONS. 75. was allowed to come up and make him a visit. As soon as he saw her, he recognized the pretty girl in the snow storm, whom he had noticed the day he arrived. She looked about his own age, and she was very pretty. At first, she was shy, and so was Hubert. Neither of them thought of anything to say, after the first few sentences. "Are you Tom Horner's cousin.?" asked Hubert^ at length. " Sixth or seventh only, I believe," said Alice, " and you know I have never seen any ot the Homers. They have never been here, and I have never been in New York. I suppose they are rather stuck up, they have been abroad so much." Alice had been boarding at A,. ^ East Utopia, to "attend the :^0^ Academy," for two- " <3f years, from which .she had returned feeling herself some- what superior to or- dinary beings, which accounts, perhaps, for ascribing to oth- ers the condition called "stuck-up." " Oh, no, they are not in the least!" cried Hubert, prompt to defend his friends, " al- though I don't know at all what you mean, only something unpleasant." "Oh, I didn't mean anything unpleasant," hurriedly replied the MAY-FLOWERS. A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND II0:ME. num. iii"»'^^ijw>iJi*iMrjrx«c'»'u.UjjuH^ijiij (-.OING AFTER MAV-IXU\VKKS. girl, as she buried her face in the sweet-smelling May- flowers. " Are they not sweet ? " she continued, to change the subject. "We are going to have a party to gather them, as soon as they are plenty. Won't " With pleasure," replied Hubert, "only if it is a large party I shall be afraid." " You stick close to me," said Alice with a smile, "and you will be safe enough." Not many days after- wards, the party came off, — several children of REGULAR LESSONS. 77 the place, with Alice and Hubert, and Professor Bruce, as young and active as any of them. Going after May-flowers has not the ideal charm of going a-May- ing as described by the poets. Hubert knew nothing of an Eng- lish May, as his life had been chiefly passed away from home ; but he fancied there must be a difference. The day was bright. The road was muddy ; after they had turned from it into a wild cart path through the woods, they walked on damp, dead leaves of the year before. By and by they came to a sort of opening, where the sun EARLY SETTLERS. streamed in and made it warmer. Tall pine-trees surrounded the spot, and the ground was red with the fallen pine tassels. " Here it is ! Mine is the first ! " cried Alice. Hubert had seen nothing, though he was walking by her side: 78 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. but now, as she stooped, he perceived she had found a bunch of the pretty, starry flowers, poking their heads up from the leaves and pine tassels. To his surprise, as she pulled the stem, a long string of the plant came up. with plenty of flowers attached to the strong stems. The leaves were of the year before, which, .under the warm covering of fallen pine, had passed the winter A RUDE BEGINNING. comfortably, the incipient buds hidden in their axils, all ready with the first breath of spring, to push up and open. After this they found plenty, and their baskets were rapidly filled. A kind of mania seized every one to find the pinkest blossoms. There was every shade, from pale pure white to deep- ening rose color. Mr. Bruce wandered off, searching for botanical specimens, but there was nothing yet to be found. The May-flower precedes everything else. Evergreen ferns, left from the autumn, and bright REGULAR LESSONS. 7j) green moss, in the wet places, were the only variety of color upon the gray and reddish tints of bare branches, and the yellow leaves still clinging to birches and some oaks. As they came home by a roundabout road, Hubert saw, for the first time, maple-trees ready for sugaring. Each tree had a hole bored in its trunk, and a pail hanging on a peg below the open- ing, waiting for the sap to run. All the pails were empty. "The sap don't run worth a cent this year," said Mr. Brick, the day he drove them over ; " we don't seem to have the rio-ht kind of nights. Real cold, and then the sun out bright afterwards. That's what makes it come. I ain't sure as there'll be 'ny more sugar." Somehow or other there was sugar, and very delicious maple syrup, to be eaten on griddle cakes and waffles. Meantime, Hubert's trunks had arrived ; and he had returned to the up-stairs room, where he installed himself with all his pos- sessions. A corner of the library was also allotted to him, and regular lessons began. Mr. Bruce found him on the whole, better grounded than Mr. Horner had led him to hope ; the boy's training had been so desultory, there was little reason to expect much in the way of results. He wrote a good hand. His spelling was rather wide of the mark, bearing traces of the different languages he had made acquaintance with. As yet, he had no settled habits of study ; but he was willing to apply himself, and on the whole, did not waste much of the three hours, daily devoted to study, in scribbling over pieces of paper, and practising styles of hand- writing. He read aloud every day, for Mr. Bruce believed that daily practice alone makes perfect in an accomplishment so well worth having as a good style of reading and enunciation, not elocutionary, but simple and distinct. Hubert was surprised to find how much ground he went over 80 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. by such steady reading aloud for two hours every day. It seemed much slower than reading to himself, and yet the pages of Palfrey's New England melted like snow beneath the sun ; and he found, moreover, that what he read in this way he understood and en- joyed more thoroughly than what he read to himself, in the skim- ming, skipping fashion which may suit a story book, but is bad as a habit. The Plymouth Colony was the first of the early settlements of New England. It was followed by others, and in 1692, united with that of Massachusetts Bay, under the name of Massachusetts, which, being thus first settled, was in a manner the parent of the later colonies. Maine was one of the earliest parts of the country visited and explored by Europeans. An English colony tried to establish it- self there, and a French colony soon after. But in the end, during the colonial period, Maine was reckoned as a part of Massachusetts. New Hampshire was visited very early, and Portsmouth and Dover were settled in 1623. These settlements were chiefly on the coast for fishing ; the colony extended very slowly, and it was long before the northern and interior townships were filled up ; in many cases, by people coming from Scotland and Ireland. By the time of the American Revolution, New Hampshire was a strong and in- dependent colony, taking its name from Hampshire in England, whence came some of its early settlers. Vermont was first explored in 1609; but had no European set- tlers for more than a century after that. Down to the time of the Revolution it was not recognized as a separate colony, but went by the name of the " New Hampshire Grants," as if that State had the control of its land. New York, however, also laid claim to these same "Grants;" it was a long time before the Green Mountain Boys, as they called themselves, became inde- pendent of the other colonies. The name Vermont means only Green Mountain. KEGULAE LESSONS. 81 During all this time the different eolonies were under rulers appointed from England, and had no thought of a separate gov- ernment. The first planting of the soil, and foundation of settle- ments, from the very beginning, as we have seen of the seventeenth century up to the period of the Revolution, were under the au- spices of the English government. The wars were English wars, the troops were British troops, who fought against the enemies of the English crown, whether French or Indian. Up, therefore, to the time of the separation, the interests of the American colonies and of the Home Government were the same ; and the colonists became involved in the quarrels between England and France. Thus the war known in American History as " King William's War," in which Indians fighting for the French, perpe- trated horrid barbarities upon the settlements of the colonies, was in fact between England and France, or rather between Catholic France and the Protestant countries of Europe. It lasted for nine years, during which Louis the Fourteenth of France won many battles ; but at the end of which he was willing to make peace^ at Ryswick, just before 1700. LARCH CONES. 82 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. CHAPTER IX. AN ADVENTURE. A" LICE and Hubert became, perforce, constant companions ; not so much from any great congeniality, as by strength of circumstances. Hubert felt himself greatly superior to the country girl, who, in spite of certain airs and graces acquired at school, was lacking in polish, and whose pronuncia- tion of some words was a constant surprise to him. Alice, on the other hand, while she stood in awe of Hubert's fine manners, and somewhat dainty ways, held her own very well. She had no idea of being patronized, and if on any occasion there seemed danger of his getting the better of her, in points of etiquette or good grammar, she readily turned the tables on him by exposing his utter ignorance concerning all country things. The science of the barn, the hen-coop, and the farm was one in which she was well versed, while he had not even studied its rudiments. Mr. Martin, the father of Alice, owned a large farm, and with the help of many men, took care of it himself. As the spring opened, Hubert spent most of the time over at Alice's, where the attractions for the two children were greater than at the professor'.^. Hubert loved animals, and he delighted in the long barn, where the long row of cows and a yoke of oxen were at home in their stalls, six of them, sticking out their great friendly heads, and AN ADVENTURE. 80 giving steamy puffs of breath that smelt like hay. He was, to tell the truth, a little afraid of them, and never learned to venture so near them as Alice did. Hens wandered freely about the place, and took familiar liberty with the good-natured cattle, and little birds flew in at the door to peck the scattered corn upon the ground. Over the horse-stalls was the loft, reached by a somewhat shaky set of steps, where feats of climbing could be performed by means of THE OLD BARN. the bars, stretching from one stall to another. Alice was well versed in these feats, although at fifteen she considered them beneath her dignity ; she rather despised Hubert for his awkward- ness in getting about over beams and down cribs ; it was an awkwardness caused by ignorance rather than want of courage, and at last a little adventure redeemed him in her eyes from a sus- picion of cowardice. S4 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. Above one part of the barn was a large barn-chamber, so called, which ran the whole length of the building. It was approached by a steep flight of stairs, directly at the top of which was the door opening outwards with an old-fashioned latch, and secured from swinging by a stout hook on the outside. The great room had been used for all sorts of things, — threshing on the floor, drying corn, and the like, but now was nearly empty, with the exception of a pile of old barrels, broken rakes, and the remains of a de- crepit sleigh which were heaped up in one corner. The place was lighted at each end by a small window with a number of small panes, covered with the dust of ages, and plentv of cobwebs. Hubert took a sort of fancy to the long, low, dingy apartment, and he proposed tO' himself, when Tom came, to make it the scene for some tourn- ament, wrestling match or theatricals. One afternoon, Hu- bert came over as us- ual ; it was a windy day, and not very attractive outdoors, and learning that Alice was not at home, he established himself alone, in the sitting-room, and soon became absorbed in a book which he found there. FAMILIARITY. AN ADVENTURE. 85 By and by Alice came in, full of high spirits after a walk in the wind and sun. Hubert looked up, but did not otherwise notice her, going on ■with his book. This was not unusual, for the two were so much together, scant ceremony was used between them. Now, however, Alice unfortunately wanted to talk. " Hubert, there are cowslips down in the brook. I wanted to get them, but I had on my good boots and I was afraid of wetting them." "Ah.''" said Hubert, reading on. " But if you will go, I will put on my old boots. Do you have •cowslips in England, Hubert ? " "Yes, plenty. Just let me finish this." "What, that HVrt^r Awake? It is an old one. I read it long :ago, and guessed all the riddles." Hubert grunted, and shook himself as he would to drive off an impertinent fly. This roused Alice, and she laid hold of the book to pull it away from him, whereat he sprang up in deep dis- pleasure, and exclaiming, half in fun, " Alice, you are a nuisance," he dashed off out of the open front ■door, with his Wide Awake still in his hand. Alice followed, and an active chase ensued, round the house, in and out of the gar- den, which suited her very well, as she considered it all fun. Hubert, however, was in earnest, and really wanted to get out of the way. As she fell behind a corner of the barn, he darted into it without her seeing him, and up the stairs to the barn chamber, unhooked the hasp, let himself in, and hastened to hide himself behind the sleigh. The door swung to in the wind. As Hubert heard no sound of Alice following, he ventured to peep out of the window, and saw her in full career running away from the barn toward the house, where, luckily for him, at that moment, her •mother appeared, calling her. With a sigh of relief, Hubert slid down upon the floor and fin- ished his story ; then went on to consider the rest of the number. 86 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. It was perhaps an hour after that he got up, stretched himself, and thought of looking up Alice, to make peace with her. He went to the door, lifted the latch, and found it would not open. Shaking it did no good, neither did kicking it, though he tried both, and though it was a loose old door, on rusty hinges ; but of course he did not care to break it down. A very slight inspection showed that it was hooked on the out- side. At first he was very angry, suspecting a trick played upon him by Alice, but when he came to think about it, — and he had THE r.ARN FLOOR. plenty of time to think, — he was convinced that the great hook on^ the outside had fallen over of itself into its hasp when the door was blown to ; and this must have been the case. Hubert resolved to be philosophical, and he returned to his Wide Aivakc. But the number had lost its charm ; interested as he had been at the first in its contents, he was indifferent tO' reading it over so soon a second time. Moreover, he was hungry. So Hubert set about looking for means of deliverance. He tried AN ADVENTURE. 87 the nearest window, the one which looked toward the house. It stuck fast, and he soon perceived that the sash was kept down by stout nails. After giving the door one more futile shake, he crossed to the other end of the chamber, and tried the window there. That too was fastened, but more loosely, the woodwork of the old window-pane was rotten, and the nail which held it gave way, so that he could pull it out. To his great joy, he pushed up the little sash, and looked forth. There was barely room for his head and shoulders to push through, and when he looked down, the prospect was not promis- ing of escape. The ground was some fifteen feet below, and the nature of it not attractive, the pigpen being placed directly under this part of the barn. Two immense great hogs were grunting in a good old-fashioned sty ; they turned their emotional noses upward at the unusual sound over their heads, caused by the opening of the window, and gazed feebly at Hubert with their small blinking eyes. '• Pig ! pig ! " called Hubert, and flattered them by imitating their noise, "how shall I get out of this window.-'" There was nothing to keep the sash open when it was not rest- ing on the back of his neck. Hubert continued his inspection of the outside for a few moments, and at last determined on a some- what precarious plan. Meanwhile, teatime arrived. "Is Hubert going to stay to tea.?" asked Mrs. Martin of her daughter. " I don't know," replied Alice crossly. " He is a tiresome, hate- ful boy. I don't care what becomes of him. I dare say he has gone home, and I hope he will never come back ! " "Why, what's the matter.?" exclaimed her mother, surprised. She was a thin, nervous woman, given to worrying. " He cannot have gone home, for here's his hat on the chair." 88 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. " Probably it's the English fashion to go home without your hat," said Alice, "especially when you take French leave." " Now don't be silly," said her mother, with a plaintive tone. " You must look him up, Alice ; he is not used to the place, and if he should get lost, and a foreigner at that" — Mrs. Martin looked as if she thought the diplomatic harmony between America and England might be disturbed by the loss of Hubert. Alice replied : "The great baby! Can't he take care of himself.-*" She saw her mother was seriously angry ; and besides she felt a little anxious herself. As she suspected Hubert was still lurk- ing in the barn, she turned her steps in that direction, looked into it, went through it, but was too proud to call to him. As she came out at the further end, she was just in time to see Hubert in mid air, one leg still within the barn, the other placed upon a precarious wooden spout, or gutter, which slanted along below the window. Alice gasped, afraid to scream. Her anger was changed to gen- uine alarm. Two steps along the spout, still grasping the window-sill with his hands, brought Hubert to an upright gutter-way which ran up and down the barn, slightly projecting from it. He clasped it, pre- pared to slide down. The whole thing gave way, and he was precipitated into — the pigsty ! AT UUMt:. MOLLY STARK'S BONNET. 89 CHAPTER X. MOLLY STARK S BONNET. HUBERT'S landing-place, though not attractive, was a very lucky one, for he fell without coming to the slightest hurt. Alice's scream brought old Jacob from the barn ; the pigs, astonished at the arrival of their headlong guest, left him the field. He was :soon picked out of the mire in a sorry plight, so ridiculous that he had to laugh, in which Alice joined him, half-crying, at the same time. This was the end of the adventure. The old gutter was never put up again, having served its last good purpose in promoting Hubert's escape. Peace was made, in few words, between the two young people, and Hubert secretly became a hero in Alice's eyes, though the older folks reproved his heedless rashness. After this, Alice learned to leave Hubert alone when he was absorbed in reading, while Hubert also resumed a little of his early polite- ness to her, feeling that he had been at fault. The farm of Mr. Martin was a very prosperous one, carried on with all the modern improvements ; Hubert saw all sorts of machines, of which, during the summer, he came to know the use ; such as were little thought of in the early colonial days. Thresh- ing and mowing machines, drills, potato-diggers, hay-rakes, corn- cutters, were all unknown a hundred years ago. The Massachusetts farmer who witnessed the Revolution, ploughed his land with the wooden bull-plough, sowed his grain broadcast, and when it was ripe, cut it with a scythe and threshed it with a flail, on the floor of such a barn-chamber as was the scene of !.0 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. cially as was still Hubert's imprisonment. Very simple, too, were the circumstances of his life, and his daily habits. His food was of the plainest kind, served upon coarse crocker}^ and eaten with the knife chiefly, for silver forks were unknown. Split-spoons, these were called by the country folk,, when first introduced, but this was later. Beef and pork, salt fish,, dried apples and vegeta- bles made up the daily fare from one year's end to the other. In these early days of New England, wheaten bread was not so com- mon as that made of Indian corn. A mi.\ture of two parts of Indian meal, with one of rye, has continued far into the present century, to furnish the bread of the great body of people. Hubert liked it very well, good brown bread, espe- buttcrcd toast, which on Sunday morning, with baked beans, the regular breakfast jirovided by Mrs. Bruce. In old times,. .•\ I'UKITAN lJAUt.il ] J l; MOLLY STARK* S BONNET. 91 the minister had white bread, for brown bread gave him the heart- burn, and he could not preach upon it, according to the idea of the day ; but brown bread is now universally considered very healthy, and a useful change upon too much white. OLD DAYS AND WAYS. If the food of the farmer was plain, so were his clothes, which would, to his descendants, be thought to furnish a wardrobe scanty in the extreme. For going to meeting on the Sabbath, and for state occasions during the week, he had a suit of broadcloth, or corduroy, which lasted him a lifetime, and was at length bequeathed, little the worse for wear, with his cattle and his farm, to his son. The suit in which his neighbors commonly saw him, the one in which «2 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. he followed the plough, tended the cattle and dozed • in the chimney- corner, was of cloth spun and woven at home. The New England farmer, we may suppose, had no great regard for the fashions, as he took whatever was supplied to him in whatever form it came. It is interesting' to see how the steeple- crowned hat of the Puritan, with jerkin, small clothes and ruff, gave way to the cocked hat, straight coat, with large cuffs and square-toed shoes, introduced in the reign of William and Mary. These have been followed in the course of the century by gradual changes. Breeches have grown to trousers, jerkins have become cutaways, and the steeple crown has turned into a bean-pot. To us, a rough country boy driving a sled through the woods Ti:^! ^^M^^$$ MM>^ S«-f-tu ••- oi.n sivi.K in a three-cornered hat and breeches, seems like a masquerade; but to bim it was as natural as a wide-awake and ulster. Such was the dress of the fanner. A man of fashion or means in the last century, with clothes based on the same models, was far more splendid. Me wore a three-cornered cocked hat heavily laced. His hair was done up in a queue, and profusely powdered. His MOLLY STARK'S BONNET. 93 coat was light-colored, very long in the back, with silver buttons engraved with the letters of his name. His small clothes came scarce to his knees, his shoes were adorned with huge buckles : HOME MANUFACTURE. his vest had flap-pockets, his cuffs were loaded with lead to keep them in place. Thus it seems that the fashions of men are as changeful and fantastic as those of women. The simple costume of the Puritan maiden, with her modest cap, gave way to cumbrous hoops and huge bonnets, even in the country where gorgeous brocades, tall feathers and high-heeled shoes were not likely to be seen. In the garret of the Bruce house was an immense collection of bonnets of all ages ; and in a period of rainy days, Hubert and -94 A FAMILY FLKiHT AROUND HOME. Alice found some amusement in rummaging these specimens of head gear. Mrs. Bruce promised to come up and give the history of some ■of these things. "For I dare say," she said to Hubert, "I can find the bonnet I wore to Mrs. Horner's wedding. It was considered a gorgeous thing; sent for to New York on purpose for the occasion."' Alice and Hubert pleased themselves by trying to discover in MOU.Y STARK'S bonnet the collection which was the one that had appeared at the' wedding of Tom's father and mother. " Let us take it down-stairs, and when Bessie comes she can wear it," said Hubert. "You talk a great deal about Bessie," said Alice, with a little impatience, " is she so very wonderful ? " " She is not so very wonderful," replied Hubert, who was MOLLY STARK'S BONNET. 95 sitting in an old swing, which, strange to say, was suspended from a beam of the old garret. "She is simply the nicest girl that ever was." "Oh," said Alice. "But then, she is older than you," added Hubert consolingly, as if to imply that Alice had time for improvement. "Do you believe they will really come up here.?" asked Alice. "What! the Homers.? Of course, Tom certainly, and I do hope Bessie will come. But let us see about the bonnets." After a good deal of disagreement, they settled on one bonnet which had an air of faded style about it, they both thought; so they brought it down to Mrs. Bruce, whom, after some search, they found in the very kitchen from which a delicious odor, and an equally alluring sound, issued. She was frying doughnuts ; a dish piled up with hot brown rings was on a table near the stove, on which the rest of the batch were hissing and sputtering in the hot fat. The doughnuts at once turned the thoughts of the young peo- ple, and, for a few moments, they discussed with tooth and tongue, two favorable specimens, fresh from the fire ; but afterward Hubert said: "See, Mrs. Bruce, is this the wedding bonnet.?" "That — no, indeed; why, that bonnet belonged to Molly Stark!" But who was Molly Stark.? Such ignorance was punished by the banishment of the offenders from the kitchen, where indeed they were in the way, while the batch of doughnuts was much in danger from their presence, and Hubert betook himself to the library, with the intention of looking up Molly Stark. His attention was again diverted, however ; for on the library table a letter was lying for him. It was from Bessie Horner herself, and when Alice was allowed to read it, she was forced to acknowledge it was a very good letter. The excellence of it lay chiefly in the good news that the Horner house in New York was to be shut up at once, and that 96 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROtJND HOME. Mrs. Horner and Bessie herself would come for a while, at least, to Utopia, on the first of June. May was now drawing near its end, so there would not be long to wait. Tom was still busy at school, but he and his father were to. shift for themselves, like many other unfortunate New Yorkers de- tained in town after the dust and heat have driven away their families. •'But just imagine where they are to be!" added Bessie. "Miss Lejeune will of course be away in June, and papa and Tom are to live in her apartments, and have dinner and all, ^^if they like, sent in from the restaurant below, just as she does." "I wonder where Miss Lejeune is going.?" said Hubert to him- self. "Is she splendid also.?" demanded Alice. "It would do you a great deal of good to know her," replied Hubert, with a smile. Bennington is a town in the southwestern part of Vermont, noted as "the place in which one of the early battles of the Revo- lution was fought. In I777 ^he British army of General Burgoyne, marching to the South from Canada, created great commotion in New Eng- land, since Boston was supposed to be its point of destination. General Stark, who chanced to be at Bennington, has- tily collected the continental forces in the neighborhood, and after a hot action of two hours, forced the enemy to retreat. The battle was renewed, but the Brit- ish were obliged to retire, leaving behind ///// ///, THE Hli.N.NI.NC.TON IRUNK. their baggage and ammunition. This was on the morning of Augu.st i6, XJTJ. As he led the men to the attack, Stark cried out to them : " See there, men ! there are the red coats ! Before night they MOLLY STARK'S BONNET. 9^ are ours, or Molly Stark is a widow." So much Hubert learned. "Mrs. Bruce," said he, pausing to attract her attention, still concentrated on the doughnuts. "Well.? " " I don't believe that was Molly Stark's bonnet at all ! " "Why not.? You are a daring boy, to doubt the traditions of the family ! " "Why, because I don't see how it came in your garret!" "That was because my grandmother used to spend a great deal of her time at Bennington." " But the Starks did not belong in Bennington," said Alice, who had been looking up the subject with Hubert, "they were ' New Hampshire folks." " You young people are getting far too learned for me," replied Mrs. Bruce ; " all I know is, that amongst my grandmother's things there was a trunk called the Bennington trunk. It was an old hair trunk, with the hair all worn off of it; and this bonnet came out of that trunk, and it was always said to be Molly Stark's bonnet." MORE OLD BONNETS. 98 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. CHAPTER XL WILD FLOWERS. B" EFORE June came, bringing the Horners, the spring wild flowers came and went, with a rush, as their cus- tom is. It is in vain in order by the ahnanac, or reminding them when they are due, according to Gray's Botany. They insist upon waiting, past their dates, if necessary, until the inevitable warm breezes and hot suns summon them, after which they burst forth all together, and are gone. He who would sec and gather specimens of all kinds of wild flowers, has to lead an ac- tive life when they have once appeared. Professor Bruce was an enthusiastic bot- anist, who every year devoted himself at the right season, to the cariy wild flowers. He knew their homes, and where to watch for them, and was often tlic first to find the lit- tle blue hei^atica, hiding behind its stout old list year's leaf, which acts as a waterproof cloak to shield it jACK-iN-THK-rui.rrr WILD FLOWERS. 99 iintil it is ready to show itself. He knew that on the willow road, close by the edge of a flooded meadow, the overflow of the river at this season, there was sure pretty soon to be known, by a deep pink flush all over the bushes, the flowering of the rho- -dora, whose blossoms come out before the leaves appear. He knew that any time about then it was well to scan closely wet swamps among the bushes, for the sake of finding an early jack-in-the- pulpit poking up its head between huge light-green leaves of skunk ■cabbage, splendid in color and luxuriance. As for cowslips, no search was needed to find them, for they spread themselves abroad over the meadows in great yellow patches, as good as sunshine on a cloudy day. Hubert declared they were not real cowslips, and so they are not, from the English point of view, but Alice refused to call them anything else, or to believe that the English cowslip was any prettier than the American one. Our cowslip, commonly so called, is a caltha, botanically speak- ing, a flower nearly allied to the buttercup. In fact, it is a stout buxom buttercup, with thick stems, broad leaves and good, honest, bright yellow flowers, rather coarse to examine, but with plenty of sunshine in them. The proper popular name for it is marsh marigold, but as it is no more like a garden marigold, than it is like an English cowslip, it may as well .keep the prettier name. The English cowslip is a primrose, and is much like the pink primroses easily raised here in pots, but where it grows wild it seeks the open pasture, while primroses hide themselves in hedges, or in the shade and shelter of the woods. Cowslips, as well as primroses, are favorites of the poets. Milton calls them Cowslips wan that hang the pensive head; a description full of truth, for the English cowslip is essentially a jOO A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. pale hanging flower, unlike our sturdy marigold, which keeps its. head well up to the sun. Hubert was a Httle persistent in defence of his own cowslip, THE WILLOW ROAD. while these, he said, were cnlle.l nothins but n.arc-hlobs at home,. where they grew in plenty. Mr. Bruce came to the rescue when the quarrel was grown^g dangerous. , . . "Shakespeare's name for the marsh marigold is the prettiest. DcAibtlcss he means your mare-blob in the lines — Winking mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes ! " Con,p,o,„ises are never agreeable, but the diseussiou was silenee.l }t ln„k ulaee in the middle of a wet meadow, where Al.ce and RHODORA AND FRIJVGED I'OLVGALA. WILD FLOWERS. 103 Hubert were both gathering big bunches of the flowers in question. They turned away from them to pull up long-stemmed, pale violets, which grew also in the wet, very different from the little darker blue violets, scattered everywhere close to the ground hidden in their leaves. Here again Hubert was critical, for the wild violets in England are sweet-smelling, while ours, alas ! with the exception of the little white violet, have no perfume. " Come, friends," said Mr. Bruce at last, " I think I shall leave you and go home, unless you can find some better way to regard the flowers than squabbling about them. The true way is to enjoy what you have got, and not to be comparing it with things which you might, could, would or should have had at some past indefi- nite time." He spoke lightly, but with decision. He was, in fact, becoming a little wearied with the want of harmony between Alice and Hubert, which increased as the time went on. The solitude in which Hubert found himself away from boys of his own age, was having a bad effect upon him, and Alice had not sufflcient character to counteract it. However, the time would not be long before Tom Horner's arrival, which would, it was to be hoped, set everything to rights. "Let us come on, now," said Mr. Bruce; "if we go back through the woods, we shall find anemones and perhaps columbines." The anemone {ncjiioroso) of New England is a delicate little flower, hanging its head among the dead oak leaves in the woods, of every variety of "rose-tint, from pure white to deep pink. In other parts of the world, a flower, similar in construction, which bears the same name, is large and brilliant, sometimes bright red, like the field poppy, sometimes purple, again yellow. It is more showy, but not so delicate as the pretty little wind-flower, as ours is sometimes called. Not far off, in a cleft of rock, they spied the first columbine, holding itself up proudly, though its red head hung down with the 104 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. weight of its tubes filled with honey. Against this flower, Hubert had nothing to say. A little ashamed of his former mood, he burst into bud approbation of it, and after this he called it always his favorite. The next time they went for it the ground was red with its bright bells, and a slanting ledge of gray rock was covered with them. The columbine loves little crevices in rocks where a scanty measure of soil and moss is enough for its foothold. Not far off, but avoiding the rocks, grew the dog-tooth-violet, not a violet at all by the way, as it belongs to the lily tribe. It is said to have its name because the large bulb at its base bears a mark as if it were bitten by a dog's tooth. It is a graceful, pretty yellow flower, with long leaves shaped like those of the lily of the valley, spotted with brown. The trees at this time, the end of May. were still without their leaves, with the exception of a shimmer of green on the birches. The maples were red with their feathery blossoms appear- ing before the leaves, and all the woods in the distance were spread with a marvellous sheen of faint, delicate tints, green, pink, yellow, the most lovely effect of the whole year, and the most difficult to catch in a picture. Town people who do not reach the country before the middle of June or later, lose all this; it is a little early for comfort, for roads are bad, the weather is capricious, and the cities are stdl attractive. It is, though, a i^ity not to know the tender richness of the early spring foliage, as exquisite as the autumn tints arc brilliant. Through the many tinted branches, Hubert spied a mass of white, as if a flock of white pigeons had alighted upon a tree. "Ah," cried Mr. Hruce. "that is giant cornel, as we call it. Is it possible that is in blossom already ! " The tree was twenty feet or more high, and, still bare of leaves, was covered with large white blossoms, an inch or more across, showy and decorative in the extreme. WILD FLOWERS. 105 Hubert scambled up on a rock from which he could reach the blossoms, and broke off large branches of them. When they reached the house, they were laden with their trea- sures, the most conspicuous of which were the great white cornels. Mrs. Bruce was in gardening trim, her skirt turned up, old gloves on her hands, holding a trowel, with which she was turn- ing up the soil of the beds before the house. Crocuses were there, but already going out of blossom, tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils were iust coming on, and a great bed of lilies of the valley was crowded with buds. This was at the end of a long, warm day. The robins were sing- ing, the air was all full of golden light. Hubert and Alice sat down on the door- steps, laying their great bunches of flowers aside ; Mr. Bruce wiped his brow, for the last part of their walk had been fast. He was Avarm and tired. The children were tired, but it was a good comfortable tired, and it seemed delight- ful to sit and rest, and watch the changing lights. "I do believe," said Hubert, "that spring is just the loveliest ^^^-^\ ^:.-'-^ COLUMKINES AND DOG-TOOTH-VIOI,F.T. 106 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. season of the year. It is such fun to go off and find these flowers, and then to think that the whole long summer is conv ing." "Yes," said Alice. "Autumn is all very well, but then the days are short, and you know that winter is coming, with lessons, and cold weather, and India rubber boots." Mr. Bruce had gone to his library, and Mrs. Bruce had takers trowel, basket and gloves round the house to put them away in. the tool house. "Alice," said Hubert suddenly, "I think I have been very dis- agreeable to you lately. I mean to turn over a new leaf from, this very time." "Do you.?" said she simply; "well, then, I will too." M GIANT CORNEL A TELEQRAM. 107 CHAPTER XII. A TELEGRAM. IT was Saturday, the very last day of May, and Hubert was giowinp; restless, because no absolute tidings came of the plans of the Horners, He had been studying diligently all the morning, and as the clock struck one, ho shut up his books, stretched him- self, and went to the front dooi' to look about and draw a breath of fresh air. The village was quiet, as usual, but slowly coming up the steep hill before the house, he saw the singular phenomenon of a horse and buggy, and as it drew near, he recognized the now familiar face of Mr. Brick, who drove him over to East Utopia, with the Homers, on the first day of his life in Vermont. It seemed already an age ago. At East Utopia was the nearest railway station, and thus the nearest communication with the world which the Utopians had at command, was by means of the three-mile drive over the mountain. Such communication was not frequent, but Mr. Brick had been over twice ; once to bring Hubert's trunk, and once, a few weeks later, upon his own affairs. The mail carrier drove through three times a week from East Utopia to Burnett and back. '•Hallo! Mr. Brick," called Hubert, "what brings you over the mountain .'' " "Telegram, Mr. Hubert," was the brief reply, as Mr. Brick jumped out. He handed him a pale yellow envelope, and looked away, pretending to busy himself with the check-rein at his hor.se's head. 108 A FAMILY FLIGHT AKOlXD HO.Mi:. In the country the very outside of the yellow envelope means mis- fortune, as it is generally the bearer of tidings of illness or death. Hubert turned pale as he tore open the cover. He was not only relieved, but delighted at the contents. Meet u.s at lUiilington, Van Ness House, Monday evening. — Thomas Horner. His whoop of joy caused Mr. Brick to turn round. " Xawthing serious, I expect ? " " It is serious, Mr. Brick," cried Hubert. The good news spread through the house. Wr. Brick was engaged HEAD oi to come on Monday, to take Hubert to the necessary train at a preternaturally earlv hour of the morning. Sunday was ]-)assed in a pleasing state of wonderment as to what vhe plan was. wlio " us " meant, whom he was to meet at Burling- ton, and where they might be going afterward. " At any rate. I know it's something nice, for that's the way the Homers do things." " I wish I v\ere going," said Alice, with a sigh. A TELEGRAM. Ifl© " So do I," said Hubert, as the vague thought passed through his mind that he would like to have her. Monday came, and vrith the mail came letters to Mr. Bruce, ex^ plaining the intentions of the Homer family: but these arrived after Hubert was off, and he took his solitar)- joumev still in doubt and speculation on what was to happen next. This was Hubert's first essay at travelling alone in . ; - had to change cars for Montpelier at Wells River Junction, where many engines were snorting upon their respec: r many different destinations. But he mamr^ _ : train, when the time came, after waiting u; > teen minutes, and even to advise a woman. rr head, to stick close to the conductor of her hne. The train he took passed through Montj>elier, the capital of \'ermont, and then on to Burlington. It was dark when he arrived, but he could guess that Bur'insiton was a large city, from the bustle and importance of the An omnibus was in waiting to take him to the hoteL and after :hr delay of waiting for baggage, it started. The city seemed to be all up hill. It reminded him of arri\4ng at Mad-^' -" - : half- expected to see a custom house oflScial poke h> _ :_ the omnibus, demanding to examine the small baggage, but no such thing occurred. They stopped before the door of a large hotel, gaslight stream- ing from its many windows. The f)assenger3 gr " : t " *' r vehicle, and stood dazed in the bright light of a - ~.. the stree:. •' Hubert I *' said a voice, and Tom Homer seized him bv the hand. In a moment, he was hustled up a broad flight of stairs to a large parlor, where he found, to his delight, several friends. Mr. Homer was waiting for him in the HOXR. part of Xew England, are thronged with summer tourists. July and August, the popular months, are, however, in themselves hot, dustN- and uncomfortable : the discomfort is increased by the crowd. Therefore for those to whom it is possible, the fresh, long days of -early June are more agreeable for travelling. Hotels, just open for 122 A FAMILY FLIGHT AKOUND UOME. the summer, are clean and empty, landlords, maids and waiters are fresh and attentive ; above all, the fly, that pest of a New England summer, has not made his appearance. They began to ask Hubert about his life at Utopia, and Mr. Horner made some inquiry into his progress in lessons and read- ing. He found by the intelligent answers he received, that the bov was really interested in the subjects he had been going over, and fully ready to understand what they were to see of historic interest in the scenes of battle-fields and early events. "I should not wonder, Bessie," said her father, "if Hubert could give you points in American history already." "I am afraid he can, papa," she replied, "for I have not been cramming, you know." " I have not been cramming either," said Hubert. " But I have a few more ideas in my head than the day I landed, Tom. Then I hardly knew the difference between Bunker Hill and Plymouth Rock." Hubert was beginning now to see clearly how it was that New England became settled; how a century or more, after 1620, was occupied in contesting discovered territory with the French, the founding of towns and States, all under the name of colonies of England ; how the battles were the quarrels of England, embittered, of course, by the personal antagonism between the Indians and all white settlers. These difficulties were scarcely over, in the middle of the eighteenth century, when the greater one arose, of disagreement with the mother country. The growing colonies were become too strong to submit to home rule. Then came the Revolution, the war for the sake of freedom of the colonics, which resulted in the Declaration of Independence, in 1776. This, though the close of one struggle, was but the beginning of an effort for separate existence, for it was long before the United States became firmly ostablished. THE CHIME OF BELLS. 12a CHAPTER XIV. THE CHIME OV BELLS. r- |"»ICONDEROGA is particularly remarkable for the prominenl I place held in American History by its fortifications. As early as 1731, a century after its discovery by Champlain, the French built Fort St. Frederick, and occupied it, at Crown Point, and then, after a careful survey of the lake, advanced to Ticonderoga and began a fortification there in order to command the passage of the lake. This fort they called " The Carillon," or chime of bells, on account of the music of the falls near it. Soon after, the commander of the English and colonial army. Sir William Johnson, intended to attack the two French fortresses, but as the P'rench re-enforced them largely, he contented himself with fortifying P"ort William Henry at the southern extremity of Lake Georo-e, as he now called it for the first time, in honor of the English king, and in token of his empire over it. The P^rench name for the smaller lake was St. Sacrament. This was the beginning of the last French and Indian War,, which lasted from 1755 to 1759, and resulted in the loss by the French of their control over the region of Lake Champlain and the St. Lawrence. Fort Carillon remained in the possession of the French nearly all this time, but in 1759 it was invested by the English forces, and fell into their hands. Crown Point also was soon after abandoned. These events were closely followed by the final victory at Quebec, by General Wolfe over Montcalm, which closed the war. In 1765 peace was declared between France and England, which was a cause 124 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. for great joy among the war-worn inhabitants of the northern valley. The name of Fort Carillon was now changed to Ticonderoga, which means chiming ivatcrs, and it became an English fort. As the times were peaceful it was allowed to fall into decay, and was held by so small a force that it fell easily into the hands of Ethan Allen, one of the boldest leaders of the rebellious colonists, who, upon the receipt of the news of the battle of Lexington, sur- prised the fort, on the tenth of May, 1775, and captured the little garrison of fifty men, with their artillery and mu- nitions of war. Later the En- glish regained pos- session of it, and it continued in their hands until the end of the Rev- olutionary War, when its English garrison retreated down Lake Cham- plain, dismantling the fort. After this war, it was suffered to fall in- to ruins ; these are large enough in extent to give evidence to all its old importance. The ruins of the fort crown a rocky promontory close to the steamboat wharf. Near them rises a forest-covered mountain, beyond which the lake narrows to a river. Between the promontory and the mountains a stream issues from the woods and falls into the i'HE CHlMINi; VV.MEKii. INDIAN difficulties; THE CHIME OF BELLS. 127 lake, making the fall which Champlain heard, but did not see, which has given both the French and Indian names to the locality. Here the little party of Horners established themselves in the pleasant hotel, an old-fashioned mansion-house near the lake and PINK A7AI,EA. landing. It was interesting to scramble about the ruins of the fort, which though less extensive than those of Heidelberg, and less glowing than the Alhambra, have their own claim to the interest of Americans, while the views of the lake, and the mountains across it, are very lovely. There were ]:)lcasant expeditions to be made to Crown Point, along the lake, and to the top of Mt. Defiance, across the widenings of the outlet of Lake George. The summit is eight hundred feet above the level of the lake, and the view is very fine. The last excursion was accomplished by Bessie and the two boys, along the nearly vanished military road constructed by General Burgovne. The elder portion of the party were content to stay at home, and to receive the merry accounts of the returned climbers, and to put in water the branches of wild cherry-blossoms, pink azalea and the like, they brought back. There were good boats to be had. and often after tea the family went out to row on the lake. Tom, of course, pulled a good oar, 128 A FAMILY FLKillT AROUND HOME. and Bessie did fairly well for a girl. As for Hubert, he disgraced himself, and caught many a crab, having no knowledge of the art. He secretly resolved to remedy this deficiency. There was one boat large enough to contain the whole party, and in this family excursions were often made, not altogether pop- ular with Tom and Bessie, who had to do the rowing on such trips, but pleasant occasions for general talk. Mrs. Horner took her place always in the stern, under the vague impression that she could steer. Indeed she could, if she set her mind to it, but in the ardor of conversation she was apt to let the rudder stray at its own sweet will. This was of no great consequence, as the party were seldom going anywhere in particular. There were seats enough also for Miss Lejeune and Mr. Horner, in the stern. Mr. Horner always offered his services at the oars, but Bessie and Tom preferred to pull for themselves. Hubert, meanwhile, stretched him- self out 'in the pointed bow of the boat, enduring, as best he might, the slurs of laziness which were put upon him. He would have gladly taken his turn in rowing, but was too clumsy, as yet, to- be tolerated. One late afternoon, as they were floating about, rather than row- ing, among the shady nooks of a narrow part of the lake, Mrs. Horner exclaimed, " Augusta ! we have never told you about the Stuy vesants ! " "What about them.?" asked Miss Lejeune. " They have left Paris and come home to live." " Impossible ! " she replied. " Leave their beloved Avenue Jose- phine ! I can't believe it." "Nevertheless I have seen them," replied Mrs. Horner. " Thev are at the Fifth Avenue Hotel; all their furniture is stored some- where. Miss Stuyvesant is to come out in New York next win- ter ; they mean to s])end the summer in Newport, and they are looking about for a place for the twins." " Well, well ! " ejaculated Miss Lejeune. THE CHIME OF BELLS. 129 "Mamma thinks," called out Tom from his oar, "that I had best take the boys to Utopia for the summer." "And you do not approve of her plan?" said Miss Lejeune, in- quiringly. "The boys are nothing but a couple of monkeys," grumbled huffrt's private practice. Tom, "and if they are in mv charge, I had best engage a hand- organ at once, to go with them." "They may have improved," suggested Miss Augusta; "how old are they now.?" "Two years younger than I am," said Tom. " Come, Bessie, pull all you can, and let us trv, if we can, to turn the corner in time to see the sun go down." While they were both silent, putting all their forces into their 130 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. rowing, the grown-up people at their end of the boat went on dis- cussing the Stuyvesants. "Mr. Horner thinks," said his wife, "that their investments are down, and so they want to retrench." "The worst thing they can do^ then, is to try and live in New York and Newport." "Yes; but their establishment at Paris was very extravagant; if they give up their horses and their apartment there, they can manage more simply for a year or two, and then if their income improves, they can go back again." " RcciLler pour viiciix Santera remarked Miss Lejeune ; then sud- denly changing her tone, exclaimed, with every one else in the boat, " Oh, how lovely ! " Vigorous pulls of the rowers had brought the boat round a wooded corner to an open space, where the shores receded and lay flat before them, just in time to see the sun go down in a cloud- less sky, a ball of living fire. Tom and Bessie, panting, rested upon their oars. The little party watched the sun setting until the last rim had disappeared. "We ought to go home now," remarked Mrs. Horner; "it will be growing cool directly." "Who are these Stuyvesants.?" called out Hubert from the end of the boat. " They are some boys who were with us on the Nile," replied Tom; "they were small, ill-bred creatures, who had not the faintest idea of minding what anybody told them, least of all their father; as for their mother, she had no idea of telling them any- thing." "Tom! Tom!" called his father in a warning voice. "You arc hard on them, really, Tom," said Bessie. "One of them was rather nice, though I do not recollect which ; but Mary could manage them.'' "I say," began Hubert, "let us have them come to Utopia, Tom; THE CHIME OF BELLS. I4.i you've no idea how dull it is there withojt any fellows, only a o^irl to talk with all day long." "Only a girl! thank you!" said Bessie. "There are girls aud girls, you know. Bessie," quickly replied ■Hubert. " Alice Martin is all very well, but " — "Tell us all about her," said Bessie; and Hubert, sitting up in his end of the boat, began an account, lively for him, of his acquaintance with Alice Martin, his adventure in the barn, and other tales of his life in Utopia. " I think," said Bessie condescendingly, " that Alice must be a nice girl." *' But if there were other boys, we could have all sorts of o-ood excursions, and build huts in the woods, and that," pursued Hubert • "'^ especially little boys whom we could make mind." "You wait and see if you can make these boys mind," grumbled Tom. However, he did not vigorously oppose the scheme. Mr. Horner knew the Bruces wanted to fill up their house with boys for the summer, and he thought the chances were more in favor of two boys they already knew something about, than entire strangers. It was decided that he might as well talk to Mr. Stuyvesant about it, who was a sensible man. • r — — : . . ! L... ^ __.: [__. ____ I 134 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUXD HOME. CHAPTER XV. FRENCH AND ENGLISH CAMPAIGNS. THE English were not disposed to allow their F"rench enemie& the control of the two lakes, and Colonel Johnson was already making preparations to attack Crown Point when he learned that the French had firmly established themselves at Ticonderoga. The French general, Baron Dieskau, sent to defend Crown Point, deter- mined to advance upon the English, at their encampment upon Lake George. In this encounter the French were driven off, and Dieskau was mortally wounded. Johnson did not pursue them, or at that time make any attempt upon their works at Lake Cham- plain. The rest of the campaign of 1755 was spent by the Eng- lish in erecting a fort at the south end of Lake George, which was called William Henry, after the Duke of Cumberland. Up to this time, their nearest stronghold was Fort Edward, at the south- ern end of Lake George. At this time, the French side had the advantage of being con- trolled by a man of great heroism and courage. Louis Joseph de St. Veran, Marquis de Montcalm, was born in France in 171 2. He entered the army when fourteen years old, and had served bravely in several campaigns, when, in 1756, being then a brigadier- general, he was appointed to command the French troops in Canada. As soon as he arrived, he began operations against the English with great activity and success, making the field of his exertions the southern end of Lake Champlain. For this purpose, he col- lected at Crown Point and Ticonderoga all his forces, consisting of regular troops, Canadians and Indians. As early as the twen- FRENCH AND ENGLISH CAMPAIGNS. 185 tieth of March, 1757, he attacked Fort William Henry, but his object was defeated by the bravery of the garrison there, which Colonel Monroe was then sent to reinforce. The day after his arrival, the French and Indians, under Montcalm, again appeared upon the lake, effected a landing with but little opposition, and immediately laid siege to the fort. Montcalm at the same time sent a letter to Monroe, stating that he felt himself bound in humanity to urge the English commander to surrender before any of the Indians were slain and their savage temper further inflamed DEATH OF GENERAL WOLFE. by a resistance which would be unavailing. Monroe replied that as the fortress had been entrusted to him, both his honor and his duty required him to defend it to the last extremity. The garrison, amounting to only twenty-five hundred men, made a gallant defence, while Monroe, aware of his danger, sent frequent expresses for succor to Fort Edward, farther south, the head^ 136 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUXD IIOMI.. quarters at that time of the English commander, GcnerrJ Webb. But Webb remained inactive and apparently indilTcrcnt during these alarming transactions. On the eighth or ninth d.:y of the siege General Johnson was permitted to set out for Fort William Henry with some troops ; but he had proceeded only three miles when he received orders from Webb for his immediate return, Webb at the same time advising Munroe to surrender on the best terms he could obtain. Munroe and his garrison had defended themselves with much spirit, in hourly expectation of relief from Fort Edward, till the ninth of August, when all their hopes were blasted by the recep- tion of Webb's letter, which Montcalm had intercepted, and now sent in with further proposals of a surrender of the fort. Articles of capitulation were therefore signed, and no further trouble was apprehended. But the Indians belonging to the French army attached no importance to the pledge made by their general for the safety of the conquered enemy. The garrison had no sooner marched out of the fort than they fell upon the defenceless soldiers, plundering and murdering all who came in their way. On this fatal day more than half the English were either mur- dered by the savage's, or carried by them into captivity, never to return. The fort was entirely demolished ; the barracks, out-houses and building were a heap of ruins ; the cannons, stores, boats and vessels were all carried away. The French, satisfied with their success, retired to their works at Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; and for that year nothing more was done cither by French or English in this quarter. The Eng- lish had suffered much in loss of life and property, and had gained nothing. This want of success was chiefly owing to the inef- ficiency and ignorance of the Britisli ministry in relation to American affairs, which led as a natural result, to want of ability and energy in the generals to whom (he prosecution of the war was entrusted, a deficiency made conspicuous by the talent and boldness of Montcalm. FREXCU AND ENGLISH CAMl'AlGNfei. 1:^,7 The next year, however, the tables were turned. The repeated failure of the British arms in America created so much dissatis- faction both at home and in the colonies, that a change was found indispensable in the conduct of affairs, which began to assume a more favorable aspect. Instead of defeat and disgrace, victory and triumph now usually attended the English arms. On the other hand, the personal bravery of Montcalm, although it raised his popularity with his soldiers, could not redeem the want of energy of the French government. There was dissension in the -councils of the governor of Canada and the commander. Even in the midst of victory, Montcalm predicted that in the end the English would be masters of the French colonies in America. Resolved, however, to struggle to the last, and as he himself said, to find his grave under the ruins of the colony, he actively car- ried on the campaign. The English determined that the French settlements should be attacked at several points at once ; one of these was the strong- hold at Ticonderoga. The fort was favorably situated for defence, as can still be easily seen. It was surrounded on three sides by vv^ater, and about half the other side was protected by a deep -swamp, while the line of defence was completed by tlie erection of a breastwork nine feet high. The ground before this breastwork v/as covered with felled trees and bushes, to impede the approach of the enemy. The English general, Abercrombie, believing that this, place might be attacked with a fair prospect of success, marched forward, imdismayed by the heavy fire from the French, till they became ^entangled and stopped by the timber. For four hours they strove with their swords to cut their way to the breastwork, through branches and bushes, but the attempt was futile. At last they retreated, with severe loss, and were forced to hasten back to their encampment at Lake George. Everywhere else the British troops had been successful, and in 138 A FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. spite of the unlucky defeat at Ticonderoga, the confidence of the colonists began to revive, and that of the French to languish. The next year the French, dreading an attack which was in preparation, abandoned the fortress at Ticonderoga, and repaired t& Crown Point. This also they relinquished later in the summer, with- out destroying their works. While this was taking place on Lake Champlain, the brave Montcalm was concentrating his forces at Quebec, where General Wolfe, with a large army, presented himself. The success of the conquest of Canada depended upon the taking of that city. The battle on the Heights of Abraham, which decided the con- test, took place September 13, 1759. Both generals were deter- mined to conquer or die ; both fell at the head of their respective armies. The English carried the day, and the French were defeated^ dispersed or made prisoners. Montcaltn, having received one musket ball early in the action, was mortally wounded while attempting to rally son)e fugitive Canadians. On being told his death was near, he said, "So much the better ; 1 shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." He died the next morning, and his death was followed by the loss to France of Canada. "I should like to go to Quebec," said Miss Lejeune, adding, "do you mean to visit all the battle-fields of American history.?" with a smile, as she addressed Mr. Horner. " I am afraid wc shall not hold out to do that." he replied. "There are many other places of equal interest to Ticonderoga, merely looking at the story of these French and English contests for territory. It seems as if one place might serve as a sort of specimen for all. If we become interested in the scene of a part of the struggle, and study carefully the actual ground over which the contending parties came and went, we shall acquire a living knowledge of the whole. Of course it is to be remembered thnt this spot was hut one point in the struggle going on all along the line. The PAUL REVERE'S ride. FRENCH AND ENGLISH CAMPAIGNS. 141 story of Braddock's defeat, at Fort Du Ouesne, and the subsequent taking of it, is just as interesting as that of the events we are now looking at ; the fact that Washington was there engaged makes it perhaps more so. But," he added, " I doubt if the neighborhood is so picturesque." On the site of Fort Du Ouesne, in the western part of Penn- sylvania, the "city of Pittsburg now stands, and blackens the neigh- borhood with the smoke of its many chimneys. It was a post contested, like Ticonderoga, between French and English. Washington, then a young man, selected the spot for an English fort. The French drove away the workmen employed upon it, and finished the fort themselves, calling it Fort Du Quesne. A veteran English army was sent there "^ under General Braddock, with Washington as a staff \ . -l, ^3 oflicer, but the General was defeated, and mortally C.EN. DRADDOCK. wounded. This took place July 9, 1755. Three years after, Washington was again sent to Fort Du Ouesne, and took it at last. These events had great consequences among the colonists. They taught them that the red coats were not in- vincible, and in the training of battle, they themselves were pre- paring for the greater struggle against the same generals who were now their commanders. General Wolfe, the English commander at Quebec, displayed as much bravery as his French opponent. Hubert and Bessie had a quarrel over their respective merits, Hubert taking the side of the EngHsh hero, Bessie teasing him with her preference for the French. "Oh, come along, Hubert!" cried Tom, "what do you care for either of them } Come down to the lake for a row." 142 A FAMII.Y FIJ(4HT AROUND HOiME. CHAPTER XVI. LAKE GEORGE. NOTHING induced Tom to take an interest in these historical discussions. He was tall, strong and active, with a fine ap- petite, and thorough enjoyment of muscular exercises. He had never been known to devote himself to books, and was the only Horner without a decided aptitude for foreign languages. On the other hand, he was of a most genial, sociable disposition, and \vas a general favorite wherever he went, among schoolfellows, young ladies, .and especially matrons, to whom he had naturally an attractive, gratifying manner of addressing himself. Bessie was extremely pleased with Hubert's lately developed taste for lier favorite pursuit of history, and if she loved to disa- gree with him, it was to discover how well he could defend his ■own side of the question. "Hubert," she said, "how did you come upon all this knowledge about Wolfe and the Heights of Abraham.?" " Why, I have been reading about it, with Professor Bruce. You will like him, Bessie; he is just loaded to the muzzle with facts." After a charming week at Ticonderoga, our party left that place, and crossed Lake George, one afternoon, to Caldwell, at the head, or soutiiern end, of that lake. Here they established themselves at the huge Fort William Henry Hotel, built actually on the site of the old fort, witli a fine view down the lake. They found Lake George even more picturesque than its far larger companion, and plentifully supplied with points of historic LAKE GEORGE. ]4:'. interest of which the stories are, with time, becoming legends, like those of the Old World. "The only difficulty with our early history," said Miss Lejeune, •*• is that we still have to see it too near. It is like these hills LAKE GEORGE. in this clear atmosphere. They were intended to 'carry' for a long distance, and we come close up to them, like an amateur critic in a picture gallery." J44 A FAMILY FLK4HT AliOUxXD HOME. -Time is remedying that, Augusta, as fast as it can; it is already two centuries and a lialf since the first white man saw Lake George," said Mr. Horner. This was a Jesuit priest, Father Jogues, who was brought hither as a prisoner by Iroquois, in 1642, thirty-three years after Cham- plam had terrified the savages so that they fled in terror from his murderous weapons, to their home on the Mohawk. Smce then they themselves had been supplied with firearms, and learned the use of them, and now their turn of revenge was come. They took the war-path and infested the forests all over the country like ravening wolves. It was one of these hostile bands that had attacked Father ''jogues and his companions as he was returning with sup- plies from Quebec to a far-off mission where he was doing his best to give to Indians the faith and benefit of civilized life. Having seized these captives, the savages returned with them, inflicting horrid tortures to their home on the Mohawk, and thus they came, after passing "the chiming waters" at Ticonderoga, to the shores of the beautiful lake sleeping in the depths of the limited forest, the fairest gem of the wilderness. Jogues remained among the Mohawks for nearly a year, a cap- tive; in the midst of his suff-erings, he lost no opportunity to con- vert' his tormentors to Christianity. In a lonely spot in the forest he cut bark from a large tree into the form of a cross, before which, half-clad in furs, he used to kneel in prayer upon the frozen ground. One of bis companions tliey adopted into one of tl,e,r lamii.es; the other they killed. At last, after a year of sulfern,;;, Jogues managed to escape, and was secreted by the Dutch at fort Orange, near Albany. These l