As they expected to make their stay upon the island but short, and wished to see every interesting spot, all were up and about early the next morning.

Naturally the history of the State, and particularly of the island upon which they were, was the principal topic of conversation at the breakfast table. Walter began it.

"If my memory serves me right, it was somewhere about here that General Nathaniel Greene had his quarters in 1778."

"Yes," replied Captain Raymond, "on a farm owned by Colonel Richard K. Randolph."

"Why, I thought Greene's fighting was done in other parts of the country!" said Rosie.

"Most of it was," replied the captain, "but being a Rhode Island man he desired to take a part in the attack on the British, who had possession of Newport at that time. But I think you all know the story—the failure of the French troops to take the part expected of them, and to do the damage to the British vessels coming in from New York which they essayed to do; then the great storm which damaged the vessels, both of the French and English; and, soon after, the sailing of the French for Boston, leaving the Americans to meet the British alone.

"Then the battle was fought on Quaker Hill, after which, though not defeated, the Americans, hearing of the approach of Howe with large reinforcements for the British, retreated from the island to the mainland, in good order and without the loss of a man."

"Did the British go away too, papa?" asked Elsie.

"Not till the fall of the next year," he replied. "They had done a vast amount of mischief, and desolated the island; they had cut down the groves of forest trees and many of the orchards, for fuel and military purposes; they had torn up the meadows, destroyed gardens and ruined farms. So hard had they made life upon the island that many, it is said more than half the people, had left the island; wharves were deserted, commerce was destroyed, and trade abandoned. In December of 1778, the last winter that they were there, there was a fearful storm—a heavy fall of snow and cold so intense that many of the Hessians perished, frozen to death. Accounts say that more than fifty people, mostly soldiers, lost their lives on that fearful night, and it was long known as the Hessian storm. The poor fellows suffered very much that winter, for, after a little, rations were cut down to one-half of bread, made of rice and oatmeal mixed, the other half of rice. And fuel was so scarce that they must have suffered much from the cold; to supply it old houses were destroyed, old wharves torn to pieces. Old empty houses were used as barracks, and troops were quartered upon the people still living in others. The State-house was used as a hospital and some of the churches were turned into riding-schools.

"General Prescott had his quarters in the Bannister House, and it is said that his spacious sidewalk in front was made of stepstones taken from private houses, and the whole of the south flight of steps from those belonging to the State-house."

"I don't see in what respect he was any better than a thief and a robber!" cried Lucilla indignantly.

"No, nor do I," said her father; "but we must remember that some of the British officers were a very different kind of men and would not have at all approved of his doings. Prescott, as we all know, was a great coward, and cowardice and cruelty are apt to go together."

"Our Washington was very, very brave and never at all cruel," remarked little Elsie. "Papa, was he ever here?"

"He was in Newport more than once. His last visit was paid while he was President of these United States in August, 1790. He was escorted to the Brenton House, the principal hotel of the place; a dinner was given him in the representative chamber of the State-house, at which thirteen regular toasts were drunk, Washington giving one—'The town of Newport.' He left before the rest of the company, and then Judge Marchant gave the toast, 'The man we love.'"

"Oh, I like that!" said the little girl, her eyes sparkling. "I think everybody must love Washington—everybody but the British."

"And even some of the British have admired him very much," said her father, smiling at her enthusiasm.

"And given him high praise," added Walter. "I for one am proud of being his countryman."

All had now finished their breakfast, and leaving the table they repaired to the adjoining cottage, exchanged greetings with its occupants, then together they held their morning service, after which they arranged their plans for the day.

"As this is Saturday and I leave for Princeton on Tuesday next, I have only to-day and Monday for looking about and seeing places of interest in this neighborhood," remarked Walter.

"How and where do you want to go?" asked Mr. Embury.

"Down to the beaches, to all the places connected with the doings of Bishop Berkeley and the Revolution, all about Paradise Valley, and—to look at Purgatory; but not to get into it," replied the lad, concluding with a slight laugh.

"Do you want company or prefer to go alone?" was the next query, to which Walter replied, "I can go alone, I suppose, but I should prefer good company if it is to be had."

"Would mine answer that description?"

"Yes, indeed, sir! but, I daresay, you have seen all the places already and perhaps might be only bored by being asked to repeat your visit."

"Quite a mistake, my young friend; they are worth looking at time and again."

"I should think so," remarked the captain. "Suppose we make up a party of such of our members as would enjoy a pretty long stroll, go down through this valley to the beach yonder, visit Purgatory Rocks and as many other of the places of interest as we may feel inclined to see to-day and have time and strength to visit."

"I approve of your plan," said Molly. "I was thinking it would be best to defer our intended visit to that dear old lady in the Revolutionary house till Monday, as Saturday is apt to be a busy one with housekeepers."

"Yes," said Mrs. Dinsmore, "I think it will be quite enough to venture an intrusion upon her at the most convenient time for her that we can select."

"A real favor for her to permit it at any time," added Grandma Elsie.

They were gathered on the porch. Captain Raymond now rose and looking down toward the water said, "Ah, yonder is the Dolphin; according to my order of yesterday she has been brought here to afford a sail along the coast of the island to any who may desire it."

"Oh, how good and kind in you, captain!" exclaimed Mrs. Keith. "I for one should be delighted to go."

"All can sail who wish," said the captain. "The Dolphin has day accommodations for even a larger company than this, and of course we shall return long before night."

As he concluded, he looked at Mrs. Dinsmore as if expecting her to speak first, and as she was the eldest lady in the company she did so, saying: "I for one have been so long on the water that I feel a strong inclination to stroll down to the beach; though I have no doubt that the sail will be very enjoyable."

"How would it do to take the stroll to the nearest point to where the yacht is lying, and then continue your walk, or go aboard the vessel, as you feel inclined?" asked the captain.

"Oh, nicely! I think," she returned; "especially if some of the others would like to join me in so doing."

"I should," "And I," "And I," cried several voices, one of them being Grandma Elsie's, and another Violet's; while at the same time nearly every one of the children was asking permission to go along.

"Yes, yes! let them all go," said the captain.

"A walk to the beach down yonder will not be too long for any one of them, I think, and when we get there each one of our party can decide whether to continue the stroll or board the yacht."