Time moved on swiftly enough to the older people, busily engaged in preparations for the contemplated trip to Annapolis, yet with rather laggard step to the younger ones, who were in haste to experience its pleasures and excitements. But in the performance of school duties they one and all acquitted themselves quite to the captain’s satisfaction; even excitable Lulu finding it not nearly so difficult to concentrate her thoughts upon the business in hand as it had been when first her father began to act as tutor to his children. Also Marian’s companionship in her lessons during the second week was an assistance to renewed and increased interest in them.

But at length the appointed day for the sailing of the Dolphin came. Marian adhered to her decision to remain behind, attending to the preparation of her summer wardrobe, but the others, all in good health and spirits, were ready and eager for the trip.

The weather was charming, making their drive to the city delightful; the rest of the short journey on board the Dolphin—which they found awaiting them at the wharf and in the most beautiful order, everything about her deck and above and below looking spick and span as though she had but just come from the hands of her builders and decorators.

They arrived the day before that on which the graduating exercises were to be held, dropping anchor in the Severn just as the afternoon artillery drill began. They witnessed it from the deck and could see that Max was a prominent figure therein. He seemed to go into it most enthusiastically, and they all, his father especially, watched his every movement with pride and delight.

He had purposely left the lad in ignorance of the exact time of the expected arrival, and Max discovered the near vicinity of the Dolphin only when the exercises had come to an end. At the same instant a message from the commandant reached him, giving permission for him to go aboard the yacht and remain there until half-past nine that evening, and the Dolphin’s row-boat was seen to leave her side with the captain in it.

In a very few moments more Max was on the deck of the yacht, surrounded by those nearest and dearest to him, his father looking on with beaming eyes while they crowded around the lad with their joyful and affectionate greetings.

“Now, Max, sit down here among us and give a full account of yourself, your doings and experiences since we saw you last,” said Grandma Elsie with an affectionate smile into the bright young face, and making room for him by her side as she spoke.

Max gave his father an inquiring look, and receiving an approving nod in reply, took the seat and did his best to answer satisfactorily the questions which were showered upon him from all sides: queries as to the progress he was making in his studies, great-gun exercise, field artillery, infantry tactics, etc., and in regard to various other matters.

But a joyous bark suddenly interrupted the talk, and Max’s dog Prince bounded into the midst of the group, raised himself upon his hind legs, put his fore-paws on his young master’s shoulders, his tail wagging fast with delight, and tried to lick Max’s face.

“Why, hello, Prince, I’m glad to see you, old fellow!” cried the lad, patting and stroking him, but avoiding the caress. “There, that will do; you try to kiss harder and longer than any other of my friends.”

“P’raps that’s because I love you harder,” Prince seemed to say. “And it’s longer since I saw you last. The captain never invited me to come along before.”

“He didn’t?” laughed Max. “Well, I don’t believe you asked him; but I’m right glad to see you here at last. Also to find you haven’t forgotten how to talk.”

“No, my young master, but it’s the first time I’ve done anything in that line since you left me at Woodburn.”

By this time everybody was laughing.

“Oh, Max, who is making Prince talk—you or Cousin Ronald?” asked Lulu.

“See if you can’t find out for yourself, Lu,” laughed Max. “Suppose you ask Prince; surely he should know.”

“Well, I’ll try it,” she returned merrily. “Prince, who helped you to do that talking just now?”

“Why, who helps you to talk, Miss Lu?” came promptly in return, apparently from the dog’s lips.

“Oh, I don’t need any help in that line,” she returned laughingly, “and never have since I first learned how in my babyhood.”

“Do you never tire of talking, Miss Lu?” The query seemed to come from Prince’s lips as he looked up gravely into her face.

“No, I can’t say that I do,” she laughed. “Do you?”

“I am oftener tired of not being able to express my thoughts and feelings,” was the reply. Then the call to tea put an end to the conversation for the time.

Prince followed the others to the table and when all were seated laid himself down at Max’s feet. There he lay looking up into the lad’s face, and when the plates had been filled a low whine seemed to say he too would be glad to have a share of the savory viands.

“Just wait a bit, old fellow, and your turn will come,” said Max. “You never starve where my father is master, I’m sure.”

“No, that’s true enough; but it is not always so easy to wait when one’s hungry and sees other folks with plates heaped with savory victuals right before them. Why shouldn’t dogs be helped at once as well as men, women, and children?”

Prince’s tail swept the floor and his hungry eyes looked up wistfully into those of his young master as the words seemed to come from his lips.

“Well done, Prince! such efforts at speech ought to be duly rewarded,” remarked the captain gravely; then he directed a servant to take the dog out and feed him well.

“What is the programme for this evening?” asked Violet; “a trip up the river again?”

“If you and the others wish it, my dear,” replied her husband, to whom her query seemed to be addressed. “I had thought, however, of going down the river and bay, as we went up on our last visit here. We will put it to the vote of those present. I am quite indifferent personally as to which course we pursue.” It soon appeared that the majority were in favor of moving toward the bay, and on leaving the table the captain issued his orders, the Dolphin weighed anchor, and the wind being favorable, they sailed down the river and out into the bay.

“Annapolis is a very old town, is it not, Brother Levis?” asked Walter.

“Yes,” was the reply; “it was founded by the Puritans under Captain William Clayborne. He first settled over yonder on Kent Island in 1631, but was expelled from there—he and his adherents—in 1638, for refusing to acknowledge allegiance to the newly established government of Lord Baltimore. In 1642 some Puritans, expelled from Virginia for non-conformity, settled where now stands Annapolis, founded a town there and called it Providence. In 1691 it became the capital of the State and the name was changed to Annapolis.”

“You have gone farther back in its history than you ever did in telling us about it before, papa,” remarked Lulu.

“Ah? how far back did I go before?” he asked pleasantly.

“To the time when they heard of the resistance to the passing of the Stamp Act by the people of Massachusetts, sir,” she replied. “Don’t you remember that when we were sailing from Newport to Annapolis, to bring Max here to enter the Academy, we young folks all gathered round you, just as we have to-night, and asked for revolutionary happenings in Maryland?”

“Ah, yes, I do remember it now, though it was nearly a year ago,” he returned, looking with a humorous smile down into her eyes.

“Why, just think,” exclaimed Max, “the town was then more than a hundred years old. What a venerable old place it is now!”

“Ah, no wonder you grow manly so fast, young sir, living in such a grand old place,” remarked a strange voice apparently coming from the rear of the little party seated pretty close together on the deck.

Naturally every head turned in the direction of the sound, but the speaker was not to be seen.

“Who and where are you, sir?” queried the captain. “Step forward and take a seat with the rest of us.”

“Thank you, sir; but I do not want to intrude. You must excuse me for coming aboard, but I wanted a sail and thought my weight wouldn’t retard the boat. I’ll pay for my passage if you say so.”

The speaker continued invisible, though every word was distinctly heard.

“Then do so by giving us a sight of your face,” returned Captain Raymond.

“It is not covered, sir, and you are all welcome to look your fill,” was the reply.

“Where is de mans, papa?” asked little Ned, gazing wonderingly about.

“Sitting in Cousin Ronald’s chair, I think,” replied his father, smoothing the curls of the little prattler, who was seated upon his knee.

“No, papa, dat Tousin Ronald.”

“Well, then, perhaps it was Brother Max.”

“No, papa, Bruver Maxie not talk dat way. Does oo, Maxie?”

“I think not, Neddie boy,” returned Max, smiling on the baby boy and giving his round rosy cheek an affectionate pat.

“No, no, little chap, I’m not Brother Max,” said the voice, sounding somewhat farther away than before, “or any such callow chicken, but a full-grown man.”

“Ah, ha, I know now that it is Cousin Ronald,” laughed Lulu, “for Max would never call himself a callow chicken.”

“I shouldn’t think Cousin Ronald would call him so either,” said Grace in a hurt tone; “chickens are cowardly and I’m sure Max is not.”

“Better not be too sure, but wait till you see him tried, miss,” said a squeaky little voice, coming seemingly from another part of the vessel.

“Now that’s you, Max, I know, because it is the very same voice we heard at Minersville on the evening of the glorious Fourth,” remarked Lulu with a merry laugh.

Max neither acknowledged nor denied that she was right. Looking up and catching sight of the Stars and Stripes floating from the masthead, “O Lu,” he asked, “do you know who invented our flag—‘old glory,’ as we love to call her?”

“Why, no; who did?”

“A little woman named Betty Ross, a Philadelphia Quakeress. She had a great deal of taste, was particularly fond of red, white, and blue, and adorned many of the apartments we read of in colonial history; the halls of Congress, the governor’s reception-room in Philadelphia, among others. She was acquainted with a number of the great men of the time—Morris, Franklin, Rittenhouse, Adams, and best and greatest of all—our Washington. And she had a brother-in-law, Colonel Ross, who was a gallant American officer in the Revolutionary War.

“On the 14th of June, 1777, Congress was considering about a design for a national flag, and it was at once proposed that Betsy Ross should be requested to design one. The committee asked Colonel Ross, Dr. Franklin, and Robert Morris to call upon her. They went and General Washington with them. Mrs. Ross consented, drew the design, and made the first American flag with her own hands. General Washington had showed her a rough design which she said was wrong—the stars having six corners when the right number was but five. She said she didn’t know whether she could make the flag, but would try; which, as I have just said, she did, and succeeded so well that Congress was satisfied with it; and it was the first star-spangled banner that ever floated on the breeze.”

“There was an eagle on that flag, Max, was there not?” asked the captain as the lad paused in his story.

“Yes, sir; a spread eagle with the thirteen stars in a circle of rays of glory. It is said that many eminent men visited Mrs. Ross’ shop while she was at work on the flag and were deeply interested in it.”

“Well,” remarked Lulu thoughtfully, “if that flag was flung to the breeze in June of 1777, it is a mistake for people to say that the rough flag made and floated at Fort Schuyler the next fall was the first.”

“Quite true,” said her father, “though probably they—the makers of the Fort Schuyler flag—had not heard of the other and believed theirs to be the first. It is stated that Washington had displayed at Cambridge, Massachusetts, on January 2d, 1776, what might be called the original of our present banner. It had thirteen stripes of red and white with a St. Andrew cross instead of the stars.”

“Was there not another called the rattlesnake flag?” asked Rosie.

“Yes, in two forms: in one the figure was left complete, and under it were the words, ‘Don’t tread on me.’ In the other the snake was in thirteen pieces—in some cases with thirteen rattles—and the legend was ‘Join or die.’”

The captain paused a moment, then went on: “I was reading lately an account taken from an English paper of what was probably the first floating of the American flag in British waters. It was on February 3d, 1783, that the ship Bedford, a Massachusetts vessel commanded by Captain Moore, passed Gravesend, and on the 6th she was reported at the custom-house. The Lords of Council and the Commissioners of the Customs held a consultation, because of the many acts of Parliament still in force against the ‘rebels’ of America—as our British cousins were wont to style us—before allowing her regular entry. She was American built, manned wholly by American seamen, and belonged to Nantucket, Massachusetts.

“The article goes on to say she carried the ‘rebel’ colors and was the first to display the ‘rebellious stripes of America in any British port.’

“But before that the Stars and Stripes had appeared on British soil. A noted philanthropist and sturdy patriot of Philadelphia, named Elkannah Watson, had at the close of the Revolutionary War received four hundred guineas as a wager, and on the same day was dining with the painter Copley, whom he engaged to paint his portrait for the sum of money just obtained from the wager. The portrait was all finished but the background, which they had agreed should represent a ship bearing to America the news of the acknowledgment by the British government of our independence—the Stars and Stripes floating from her gaff and gilded by the rays of the rising sun was still wanting, the painter considering it imprudent to put it there at that time, as his gallery was the resort of royalty and the nobility. Watson speaks of ‘the glorious 5th of December, 1782,’ on which he and Copley listened to the speech of the king in which he formally received and recognized the United States of America as one of the nations of the earth. After that Watson went home with the artist to dinner; but before sitting down to the table Copley finished his picture, inviting his company to be present in his studio while ‘with a bold hand, master touch, and American heart’ he attached to the ship the Stars and Stripes.”

“That was displaying what the British had called the rebel colors very promptly upon the king’s acknowledgment, and very near his palace,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore with a smile of grim satisfaction.

“Yes; doubtless a bitter pill for his majesty to swallow,” laughed Rosie.

“Well, he needn’t have had it to swallow if he hadn’t been so tyrannical and obstinate,” remarked Walter. “I remember that Bancroft says, ‘The American struggle was avowedly a war in defence of the common rights of mankind.’”

“That is very true, Walter,” returned his grandfather. “They—the leading men of the time—were a noble band of patriots and lovers of their kind. We have a right to be proud of them.”

“And I am proud of them, sir,” returned the lad, his cheeks glowing and his eyes sparkling.

“That’s right, my little man; everybody should love his country and feel proud of all its people who resist tyranny and stand up boldly for the principle that ‘all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,’” said a strange voice which seemed to come from their rear.

Every one turned to see the speaker; then finding he was not visible, laughed pleasantly.

“I am glad to learn that you are so well acquainted with our glorious Declaration of Independence, Cousin Ronald, and seem to appreciate it so highly,” remarked Grandma Elsie, with a smiling look into the pleasant face of her kinsman.

“Ah, indeed, cousin! are you entirely sure that I am deserving of that compliment?” queried Mr. Lilburn gravely.

“Quite sure,” she returned. “I could hardly have quoted it so correctly myself.”

“But was that my voice, cousin?” he asked.

“One of your voices, I have no doubt,” she replied laughingly.

“Mr. Lilburn,” said Max, “I have been telling some of my comrades of your ventriloquial powers and they are extremely desirous to witness their exercise. Will you not kindly gratify them while here?”

“Why, laddie, I am hardly more capable in that line than yourself,” laughed the old gentleman.

“But you, sir, are not under authority as I am and so liable to be called to account for your doings.”

“Eh! perhaps not. Well, well, we will be on the lookout for opportunities, you and I. I own I am not averse to gratifying the young folks when I can do so without displeasing their elders.”