A few days longer the "Dolphin" kept on her eastward course, then was headed for the shore of Massachusetts, bound for Boston, where Mr. Keith must leave her, his furlough having now nearly expired. He and his cousins would be sorry to part; but there was no help for it, as Uncle Sam's orders must be obeyed.

The young folks of the party had particularly enjoyed the little trip out to sea, but expected to find a sail along the coast of the New England States quite as much to their taste, particularly as it would give them an opportunity to look upon some of the scenes of incidents in the two wars with England.

They had come in sight of the coast and were all gathered upon the deck.

"That is Scituate, is it not, Captain?" asked Grandma Elsie, indicating a town that had just come into view.

"Yes," he replied, "and I presume you remember the story of the last war with England, connected with it?"

"I do," she answered; "but I presume it would be new to some at least of these young people."

Then entreaties for the story poured in upon her and the Captain from both boys and girls.

"It is but a short one; and I would prefer to have the Captain tell it," Mrs. Travilla replied.

"Oh, Papa, please do!" exclaimed Lulu; and he complied.

"It was, as I have said, during the last war with England that the occurrence I am about to tell of took place. At that time there was a light-house in the harbour kept by a man named Reuben Bates, who had a family of grown-up sons and daughters.

"He and his sons were members of a militia company of the town, and one day during the war they were all absent from home on that business, leaving the light-house in charge of the daughters, Abigail and Rebecca.

"The girls, who were no doubt keeping a vigilant watch for the approach of the enemy, saw a British ship entering the harbour, and conjectured that it was the design of those on board of her to destroy the fishing-boats in the harbour and perhaps burn the town, or at least rob its inhabitants.

"They must have been brave girls, for at once they began to consider what they could do to drive away the would-be invaders.

"I presume Abigail exclaimed, 'Oh, if we could only make them think there were troops ready to defend the town, and so frighten them away!' And very likely Rebecca replied, 'Perhaps we can. If you can play the fife, I'll beat the drum; and if we are hidden from sight they may think there are troops ready to receive them if they come ashore, and so be afraid to land.'

"So they went around behind some sand-hills and played 'Yankee Doodle' in a lively way that had exactly the desired effect.

"The British ship had sent out boats filled with armed men who were pulling for the shore; but on hearing the music of the drum and fife, they evidently concluded that there might be a large force of American soldiers ready to receive them, and thinking 'discretion the better part of valour,' turned about and pulled back to their ship again without attempting to land."

"Oh, wasn't that good?" exclaimed Lulu; "I think the fathers and brothers of those girls must have been proud of them."

"Yes, I dare say they were," said Max.

"I wonder what became of them—those girls—afterward?" said Rosie. "Of course they must have been dead and gone long before this."

"No," replied the Captain, "Abigail died only recently at the advanced age of eighty-nine."

"Papa, won't you stay awhile in Boston and take us to see some of the places connected with Revolutionary times,—Bunker Hill and its monument, and maybe some others?" asked Max.

"I shall be pleased to do so, my son, if nothing happens to prevent," was the pleasant-toned reply. "It is my strong desire to have my children well-informed in regard to the history of their own country."

"And ardent patriots too, Papa, ready to defend her to the utmost of their ability should she be attacked by any other power?" queried Max, looking smilingly up into his father's face.

"Yes, my son; particularly the boys," replied the Captain, smiling in his turn at the lad's enthusiasm.

"Well, there's one of your girls that I am sure would find a way to help, Papa,—nursing the wounded soldiers perhaps, or carrying despatches or something," said Lulu; "perhaps giving information of an intended attack by the enemy, as Lydia Darrah did."

"I have no doubt you would do all you could, daughter, and might perhaps be of more assistance than many a man," her father answered kindly.

"I'm afraid I shouldn't be brave enough to do such things as that," remarked Grace, with a look that seemed to say she felt herself quite inferior to her braver sister; "but I could pray for my country, and I know that God hears and answers prayer,—so that would be helping, wouldn't it, Papa?"

"Yes, my dear child; the Bible tells us a great deal about the power of prayer; 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me,' is one of its promises."

"Yes," said Grandma Elsie, "a cry to God, the Ruler of the universe, for help, may accomplish more than any effort on the part of man to do for himself."

"But people must help themselves too, Mamma?" Walter said, half in assertion, half inquiringly.

"Yes, my son, if they can; 'Faith without works is dead,' the Apostle says. The right way is to do all we can to help ourselves, at the same time asking God's blessing upon our efforts."

"As General Washington did," remarked Mr. Keith. "He was a man of both works and prayer,—a blessing to his country, and to the world; in my estimation the greatest mere man that ever lived. 'First in peace, first in war, first in the hearts of his countrymen.'"

"Yes," assented Grandma Elsie, "I like the toast given by some one,—I have forgotten who it was,—'Washington: Providence left him childless that his country might call him father.' He seems to me to have been as nearly perfect as one of the sinful race of man could be!"

"Yes," responded Captain Raymond; "thoroughly unselfish, just, generous, modest, self-denying and self-sacrificing, charitable to the poor, forgiving, fearless and heroic; a God-fearing man who sought nothing for himself, but was ready to do or die for his country; true to her, to his friends, to his God; a sincere and earnest Christian,—where can a more noble character be found?"

"I think," said Mrs. Travilla, "he was an instrument raised up and prepared of God for the work that he did in securing to our beloved country the liberties she now enjoys."

"I very much like what Lord Brougham says of him," remarked Violet.

"Oh, can you repeat it, Mamma Vi?" queried Lulu, eagerly.

"Yes, I think I can," returned Violet, who was blessed with an excellent memory.

"'It will be the duty of the historian and sage in all ages to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington!'"

"I like that," said Rosie, her eyes sparkling with pleasure and enthusiasm, "and it's none the worse for having come from an Englishman."

"Not a bit," assented Keith.

"Mamma, was Washington commander at the battle of Bunker Hill?" asked Walter. "I ought to know; but I can't remember just now."

"No, my son," she answered, "it was fought before he reached Boston,—in fact, the very day, June 17, that Congress agreed to his commission as commander-in-chief of all the Continental forces raised, or to be raised; and on the 21st he set out on horseback from Philadelphia for Boston to take command of the American army encamped there,—or rather around it, the British being in possession of the town itself. News did not fly then as it does in these days, by any means; and it was not till he arrived in New York, on the 25th, that the tidings reached him.

"The next day he was in the saddle again, pushing on toward the scene of conflict. He reached Cambridge on the 2d of July, and the next day took command of the army, drawing his sword under an ancient elm."

"Why, just think!" exclaimed Walter, "it took him nearly two weeks to travel from Philadelphia to Boston, while now we could do it in less than two days. No wonder it took so long to fight the British and drive them out of our country!"

"I think we'd do it in less than half that time now," said Max. "We could move so much faster, besides raising a great deal bigger army; to say nothing of the navy, that I believe has done better in every one of our wars than the land forces. I remember to have read that the army Washington took command of then consisted of only seventeen thousand men, only fourteen thousand five hundred of them fit for duty; that they were without needed supplies of tents or clothing or as much as nine cartridges to a man."

"Yes; it's a wonder Washington wasn't completely discouraged," remarked Evelyn. "I think he surely would have been if he had not put his trust in God and the righteousness of our country's cause."

"No doubt it was that which strengthened him for the long and arduous struggle," said Mrs. Travilla. "Washington was, as I said a moment since, a man of prayer; he looked to God for help in the hour of his country's sorest need, and surely his prayers were heard and answered."

"Yes, Mamma," said Rosie; "I remember reading that he would go into the woods to pray privately for his bleeding country and his suffering soldiers; that some one happened to see him alone there in prayer with the tears coursing down his cheeks. Oh, it's no wonder that with such a leader and in so righteous a cause, our arms were victorious in spite of the fearful odds against us!"

"And it was God who gave us such a leader," responded her mother, "and gave him wisdom and courage for his work, and final success in carrying it on to the desired end."

"Wasn't he a member of the Continental Congress before his election as commander-in-chief of the armies?" asked Rosie.

"Yes," replied her mother. "So was Patrick Henry; and he, when asked whom he considered the greatest man in that body, replied, 'If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.'"

"How long did Washington stay there close to Boston, Papa?" asked Gracie.

"He carried on the siege for eight months, then on the 17th of March, 1776, succeeded in driving the British away."

"Then did he take possession of the town and stay there awhile?"

"He stayed until April, then went to New York, reaching there on the 13th. Soon after he went to Philadelphia to confer with Congress, then back to New York.

"While he was there anxiously awaiting an attack from the British, the Declaration of Independence, just passed by Congress, was sent him. The troops were quickly paraded, and the Declaration read at the head of the army.

"In the orders of the day Washington said to the troops, 'The General hopes that this important event will serve as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and courage, as knowing that the peace and safety of his country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms.'

"But I cannot tell you now the whole story of Washington's services to his country in the war for independence, to say nothing of all that he did for her afterward."

"I think we will read about it after we go home to Woodburn," the Captain said.

"Frederick the Great was a great admirer of Washington," remarked Mr. Keith. "He is said to have pronounced Washington's masterly movements on the Delaware the most brilliant achievements recorded in military annals. And Lossing tells us of a portrait of himself which Frederick sent to Washington accompanied by the very gratifying words, 'From the oldest general in Europe to the greatest general in the world.' As for myself, I must say that I think Washington's success, in spite of all the difficulties and discouragements he had to encounter, was something most wonderful, and was given him in answer to prayer, and because he put his trust in God and looked to Him for wisdom and for help."

"He was certainly one of the most unselfish of men," remarked Violet. "What other man would have refused with scorn and indignation, as he did, the suggestion that his army would like to make him a king?"

"Oh, did they want to make him king, and tell him so?" asked Gracie.

"Yes; didn't you know that?" returned Lulu.

"Papa, won't you tell about it?" Grace asked, turning to her father.

"I will, daughter," he answered in a kindly, affectionate tone, and taking in his the hand she had laid upon his knee.

"The battle of Yorktown, which practically secured the independence of our country, was fought in October, 1781, but the treaty of peace was not signed till Jan. 20, 1783; so our armies were not disbanded, and officers and soldiers were sorely tried by their pay being delayed, and feared, not without reason, that they might be disbanded without Congress making proper provision for meeting their just claims.

"Some of the officers began to doubt the efficiency of the Government, and of all republican institutions, and talked among themselves as to whether it might not be better to establish a monarchy instead; and at length one of them was deputed to confer with Washington on the subject.

"He did so,—it seems in writing,—and even ventured to suggest for him the title of king.

"But, as you have just heard, Washington rebuked the writer severely, saying he was at a loss to conceive what part of his conduct could have given encouragement to an address that seemed to him big with the greatest mischiefs that could befall his country; that if he was not deceived in the knowledge of himself, they could not have found a person to whom their schemes were more disagreeable.

"He also conjured the writer, if he had any regard for his country, concern for himself or posterity, or respect for him, to banish these thoughts from his mind, and never communicate a sentiment of such a nature from himself or any one else."

"Did they give it up then, Papa?" Gracie asked.

"Nothing more was ever said about making Washington king," he answered; "but the next December they sent to Congress a memorial on the subject of their pay. A resolution was adopted by that body, but such as did not satisfy the complainants. Then a meeting of officers was arranged for; and anonymous addresses, commonly known as the Newburg addresses, were sent out to rouse the army to resentment.

"Washington insisted on attending the meeting, and delivered an impressive address.

"He had written down what he wished to say, and after reading the first paragraph paused to put on his spectacles, saying most touchingly, as he did so, that he had grown gray in the service of his country, and now found himself growing blind.

"He then went on to read a most noble paper which he had prepared for the occasion. In it he acknowledged the just claims of the army against the Government, and assured them that they would not be disregarded; then he entreated them 'to express their utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord and deluge our rising empire in blood.'

"Then, having finished his address, he retired from the meeting; but resolutions were at once offered by General Knox, seconded by General Putnam and adopted by the meeting, agreeing with all he had said and reciprocating his expressions of esteem and affection. They were relieved of their doubts and fears and restored to their wonted love for their country."

"Oh, that was nice, Papa!" exclaimed Gracie, her cheeks flushing and her eyes shining. "How good and great our Washington was! It seems to me we would never have got free from Great Britain if we hadn't had him to help."

"Yes: it does seem very doubtful," her father replied. "As Grandma Elsie has said, God seems to have raised up and prepared him for that very work."

"And how soon after that was the war really over, Papa?"

"The treaty of peace was signed in Paris on the 20th of January, 1783, as I remarked a moment since; but as it took a long while in those days for people and news to cross the ocean, it was not till the 17th of the following April that Washington received the proclamation of Congress for the cessation of hostilities. Then on the 19th—which, as you may remember, was the eighth anniversary of the battle of Lexington, the opening conflict of the war—the cessation was proclaimed at the head of every regiment."

"What joyful news it must have been to the poor, weary soldiers!" said Violet. "I trust their hearts were full of gratitude to God, who had prospered the right in spite of the fearful odds against those who were battling for it."

"Yes," returned her husband; "and no heart could have been more thankful than that of the commander-in-chief, who said in the general orders, 'The chaplains of the several brigades will render thanks to Almighty God for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath of man to His own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations.'"

"What a good, good Christian man Washington was, Papa!" exclaimed Gracie.

"And yet he had enemies; and there are still some among his own countrymen who are far from appreciating him,—can even speak evil of him. But even our Lord Jesus Christ had enemies and detractors—bitter and implacable foes—among his own countrymen; and 'the servant is not greater than his Lord,'" was the Captain's reply.

"Yes, Papa, I remember that Washington had enemies,—Gates for one, and that infamous Conway for another," said Max. "How glad I was to read of the Continental Congress accepting the resignation he offered in a fit of anger, so that he had to leave the army for good, though he didn't want to!"

"I think it was for good, Max," remarked Mr. Keith, with a slightly amused smile,—"for the good of the country, though perhaps not for his own. Conway was a man America was well rid of; and the same may be as truly said of Charles Lee. What would have become of our liberties had that infamous cabal succeeded in getting the command taken from Washington and given to any one of themselves!"