Part 5 (2/2)
Like that one who smiled at us--do you remember?”
”At Christmas?”
”That's the one!” he exclaimed. ”Lord! but she was handsome in her sledge!--and her sister, too, Jack.”
”I forget their names,” said I.
”Browse,” he said, ”--Jessica and Betsy. And they live at Pigeon-Wood near Mayfield.”
”Oho!” said I, ”you have made their acquaintance!”
He laughed and we galloped on.
Nick sang in his saddle, beating time upon his thigh with his fife:
”Flammadiddle!
Paddadiddle!
Flammadiddle dandy!
My Love's kisses Are sweet as sugar-candy!
Flammadiddle!
Paddadiddle!
Flammadiddle dandy!
She makes fun o' me Because my legs are bandy----”
He checked his gay refrain:
”Speaking of flamms,” said he, ”my brother John desires to be a drummer in the Continental Line.”
”He is only fourteen,” said I, laughing.
”I know. But he is a tall lad and stout enough. What will be your regiment, Jack?”
”I like Colonel Livingston's,” said I, ”but n.o.body yet knows what is to be the fate of the district militia and whether the Mohawk regiment, the Palatine, and the other three are to be recruited to replace the Tory deserters, or what is to be done.”
Nick flourished his flute: ”All I know,” he said, ”is that my father and brother and I mean to march.”
”I also,” said I.
”Then it's in G.o.d's hands,” he remarked cheerfully, ”and I mean to use my ears and eyes in Johnstown today.”
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