Part 17 (1/2)

”Oh, but honey!” Mammy's voice sank to a whisper, and she looked around as if in fear of being overheard, ”dat Mars' Lion, he bound to fight de Britishers toof and nail, but his pappy, Mars' Perc'val, he's for totin'

him right back to Inglan, but Mars' Lion, he won't be toted. He say dis yere's his own country whar he wor born'd and here he sh.e.l.l stay.

”Mistis Gab'rell, she cry and try to make him promise to keep quiet, and dat Mis' Ros'mand she act like she own him soul and body. Mars'

Perc'val, he say he's sorry he let him come home, but lordy ma.s.sy! dat chile would 'a' comed lett'n' or no lett'n'.

”But you see, de fac' is, dat boy chuck full o' fight. I tell ole Uncle Gambo dar must be somesin in dis yere soil dat make de chillern love it and stan' up fo' it and fight fo' it.”

”I'd fight for it, too, if I was a young man,” said Maid Sally.

”_Would_ you, now!” exclaimed Mammy. ”Well, I reckon de day is near when all who wants to fight will have de chance. Now I must go travellin'

home. I'm goin' to make a plum jam betty fo' my young mars' supper, and no knowin' how long his ole Mammy can cook fo' him, he so done set on fightin'.”

As Mammy rolled away, Sally said to herself:

”I wonder why she tells me these things? I never ask her questions.”

Her Fairy answered: ”It is because those people are simple and confiding in one way, and in another way are sharper than you think. All the world likes sympathy, which is a kindly feeling toward others, and a willingness to listen to what is in their hearts. And Mammy sees that you pay attention to what she says, and it pleases her.”

”I must be careful,” said Maid Sally.

”You have need to be,” warned her Fairy.

The days grew more full of excitement. There were whisperings, hot speeches, and murmurings on every side.

But in the midst of the boil and trouble Sir Percival Grandison, and a few others, determined to give a ball in the Hall of Burgesses in hopes to break in upon the stormy feelings that were abroad, and perhaps bring about a more peaceful state of things.

The seat of government had been in Williamsburg until that fall of 1774. Then it was removed to Philadelphia.

There had been a splendid ball given in May, in honor of the wife and daughter of the governor, Lord Dunmore. And although the people neither liked nor respected the haughty, wilful governor, it yet was thought a proper thing to welcome with a gay gathering the ladies who had come to live at the ”Governor's Palace,” as his home was called.

Now the Hall of Burgesses was to see another brilliant affair, when people of rank and fas.h.i.+on would come together for a merry night, and Sir Percival secretly trusted that it might tone down the war spirit in his young son.

Maid Sally cast about in her mind, wondering if she could possibly get a peep at the splendid scene, for ah, what delight it would be to look upon it, if only for a moment!

”It will be a brave sight,” said her Fairy, ”but it may stir feelings in your soul it were better should be at rest.”

”No matter for that,” said beauty-loving Sally, ”I must see it if I can.”

Yet how could she bring it about? The church beadle, the dread man who went about, and, staff in hand, kept all younglings quiet in the meeting-house, the town-crier, who went up and down the roads and with a great bell in hand found a lost child or told unusual news, the constable and his two a.s.sistants, all these would be about the doors of the building so that the many coaches could drive up without confusion, and none but invited guests would dare to come too near.

Children and upper cla.s.s servants might gaze on at a distance, but no hangers-on would be permitted on that side of the road.

Up came Sally's will. Her strong, bright will.

”I mean to find some way to see it,” she said, ”but not by doing anything of which to be ashamed.”