nd that
I should be very glad to hear something more of what he did in the
Revolution."

"And so would I, grandma; ever so much," added Ned, who was close at
his sister's side.

"Then sit down, one on each side of me, and I will tell you some
things that I have read about General Francis Marion, one of the
boldest, most energetic, and faithful patriots of the Revolution. He
was born in South Carolina in 1732, and it is said was so small a baby
that he might have been easily put into a quart pot."

"He must have had to grow a good deal before he could be a soldier,
grandma," laughed Ned.

"Yes, but he had forty-three years to do it in," said Elsie.

"That many years before the Revolutionary War began," said her
grandma, "but he was only twenty-seven when he became a soldier by
joining an expedition against the Cherokees and other hostile Indian
tribes on the western frontier of his State. When the Revolution began
he was made a captain in the second South Carolina regiment. He fought
in the battle at Fort Sullivan, on Sullivan's Island, in the contest
at Savannah, and many another. He organized a brigade and became
brigadier of the militia of South Carolina. After the battle of Eutaw
he became senator in the Legislature, but soon went back into the army
and remained there till the close of the war."

"Grandma, didn't he and his soldiers camp in the swamps a good deal of
the time?" asked Elsie.

"Yes; and often had but little to eat--sometimes sweet potatoes only,
and but a scant supply of them. A story is told of a young British
officer from Georgetown coming to treat with him respecting prisoners,
when Marion was camping on Snow's Island--at the confluence of the
Pedee River and Lynch's Creek. The Briton was led blindfolded to
Marion's camp. There for the first time he saw that general--a small
man--with groups of his men about him, lounging under the magnificent
trees draped with moss. When they had concluded their business Marion
invited the Englishman to dine with him. The invitation was accepted,
and great was the astonishment of the guest when the dinner was
served; only some roasted potatoes on a piece of bark. 'Surely,
general,' he said, 'this cannot be your ordinary fare?' 'Indeed it
is,' replied Marion, 'and we are fortunate on this occasion,
entertaining company, to have more than our usual allowance.'

"It is said that the young officer gave up his commission on his
return, saying that such a peopl