terplass,
So-pop!-my-lil-pick'ninny-goes!"

"Lorr, Lorr! I can hear dat poor lil monkey now, done choke a-larfin',
when his ole Mammy toss him up inten her lap."

But Mammy's soliloquy was rudely broken in upon. Hotspur came tearing
over the lawn, Bill in hot pursuit.

"Horrors unner hemlocks!" screamed Mammy, as the wild horse bolted by at
a perfectly safe distance, then of his own accord pranced back to the
stable yard.

Up got Mammy and trundled away. And back toward Slipside Row went Sally,
laughing at Mammy's queer fright, but feeling thankful enough that she
was only frightened, not hurt.

CHAPTER XIII.

TWO YEARS

With the coming of another summer there were reasons why Sir Percival
Grandison did not think it best to have his son Lionel come home.

Troublous times were indeed brewing, and he did not want his
enthusiastic son to hear the reports that were going from mouth to mouth
and from place to place.

And when the next December came he was glad the lad was away, for in
Boston, men painted and plumed like Indians had gone at night aboard
some laden vessels lying in the harbor, and had thrown nearly two
hundred and fifty chests of tea into the water.

For England was bound to tax the people of the Colonies for tea, beyond
what they were willing to stand. And very patient had the Colonists
been. Eight years before this there had been a Stamp Act put upon them
by the mother country, trying to make them put a stamp on all their law
papers, newspapers, and such things.

But this had made the people of the Colonies so very angry that the law
was laid aside.

Now, strange as it may seem, there were yet some of the people who did
not quite know whether it was right to stand up and say that England was
wrong, and they would not stay on her side, or to think that they ought
to obey the king in everything simply because he was the king, and it
seemed wrong to break away from his rule.

And Sir Percival Grandison, really a fine, noble gentleman, found it
hard to make up his mind as to what was entirely right or wrong in the
important question.

Sally was now so much a student that nothing, it seemed, could stand in
the way of her books and her swift way of learning. She understood all
about the trouble with England, and there was not a more decided,
staunch little American patriot than was she.

You know a patriot is one who loves well his or her own country, and
Sally was a true, staunch