ith indomitable
courage. A sword glittered at his side, and a banner waved over him, but
his eye was fixed on the distant shore, and he was evidently unconscious
of the roaring billows, the blocks of ice, the discouragement of his
men, or the danger and death that might await him. Napoleon crossing
the Alps was not half so sublime, and with one voice the audience cried,
"Washington crossing the Delaware!" while the band burst forth with,
"See, the conquering hero comes!" all out of tune, but bound to play it
or die in the attempt.

It would have been very successful if, all of a sudden, one of the
rowers had not "caught a crab" with disastrous consequences. The oars
were not moving, but a veteran, who looked very much like Joe, dropped
the one he held, and in trying to turn and pummel the black-eyed warrior
behind him, he tumbled off his seat, upsetting two other men, and
pulling the painted boat upon them as they lay kicking in the cambric
deep. Shouts of laughter greeted this mishap, but George Washington
never stirred. Grasping the banner, he stood firm when all else went
down in the general wreck, and the icy waves engulfed his gallant crew,
leaving him erect amid a chaos of wildly tossing boots, entangled oars,
and red-faced victims. Such god-like dignity could not fail to impress
the frivolous crowd of laughers, and the curtain fell amid a round of
applause for him alone.

"Quite exciting, wasn't it? Didn't know Gus had so much presence of
mind," said Mr. Burton, well pleased with his boy.

"If we did not know that Washington died in his bed, December 14, 1799,
I should fear that we'd seen the last of him in that shipwreck," laughed
an old gentleman, proud of his memory for dates.

Much confusion reigned behind the scenes; Ralph was heard scolding, and
Joe set every one off again by explaining, audibly, that Grif tickled
him, and he couldn't stand it. A pretty, old-fashioned picture of the
"Daughters of Liberty" followed, for the girls were determined to do
honor to the brave and patient women who so nobly bore their part in the
struggle, yet are usually forgotten when those days are celebrated. The
damsels were charming in the big caps, flowered gowns, and high-heeled
shoes of their great-grandmothers, as they sat about a spider-legged
table talking over the tax, and pledging themselves to drink no more
tea till it was taken off. Molly was on her feet proposing, "Liberty
forever, and down with all tyrants," t