cataract of Niagara
sent its roar through his dreams. At one period, in the early part of the
war, Shirley had the chief command of all the king's forces in America."

"Did his young wife go with him to the war?" asked Clara.

"I rather imagine," replied Grandfather, "that she remained in Boston.
This lady, I suppose, had our chair all to herself, and used to sit in it,
during those brief intervals when a young French woman can be quiet enough
to sit in a chair. The people of Massachusetts were never fond of Governor
Shirley's young French wife. They had a suspicion that she betrayed the
military plans of the English to the generals of the French armies."

"And was it true?" inquired Clara.

"Probably not," said Grandfather. "But the mere suspicion did Shirley a
great deal of harm. Partly, perhaps, for this reason, but much more on
account of his inefficiency as a general, he was deprived of his command,
in 1756, and recalled to England. He never afterwards made any figure in
public life."

As Grandfather's chair had no locomotive properties, and did not even run
on castors, it cannot be supposed to have marched in person to the Old
French War. But Grandfather delayed its momentous history, while he
touched briefly upon some of the bloody battles, sieges, and onslaughts,
the tidings of which kept continually coming to the ears of the old
inhabitants of Boston. The woods of the north were populous with fighting
men. All the Indian tribes uplifted their tomahawks, and took part either
with the French or English. The rattle of musketry and roar of cannon
disturbed the ancient quiet of the forest, and actually drove the bears
and other wild beasts to the more cultivated portion of the country in the
vicinity of the sea-ports. The children felt as if they were transported
back to those forgotten times, and that the couriers from the army, with
the news of a battle lost or won, might even now be heard galloping
through the streets. Grandfather told them about the battle of Lake
George, in 1755, when the gallant Colonel Williams, a Massachusetts
officer, was slain, with many of his countrymen. But General Johnson and
General Lyman, with their army, drove back the enemy, and mortally wounded
the French leader, who was called the Baron Dieskau. A gold watch,
pilfered from the poor Baron, is still in existence, and still marks each
moment of time, without complaining of weariness, although its hands have
been in motion ever