powdered wig, and had on a loose flowing gown and purple velvet cap.
He had likewise laid aside the cares of state, and all the thoughts that
had wearied and perplexed him throughout the day.

Perhaps, in the enjoyment of his home, he had forgotten all about the
Stamp Act, and scarcely remembered that there was a king, across the
ocean, who had resolved to make tributaries of the New Englanders.
Possibly, too, he had forgotten his own ambition, and would not have
exchanged his situation, at that moment, to be governor, or even a lord.

The wax candles were now lighted, and showed a handsome room, well
provided with rich furniture. On the walls hung the pictures of
Hutchinson's ancestors, who had been eminent men in their day, and were
honorably remembered in the history of the country. Every object served to
mark the residence of a rich, aristocratic gentleman, who held himself
high above the common people, and could have nothing to fear from them. In
a corner of the room, thrown carelessly upon a chair, were the scarlet
robes of the chief justice. This high office, as well as those of
lieutenant-governor, counsellor, and judge of probate, was filled by
Hutchinson.

Who or what could disturb the domestic quiet of such a great and powerful
personage as now sat in Grandfather's chair.

The lieutenant-governor's favorite daughter sat by his side. She leaned on
the arm of our great chair, and looked up affectionately into her father's
face, rejoicing to perceive that a quiet smile was on his lips. But
suddenly a shade came across her countenance. She seemed to listen
attentively, as if to catch a distant sound.

"What is the matter, my child?" inquired Hutchinson.

"Father, do not you hear a tumult in the streets?" said she.

The lieutenant-governor listened. But his ears were duller than those of
his daughter; he could hear nothing more terrible than the sound of a
summer breeze, sighing among the tops of the elm trees.

"No, foolish child!" he replied, playfully patting her cheek. "There is no
tumult. Our Boston mobs are satisfied with what mischief they have already
done. The king's friends need not tremble."

So Hutchinson resumed his pleasant and peaceful meditations, and again
forgot that there were any troubles in the world. But his family were
alarmed, and could not help straining their ears to catch the slightest
sound. More and more distinctly they heard shouts, and then the trampling
of many feet. While