all these things were done in the first fury
of resentment. Afterwards, the people grew more calm, and were more
influenced by the counsel of those wise and good men who conducted them
safely and gloriously through the Revolution."

Little Alice, with tears in her blue eyes, said that she hoped the
neighbors had not let Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson and his family be
homeless in the street, but had taken them into their houses, and been
kind to them. Cousin Clara, recollecting the perilous situation of our
beloved chair, inquired what had become of it.

"Nothing was heard of our chair for sometime afterwards," answered
Grandfather. "One day in September, the same Andrew Oliver, of whom I
before told you, was summoned to appear at high noon, under Liberty Tree.
This was the strangest summons that had ever been heard of; for it was
issued in the name of the whole people, who thus took upon themselves the
authority of a sovereign power. Mr. Oliver dared not disobey. Accordingly,
at the appointed hour, he went, much against his will, to Liberty Tree."

Here Charley interposed a remark that poor Mr. Oliver found but little
liberty under Liberty Tree. Grandfather assented.

"It was a stormy day," continued he. "The equinoctial gale blew violently,
and scattered the yellow leaves of Liberty Tree all along the street. Mr.
Oliver's wig was dripping with water-drops, and he probably looked
haggard, disconsolate, and humbled to the earth. Beneath the tree, in
Grandfather's chair,--our own venerable chair,--sat Mr. Richard Dana, a
justice of the peace. He administered an oath to Mr. Oliver, that he would
never have any thing to do with distributing the stamps. A vast concourse
of people heard the oath, and shouted when it was taken."

"There is something grand in this," said Laurence. "I like it, because the
people seem to have acted with thoughtfulness and dignity; and this proud
gentleman, one of his Majesty's high officers, was made to feel that King
George could not protect him in doing wrong."

"But it was a sad day for poor Mr. Oliver," observed Grandfather. "From
his youth upward, it had probably been the great principle of his life, to
be faithful and obedient to the king. And now, in his old age, it must
have puzzled and distracted him, to find the sovereign people setting up a
claim to his faith and obedience."

Grandfather closed the evening's conversation by saying that the
discontent of America was so great, th