g in the cedar thickets of the swamp.

Through the next two hours they toiled on, Jeremy on foot, and often
ready to lie down with the healthy sleep that would not leave its hold
on his weary brain.

It was day-dawn when the fagots had been duly delivered at the
appointed place and Jeremy reached home.

He had been cautiously bidden to see that the cart was not left
outside with its tell-tale rigging. He obeyed the injunction, shut the
oxen in, gave them double allowance of hay, and was startled by Aunt
Hannah's cheery call of: "Jerry, my boy, come to breakfast."

"Breakfast ready?" said Jeremy.

"Why, yes. I was up early this morning, and thought of you." And that
was the only allusion Aunt Hannah made to his night's work. He longed
to tell her and chat about it all at the table; but, remembering his
promise in the swamp, he said not a word.

Six nights out of seven Jeremy and his oxen worked all night and slept
nearly all day.

The brook in Cedar Swamp was robbed of its willows, and many another
bit of land and watercourse suffered in a like manner.

Then came the order to make the fagots into fascines. Two thousand
soldiers were got to work to effect this. Jeremy Jagger began to
understand what was going on behind the lines at Roxbury. He was the
happiest lad in existence during the ensuing days. He forgot to eat,
even, when the fascines were in making. Perceiving the manner in which
they were formed he volunteered to help, and soon found he could drive
the cross supports into the ground, lay the saplings upon them, and
even aid in twisting the green withes about them, as well as any
soldier of them all.

Bales of "screwed" hay began to appear in great numbers within the
lines, and empty barrels by the hundreds sprang up from somewhere.

And all this time, guess as every man might and did--the coming event
was known only to the commander-in-chief and to the six generals
forming the council of war.

Monday night, before sundown, Jeremy Jagger received an order. It
was:

March 4th.

JEREMY JAGGER:

With oxen and cart (hay-rigging on), be at the Roxbury lines by
moon-rise to-night. Take a pocketful of gingerbread along.

WOOSTER.

With manly pride the boy set forth. He longed to put the note in his
aunt's hand ere he went; but she (long ago it seemed, though only a
few days had passed) seemed to take no note of his frequent absences.
He had scarcely gone a rod ere the cannon-balls began t