not well taught at home, and says for you not to play with them,"
so that Anne had gone happily back to her playhouse, and told "Martha"
that there was no one so good as Mistress and Captain Stoddard, "except my
dear father," the little girl had added loyally.

"Now, Martha, you must be a good and quiet child," she advised, "for after
this you will live in the house with me. You can come out here to play
with me, but every night you are to sleep in my bed; and it may be,
Mistress Stoddard will let you rest in the kitchen now and then, and you
may go with me over the pasture hill to see Brownie."

The big British ships lay quietly at anchor for several days. The men came
ashore in boat-loads, washed their clothes at the spring, bought such
provisions as the little settlement could offer, and wandered about the
shore. The citizens treated them not uncivilly, for since the men of
Province Town were unable to make any resistance to those they felt to be
their country's foes, they knew it to be best to be silent and accept the
authority they had not the strength to defy. So the fishing-boats swung at
anchor in the harbor, and the men lingered about the landing, or fished
for plaice fish and sole from their dories near shore.

"We'll be poor indeed when frost comes," complained Mrs. Stoddard; "my
molasses keg is near empty now, and the meal barrel not half full. If
those Britishers do not soon leave the harbor so that the men can get back
to the fishing, this place will know hunger, for our larder is no poorer
than our neighbors'."

"Yes," agreed Captain Enos, "the whole coast is feeling the king's
displeasure because we will not pay him taxes to fill his pockets, and
make slaves of us. I wish we had some news of our Boston friends. The
Freemans are well to do, but with Boston beset on all sides with British
soldiers they may be hard pressed."

"'Twill come to worse yet, be sure," predicted Mrs. Stoddard gloomily.

It was but a few days after this when with joyful songs the British
sailors made ready to sail, and on a bright July morning the vessels,
taking advantage of a fair wind, bent their sails and skimmed away up the
coast.

"They are bound for Boston," declared Captain Enos, "and 'Tis soon enough
they'll be back again. The Boston folk will not let them come to anchor,
I'll be bound."

Hardly had the ships got under headway before the fishermen were rowing
out to their sailboats, and soon the little fleet was un