cious.

Father made our shoes, and rough ones they were too, and which we only
wore in the coldest part of the winter. The long winter evenings were so
beautiful to us! Father taught us to read and spell, and chalked out
sums on the wall for us; then we would draw profiles on the wall, for
the great blaze of the wood-fire cast a bright light, and, consequently,
the shadow was well marked. A huge chimney-place we had, with a broad
hearth, and all about this would we sit, roasting apples and popping
corn by the heat of the fire.

So we lived; in the summer, playing "hi-spy" around the corners of the
barn, and, in the winter, living snugly in the chimney-corner, telling
stories.

When the revolutionary war broke out,--you've heard of that, of course;
but then I'm afraid you'll never know how much we endured then; our
feeling against the injustice of Mother England was very great. You do
not know how we had loved her, nor how we children used to listen to
stories of that beautiful country beyond the sea. Our father and mother
spoke of it as "Home," and we all hoped that some time, when we were men
and women, we might go "Home." Then, when she began to tax us for more
money than we were able to pay, in order to build grand palaces, it
seemed hard to us; and, even after we had remonstrated again and again,
she took no notice of our petitions. She laid a heavy tax on some little
comforts we had, such as _sugar_ and molasses; and then, when we refused
to buy them rather than pay the tax, she imposed a heavy tax on tea,
and sent a great deal of it here to force us to buy it. We wouldn't have
the tea, however, and you must have heard how a party of men, disguised
as Indians, threw it all into Boston harbor.

All these things seemed the more cruel because they came from "Home."
And, finally, worn out with the injustice constantly experienced at
their hands, we prepared to resist them by war.

The declaration of independence, which you celebrate every fourth of
July, was received with mingled emotions of joy and sorrow. It was
severing an old tie which had once been sweet; but yet it promised us,
through the doubtful conflict, freedom and independence.

How enthusiastic we children were! Father made us rude wooden guns; and
drilled us every morning, for no one knew how long the war would last;
but we were determined to conquer, even though our fathers died in the
war, and our children succeeded to it. I remember when the recr