response to a call from
his Excellency.

'Twas in the latter part of August, in the year 1765, made memorable by
the Stamp Act, that I first came in touch with the deep-set feelings of
the times then beginning, and I count from that year the awakening of the
sympathy which determined my career. One sultry day I was wading in the
shallows after crabs, when the Governor's messenger came drifting in, all
impatience at the lack of wind. He ran to the house to seek Mr. Carvel,
and I after him, with all a boy's curiosity, as fast as my small legs
would carry me. My grandfather hurried out to order his barge to be got
ready at once, so that I knew something important was at hand. At first
he refused me permission to go, but afterwards relented, and about eleven
in the morning we pulled away strongly, the ten blacks bending to the
oars as if their lives were at stake.

A wind arose before we sighted Greensbury Point, and I saw a bark sailing
in, but thought nothing of this until Mr. Carvel, who had been silent and
preoccupied, called for his glass and swept her decks. She soon
shortened sail, and went so leisurely that presently our light barge drew
alongside, and I perceived Mr. Zachariah Hood, a merchant of the town,
returning from London, hanging over her rail. Mr. Hood was very pale
in spite of his sea-voyage; he flung up his cap at our boat, but Mr.
Carvel's salute in return was colder than he looked for. As we came
in view of the dock, a fine rain was setting in, and to my astonishment
I beheld such a mass of people assembled as I had never seen, and scarce
standing-room on the wharves. We were to have gone to the Governor's
wharf in the Severn, but my grandfather changed his intention at once.
Many of the crowd greeted him as we drew near them, and, having landed,
respectfully made room for him to pass through. I followed him a-tremble
with excitement and delight over such an unwonted experience. We had
barely gone ten paces, however, before Mr. Carvel stopped abreast of Mr.
Claude, mine host of the Coffee House, who cried:

"Hast seen his Majesty's newest representative, Mr. Carvel?"

"Mr. Hood is on board the bark, sir," replied my grandfather. "I take it
you mean Mr. Hood."

"Ay, that I do; Mr. Zachariah Hood, come to lick stamps for his
brother-colonists."

"After licking his Majesty's boots," says a wag near by, which brings a
laugh from those about us. I remembered that I had heard some talk as to
how Mr. Ho