l, and the general went into the battle with the determination to
win it or leave his body on the field. Such a man as John Stark would
make soldiers out of cowards."

Mr. Hand here proposed three cheers for General Stark and his Green
Mountain Boys, and they were given with a hearty will. One of the young
men then announced that he had a song, which had been sung at an
anniversary of the battle of Bennington, and which he would now sing,
if the company wished it. Of course, the company did wish it, and the
young gentleman sang the following words:--

Remember the glories of patriots brave,
Though the days of the heroes are o'er;
Long lost to their country and cold in their grave,
They return to their kindred no more,
The stars of the field, which in victory pour'd
Their beams on the battle are set,
But enough of their glory remains on each sword
To light us to victory yet.

Walloomsack! when nature embellished the tint
Of thy fields and mountains so fair,
Did she ever intend a tyrant should print
The footsteps of slavery there!
No! Freedom, whose smiles we shall never resign,
Told those who invaded our plains,
That 't is sweeter to bleed for an age at thy shrine,
Than to sleep for a moment in chains.

Forget not the chieftain of Hampshire, who stood
In the day of distress by our side;
Nor the heroes who nourished the fields with their blood,
Nor the rights they secured as they died.
The sun that now blesses our eyes with his light,
Saw the martyrs of liberty slain;
O, let him not blush when he leaves us to-night,
To find that they fell there in vain!

Brown and Hanson had prepared their instruments during the singing, and
immediately followed it with Washington's march, to which knives and
forks kept time.

[Illustration: MR. BLEEKER AND HIS SON.]

"An incident occurred just after the battle of Bennington, which showed
the spirit of the people of the neighbourhood," said Ransom, when the
musicians had concluded. "Old Zedekiah Bleeker, who lived in Bennington,
sent five bold sons to join our little army, just before the battle. One
of them--Sam. Bleeker--was killed; and one of the old man's neighbours
came to tell him about it--'Mr. Bleeker,' said the neighbour, 'your son
has been unfortunate.' 'What!' said the old man, 'has he misbehaved? Did
he desert his post or shrink from the cha