of us gathered under the old tree to celebrate it.
Sam Adams was there, James Otis, Doctor Warren, John Hancock, and ever
so many more. We fired salutes, sang songs, and drank fourteen toasts.
That was at ten o'clock. Just before noon we rode out to the Greyhound
Tavern in Roxbury in carriages and chaises, and had a dinner of fish,
roast pig, sirloin, goose, chickens and all the trimmings, topping off
with plum-pudding and apple-pie, sang Dickenson's Liberty Song, drank
thirty more toasts, forty-four in all, filling our glasses with port,
madeira, egg-nogg, flip, punch, and brandy. Some of us, of course,
were rather jolly, but we got home all right," said Mr. Bushwick,
laughing.

"You mean that some of you were a little weak in the legs," said
Robert.

"Yes, and that the streets were rather crooked," Mr. Bushwick replied,
laughing once more.

They were abreast of the tree, and Robert reined in Jenny while he
admired its beautiful proportions.

"I think I must leave you at this point; my house is down here, on Cow
Lane,[6] not far from the house of Sam Adams. I'm ever so much obliged
to you for the lift ye've given me," said Mr. Bushwick as he shook
hands with Robert.

[Footnote 6: Cow Lane is the present High Street.]

"I thank you for the information you have given me," Robert replied.

[Illustration: OLD BRICK MEETINGHOUSE]

Jenny walked on, past the White Horse Inn and the Lamb Tavern. A
little farther, and he beheld the Province House, a building with a
cupola surmounted by a spire. The weather-vane was an Indian with bow
and arrow. The king's arms, carved and gilded, were upon the balcony
above the doorway. Chestnut trees shaded the green plot of ground
between the building and the street. A soldier with his musket on his
shoulder was standing guard. Upon the other side of the way, a few
steps farther, was a meetinghouse; he thought it must be the Old
South. His father had informed him he would see a brick building with
an apothecary's sign on the corner just beyond the Old South, and
there it was.[7] Also, the Cromwell's Head Tavern on a cross street,
and a schoolhouse, which he concluded must be Master Lovell's Latin
School. He suddenly found Jenny quickening her pace, and understood
the meaning when she plunged her nose into a watering trough by the
town pump. While she was drinking Robert was startled by a bell
tolling almost over his head; upon looking up he beheld the dial of a
clock and remembered