negro, who lifted his hat as he took them.

"Good-morning, Mr. Ledger," he said to the clerk.

"Good-morning," the clerk replied, lifting his hat.

"Well, how is the Mary Jane getting on? Have you found anything in the
market on which we can turn a penny? I want to get her off as soon as
possible."

"I was just having a talk with this young gentleman about his cheeses.
This is Mr. Walden from Rumford. You perhaps may remember his father,
with whom we traded last year."

"Oh yes, I remember Mr. Joshua Walden. I hope your father is well. I
have not forgotten his earnestness in all matters relating to the
welfare of the Colonies. Nor have I forgotten that barrel of
apple-sauce he brought to market, and I want to make a bargain for
another barrel just like it. All my guests pronounced it superb. Step
into the store, Mr. Walden, and, Mr. Ledger, a bottle of madeira, if
you please."

The clerk stepped down cellar and returned with a bottle of wine, took
from a cupboard a salver and glasses and filled them.

"Shall we have the pleasure of drinking the health of your father?"
said Mr. Hancock, courteously touching his glass to Robert's. "Please
give him my compliments and say to him that we expect New Hampshire to
stand shoulder to shoulder with Massachusetts in the cause of
liberty."

Mr. Hancock drank his wine slowly. Robert saw that he stood erect, and
remembered he was captain of a military company--the Cadets.

"Will you allow me to take a glass with you for your own health?" he
said, refilling the glasses and bowing with dignity and again slowly
drinking.

"Mr. Ledger, you will please do what you can to accommodate Mr. Walden
in the way of trade. You are right in thinking the planters of Jamaica
will like some cheese from our New England dairies, and you may as
well unload them at the dock; it will save rehandling them. We must
have Mary Jane scudding away as soon as possible."

Mr. Hancock bowed once more and sat down to his writing-desk.

Robert drove his wagon alongside the ship and unloaded the cheeses,
then called at the stores around Faneuil Hall to find a market for the
yarn and cloth and his wool. Few were ready to pay him money, but at
last all was sold.

"Can you direct me to the house of Mr. Samuel Adams?" he asked of the
town crier.

"Oh yes, you go through Mackerel Lane[12] to Cow Lane and through that
to Purchase Street, and you will see an orchard with apple and pear
trees and a big hous