I have all the fun.
And just now I want to dance and shout, don't you, Primrose? Such news
stirs one from finger tips to toes."

"Get up and dance, then. I'll whistle a gay Irish jig, such as the men
used in Howe's time at the King of Prussia Inn, while their betters were
footing it to good British music. Think of the solemn drumbeat there
will be at Yorktown! No gay Mischianza there! What a march it will be to
the haughty prisoners!"

They all laughed at the idea of dancing, and then they talked until
Primrose said she must go home, but Polly would send a messenger to say
that she meant to keep her to dinner, and then they would take a nice
walk along Chestnut Street, and go to Market Street and see the new,
homespun goods Mr. Whitesides had in his store.

"For they say the weaver cunningly put in flocks of silk from old silken
rags and has made a beautiful, glistening surface that catches the light
in various colors. A man in Germantown, 'tis said. We shall be so wise
presently that we shall not hanker after England's goods."

What a merry time they had! And then Primrose must sing some songs.
Allin thought he had never heard anything so beautiful as the one of
Lovelace's. And he was so sorry to have them go that he looked at
Primrose with wistful eyes.

"When I am quite strong I am coming around to Madam Wetherill's for half
a day."

She blushed and nodded. He was very tired and turned over in his chair,
and in his half sleepiness could still see Primrose Henry.

The news was true enough. And though the Earl of Cornwallis received
back his sword, the twenty-eight battle flags were delivered to the
Americans, with all the other trophies.

Congress assembled and Secretary Thompson read the cheering news. Bells
were rung, and it was such a gala day as the city had never seen.
Impromptu processions thronged the streets, salutes were fired, and far
into the night rockets were sent up. The little old house in Arch
Street where Betsy Ross lived, who had made the first flag with the
thirteen stars, that could wave proudly over the other twenty-eight
captured ones, had her house illuminated by enthusiastic citizens.

Hundreds of Tories accepted the offer of pardon. Clinton reached the
Chesapeake too late for any assistance and returned disheartened and
dismayed, for it was felt that this was indeed a signal victory, and the
renown of English arms at an end.

The troops were not disbanded for more than a year afte