as felt, and therefore Massachusetts was asked to
extend her law to this colony. It was then arranged for two deputies to
represent New Hampshire life in the General Court of Massachusetts.

On a summer's day in 1649, at the boat-landing not far from the Great
House, the power of this General Court was under discussion by Jonathan
Low and Thomas Berry, as they threw their lines into the river and waited
for the fish to bite.

"The Court can make a man do anything!" remarked Jonathan. Thomas seemed
to doubt it.

"My father has told me," continued Jonathan, "that not more than four
years ago Mr. Williams bought an African slave from Captain Smith. The
General Court considered it wrong for a man to own a slave and made Mr.
Williams give him up. Then they sent the black man home to Africa."

"Hush, here comes Mr. Williams now! Who is that with him?"

"That," replied Jonathan, "is Ambrose Gibbons. They are both
magistrates."

Evidently the men were talking on the same subject that was interesting
the boys, for, as Ambrose Gibbons stepped into his boat, he remarked
emphatically, "The Court has the power to control this evil. Hugh Peters
returned to England a few years ago and announced before Parliament that
he had not seen a drunken man, nor heard a profane oath during the six
years he had spent in the colonies. We can surely then control this
ungodly habit that is threatening to corrupt us."

The boys were alert to find out what the evil might be.

"As magistrates," replied Williams, "we control undue pride and levity of
behavior. We oblige the women to wear their sleeves to their wrists and
close their gowns about their throats. Our men must now overcome this
sinful habit of wearing the hair long."

Gibbons picked up his oars, remarking, "We will enforce the law after we
have met the governor and deputies, as is planned." He pushed off his
boat, and Williams walked thoughtfully away, while the boys agreed that
the Court was a power.

For several days the matter remained in Jonathan's mind. He noticed as
never before the trig little cuffs about his mother's wrists, and the
narrow collar that enclosed her throat. He was so troubled by the long
hair that swept his father's shoulders that, at last, one afternoon he
talked the matter over with his mother as she sat by the open door. They
both knew Roger Low to be a determined man and slow to accept new
customs.

Little Mary was playing with her dolls under the spre