The Baldwin Library
A. ILONOML (Ibe MUA)
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID
AUTHOR OF â€œFORCED ACQUAINTANCESâ€
Illustrated by Amy M. Sacker
L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY
By JosEpH KniGHT CoMPANY
Colonial Wress :
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Electrotyped by Geo. C. Scott & Sons
Sie Ore We WU Sim RA ONS:
â€œBrtrsEY REGARDED HERSELF CRITICALLY IN THE
MIRRORâ€ . : 5 . 5 0 Frontispiece
â€œSHE PAUSED FOR A MOMENTâ€ , , . , 3
â€œTyre OLD DutTcH CLOCK IN THE CORNERâ€ . ee 20)
â€œÂ¢Vour Part OF THE GAME Is To BRING HIM TO
THIS RooMâ€™â€ . : ; : a ; ee z8)
â€œHerr FINGERS BUNGLED SADLY OVER THE CoRDâ€ 33
â€œBertseyâ€™s HorsE SPED OVER THE OFT-TRAVERSED
RIVER ROADâ€ . : : : . ; eS
â€œÂ¢T am AFRAID YouR ANKLE Is SPRAINEDâ€™â€ 6 zis)
â€œTHE VIEW FROM THE STAIRCASEâ€ . 7 5 - 49
Â«A CHARMING FIGURE APPEARED IN THE Door-
wayâ€. 7 . 5 , . , , Bis (oy)
â€œÂ«Hark, Do You Hear TuHaT?â€™â€ . . : 7S)
AONE ee VIED:
BeTsEY jumped ashore at the Philipse land-
ing and moored her canoe to the stump of the
old sycamore. Familiar as the scene was to
her, she paused for a moment to drink in its
beauty. Opposite, the Palisades arose above
the bright waters of the Hudson, their precipi-
tous sides, clad with autumnal foliage, present-
ing an unbroken wall of splendid color, of
manifold gradations, in the haze of Indian
summer. On this side of the river, nature
gave place to painstaking cultivation. A strip
of shingly beach, bordered by stately yew-trees,
merged into a wide expanse of velvet lawn,
dotted with rare shrubbery. On the summit
of its gentle slopes stood Manor Hall, the
residence of the Philipse family. Built in the
Dutch style of architecture, with galleries and
a flat balustraded roof, massive half doors
brought from Holland, and wide, pillared
2 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
porches with bullâ€™s-eye lights, it was esteemed
the finest mansion on the banks of the Hudson.
A thrifty apple orchard lay between the house
and the high roadâ€”or river road, as it was
usually called â€” that followed the course of the
Hudson from the town of New York, seven-
teen miles distant, to the little Dutch settle-
ment of Albany, near the head of navigation.
The fortunes of the Philipse family had run
in a high and unbroken tide since the days
when their gracious Majesties, William and
Mary, had been pleased to erect the Manor of
Philipsburgh, which, according to the Royal
Charter, was â€œto be holden of the King, in
free and common soccage, its lords yielding,
rendering and paying therefore, yearly and
every year, on the feast-day of the Annuncia-
tion of the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the fort in
- New York, the annual rent of Â£4 12s.â€
In the years that followed the Royal grant,
by purchase and by marriage with heiresses, so
many broad acres were added to the original
demesne, that when that young heirâ€” known
amongst the Dutch as the Yonkheer * â€” who
* For whom the present town of Yonkers (Yonk-heerâ€™s) is
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 3
built Manor Hall
came to his ma-
jority, the estate
equaled in extent
a princeâ€™s realm.
It was said, indeed,
that increase of
this domain had
become a mania
in the Philipse
family; certain it
was that no gener-
ation passed that
â€œpart and parcelâ€â€™
of land was not
added to the Manor
Yet this appar-
have had its flaw.
Upon the comple-
tion of Manor Hall
gave a great ban-
4 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
quet. In the midst of the merrymaking, an
Indian appeared on the threshold and spoke
words that, mysterious as the writing on the
wall at Belshazzarâ€™s feast, was said to lie with
terrible foreboding on the secret heart of each
and every descendant of the Yonkheer.
The present Lord Philipseâ€”or Colonel
Philipse, as he was usually called â€” may have
been, at heart, as loyal to his Majesty, King
George III., as was his ancestor, the recipient
of the bounty of their Majesties, William and
Mary. But this was a time when prudent folk
took heed to their words and ways; for evil
days had fallen upon the land. A murmuring
faction had arisen against the so-called tyran-
nical course of the Ministry and Parliament ;
and, ere long, disaffection had made such prog-
ress as to reach, from petition and remon-
strance, to an armed attempt at throwing off
the allegiance to the mother country. Al
though the popular English belief, as publicly
expressed by my Lord, the Earl of Sandwich,
was that â€œall Yankees are cowards,â€ the course
of events in what was still, in British parlance,
the â€œinsurrection,â€ since the first shot was
fired at Concord Bridge a year ago, had not
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 5
borne unvarying testimony to this opinion.
Loyal adherents to the crown there undoubt-
edly were, who would have laid down life and
fortune in the royal cause. But there were
others who, whatever their party predilections,
held their own interests paramount, and deemed
it wise to await a little longer the progress of
affairs before declaring themselves openly on
either side. To this class belonged the present
owner of the Manor of Philipsburgh.
Frederick Philipse had no mind to have his
fine house burnt over his head, his lands de-
spoiled and himself haled to the gallows, seated
on a coffin with a rope around his neck â€”even
if the farce went no farther,â€”all of which
catastrophes would belike befall him if he were
convicted by the British of any overt act of
rebel sympathy. While, on the other hand, the
leader of the insurgents was known to hold the
Tories â€”as those of Royalist sympathies were
called by the opposing faction â€”in particular
detestation, deeming them a constant menace
to the American cause, and openly referring to
them as â€œabominable pests of society,â€ and
â€œexecrable parricides.â€ In the remote event
of the provincials gaining the ascendency, Mr.
6 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
Washington, who was known to be a person of
much decision of character, would unquestion-
ably follow up this vigorous language with still
more forcible action. So Frederick Philipse,
being a man to whom temporizing was easy
and natural, held himself in a nice balance be-
tween the contending forces, ready, at any con-
clusive happening, to drop gently into the camp
of either party.
It looked as though the decisive moment had
at last arrived. The preceding July, the pro-
vincials had burnt their ships behind them by a
formal Declaration of Independence. Repeated
disaster had since followed their military oper-
ations ; after meeting with a signal defeat on
Long Island, they had skulked off, under cover
of the night, to New York, where they were
speedily fallen upon by the British. After a
brief encounter near the landing on East River,
known as Kipâ€™s Bay,* in which the Yankees
exhibited all their expected cowardice, they
were chased out of town, their pursuers blowing
their bugles as on a fox-chase, as far as the hill
on which lay Mr. Murrayâ€™s farm. Here the
* Near the foot of what is now 34th Street.
t Now Murray Hill,
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. ae
good lady of the house had spread an elaborate
repast for the British officers, which proved so
appetizing that the pursuit was given over to
its enjoyment. The scattered provincials took
refuge among the hills to which the lower
banks of the Hudson rise; here the officers
at last succeeded in rallying them, and at
Harlem Heights an entrenched camp was
thrown up, and the commander-in-chief estab-
lished his headquarters.
It chanced that Miss Philipse had been shut
up in New York throughout the progress of
these exciting events, having gone thither ona
visit before the tide of combat reached the
town. An elder sister had married Col. Bev-
erly Robinson, a Virginian by birth, and a
gentleman of wealth and consideration. Susan-
nah Robinson had been dead several years,
but Miss Philipse kept up the long established
custom of frequent visits to the hospitable
mansion in the Battery, out of affectionate
regard for her sister's children. Of late, these
visits had been longer and more frequent.
Colonel Robinson had openly given all the
weight of his influence to the Royalist cause ;
he was known to be in active communication
8 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
with the Royalist governor, and other repre-
sentatives of his Majesty, and his house was the
recognized headquarters of the strong Tory
element in New York. Miss Philipse, though
cast in gentlest mould, was regarded as a per-
son of much decision of character, and it was
no secret that she found, in the Royalist circle
at Colonel Robinsonâ€™s, a more congenial atmos-
phere than that afforded by her brotherâ€™s non-
committal policy at home.
It was in eager anticipation of Miss Philipseâ€™s
return to Manor Hall that Betsey Schuyler had
paddled up the river from her own home, some
miles distant, where she had been living in the
care of an old servant, since her father and
brother had joined the Continental Army.
Betsey had just passed her fourteenth birth-
day, but, despite the disparity of years, the
friendship between her and Miss Philipse was
deep and true, holding, on the side of the latter,
something of the maternal element that is part
of every good womanâ€™s love, and which, in
this instance, was particularly called forth by
the circumstances of the girlâ€™s motherless life.
Though she smiled at and even sometimes
gently chid the worship of which she was the
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 9
object, she could not but be touched by the
unquestioning faith, and responsive to an affec-
tion so deep and true and wholly unselfish as
scarcely to need years to mature. â€œMiss
Philipse said so,â€™ was, to Betsey, all sufficient
ground for any belief. â€˜â€˜ Miss Philipse could do
no wrong!â€ was part of the girlâ€™s very creed.
The influence of beauty and of a rare mag-
netic charm was felt by all in the presence of
Mary Philipse; but there was another reason for
Betseyâ€™s loving reverence, beside personal at-
tractions, or even the tendency, not uncom-
monly displayed by a young and impressionable
girl, of seeing, in a woman older and stronger
than herself, the very ideal of womanhood.
Betsey had never read any fairy tales; she knew
nothing of novels; poetry was an unknown realm
to her. The only books at her home were the
Bible and an old copy of Foxâ€™s â€œ Book of
Martyrs,â€ and she could scarcely spell her way
through them, for, though her parents were
gentlefolk, in those days a girlâ€™s education was
held of scant account.
There was a story to which, on some long-
forgotten day, she had hearkened, that was at
once a fairy tale to the imagination of the child
Io A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
she still was in years, and a romance to the
half-wistful, half-timid fancy of the girl whose
dreams were beginning to take on the tinge of
Once upon a time, many years ago, there
lived a princess whose grace and beauty were
the theme of every tongue. Many suitors
sought her hand, but in vain, till there jour-
neyed to her realm the prince of a far-off
country. He was rich and handsome, and of
gentlest courtesy to high and low. Even brave
men spoke, with bated breath, of a strength
that was as the strength of ten, of a more than
mortal valor. A great ball was given at the
royal palace, and in the stately steps of the
first dance the prince and princess looked at
each other with the love light in their eyes.
But the mission on which the prince was
bound brooked no tarrying, and on the morrow
he took leave of the princess, saying that in
seven days he would come again. But the
promised time had long expired when he once
more drew rein at the palace gates. It was to
find the princess gone! Whence, he did not
seek to follow, nor did he stay to question or
parley, but, putting spurs to his snow - white
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. II
steed, rode on to his home in the far South, and
he and the princess never met again.
The princessâ€™s name was Mary Philipse.
The princeâ€™s was George Washington.
It was not merely that Betsey would have
shrunk from any impulse of curiosity regarding
that episode of her friendâ€™s youth, as from a
sacrilege, â€”she did not want to know more
concerning it. The knowledge of the fairy tale
without the proper ending, â€” â€œand they lived
happy ever after;â€ of the sweet beginning of
a romance that was never finished, added the
last touch of grace and reverence to her love
for her friend. To have let in the light of day
upon the precious secret would have been to
have the fairy tale made real, and so lose its
reality; to have met the hero and heroine of
the romance at the dinner-table and found
them middle-aged people, fat and bald and
stupid. By some subtle chord of sympathy
Miss Philipse understood all this, and the bond
between the child and woman was the closer
and finer because of it.
It was the most momentous event of Betseyâ€™s
life when she met â€”nay, actually talked with,
the fairy prince, the hero of romance! It was
12 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
still through the glamor of the ideal that she
beheld him, rather than in the harsher light of
reality â€” although he was become the most
important personage in the Colonies â€”the
commander -in-chief of the Continental Army.
Happily for Betsey, General Washington more
than realized the fondest dreams of girlish
imagination. General Schuylerâ€™s house was
not far from the provincial camp at Harlem
Heights, and Philip Schuyler, who had recently
been appointed to the command of General
Washington's body - guard â€”a mounted escort
of twenty young gentlemen of family â€” snatched
a few minutes from his duties to visit his home
and the little sister from whom he had been
separated a twelvemonth. Yielding to Betseyâ€™s
eager pleading, he took her to see the en-
It was spread out over a peninsula half a
mile in width, that lay between the Hudson
River on the west and the Harlem River on
the east. On three sides precipitous walls
or pathless crags formed a natural defence; the
only approach was from the south, where a
narrow highway wound up a steep declivity
known as Breakneck Hill. This quarter was
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 13
guarded by three parallel lines of fortifications,
at the distance of about a quarter of a mile
apart. A little beyond the third parallel was
the big square house of Col. Roger Morris,
now occupied by General Washington and his
military family. On the brow of the hill,
commanding a wide stretch of the river, stood
Fort Washington. At the left of a path that
zigzagged. from the landing near the foot of
Breakneck Hill to the highway was a little
spring, that had been a favorite haunt of
Betseyâ€™s in more peaceful times. Its margin
was now trampled and muddy, and the grass
worn away for many feet around. It was here
she stood and looked with absorbing interest
upon the strange scene into which war had
converted the familiar rocky meadows of the
It was a motley settlement stretched out
behind the fortifications, consisting of almost
every imaginable kind of rude shelter that
could be thrown up to serve as protection
against the autumn winds that already swept
keenly over the exposed plains. Some of the
huts were constructed of boards or sail-cloth, or
partly of both; others were of stone or turf, or
14 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
of birch or other brush. Most of them had
evidently been put together in a careless hurry,
but here and there was one whose construction
evinced considerable skill, boasting doors and
windows elaborately woven out of withes and
reeds. A few men were lounging about the
settlement, smoking or playing cards, but the
greater number were at work upon the ditches
or abatis. None of the soldiers wore what
could properly be called a uniform, and no
considerable number were dressed alike. Men
with lean, sinewy figures and shrewd faces,
bronzed to the color of mahogany, wore check
shirts and breeches of homespun. The plain
tight-fitting blue coats of the New England
farmers, with their hats decorated with a turkey-
cock feather,* the parting gift of some Yankee
sweetheart, mingled with the white frocks and
round hats of the men from Maryland and
Pennsylvania. But what especially attracted
Betseyâ€™s attention was a number of tall men â€”
she had never before seen such an assemblage
of men of extraordinary height â€” clad in ash-
colored shirts, with double capes ornamented
* Whence Yankee Doodle, â€”
â€œStuck a feather in his hat.â€
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 15
with fringe, that reached to the middle of the
thigh; fringed leggins and gay moccasins com-
pleted the picturesque attire.
All at once she saw a tall man â€” taller than
any of the Virginia riflemen â€” who was silently
watching the men at work with the spades and
pickaxes. No need to question who he was,
there could be no mistaking General Washing-
ton, even by one who had never seen him be-
fore. Nevertheless, Betsey tightened her clasp
of her brotherâ€™s hand and whispered:
Â«Ts it General Washington ?â€
â€œYes, it is his Excellency,â€ answered Philip,
in a low voice, saluting General Washington,
who just then glanced in their direction.
He approached with a firm, graceful step,
force and dignity in each line of the stately fig-
ure and handsome bronzed face, and Betsey
had time to note every detail of his appearance.
He wore a blue coat, with buff-colored facings,
and two brilliant epaulettes ; buff-colored small-
clothes and a three-cornered hat, with a black
cockade, completed his attire. An elegant
small sword was by his side, and boots and
spurs showed him ready, at a momentâ€™s warn-
ing, to mount his charger. His hair, powdered
16 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
and turned back from his forehead, was tied
with a black ribbon. He had a strong, but
mobile mouth, the lips slightly compressed,
and earnest, far-seeing eyesâ€”to which sleep
was evidently a stranger â€”in whose gray-blue
depths was an expression of resignation, almost
He looked down upon the young girl with
â€œWhom have we here?â€ he asked, and, with
the gentle courtesy of his tone, Betseyâ€™s clasp
of her brotherâ€™s hand relaxed. Reverence, even
to awe, she would always feel in the presence
of General Washington, but not fear.
â€œBetsey Schuyler, your Excellency,â€ she
answered, and dropped a curtsy.
Â«And a loyal little maid, I make no doubt.
Your father and your brother would answer
for that, even if those blue eyes did not tell
their own tale,â€ he said, with a bow in which
courtly grace blended with soldierly dignity.
Then, with a smile whose memory lingered like
a benediction, he walked on toward the outer
line of fortifications, and the childâ€™s eyes,
blinded with unconscious tears, followed him
till he was out of sight.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 17
Ardent little patriot as Betsey had heretofore
been, it is not too much to say that, after that
memorable meeting, she would gladly have died
for her country or for General Washington, she
could not have told which. Somehow, in her
crude, childish understanding, the one seemed
to stand for the other.
As Betsey now hastened across the lawn,
toward Manor Hall, her eager eyes were fas-
tened upon the centre window in the upper tier
of small paned casements. There it was Miss
Philipseâ€™s habit to muse, gazing on the broad
stretch of water and woodland. But no sweet,
fair face and welcoming wave of the hand
greeted Betsey to-day.
She passed around the house, and entered
by the front porch. Through the closed door
of the drawing-room, on the left of the entrance,
came the murmur of voices, and she paused
with mingled hesitation at interrupting a con-
versation and childish diffidence of strangers.
The door on the opposite side of the hall was
open, and, after a momentâ€™s hesitation, she en-
tered the dining-room, and seated herself in the
deep embrasure of the window. Presently the
drawing-room door opened, and the murmur
resolved into the voices of two men. One was
that of Colonel Philipse; as Betsey recognized
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 19
that of the other, she sprang from the window-
seat into the middle of the room, and looked
wildly about for some chance of escape.
Col. Roger Morris, the owner of the great
Jumel place, was a familiar figure in the neigh-
borhood, and had been a frequent visitor at
Betseyâ€™s home, till the outbreak of the war
enlisted his sympathies and those of General
Schuyler on opposite sides of the struggle. For
no reason of which she could give a rational
account, he had inspired Betsey, from her very
babyhood, with a vague, but awful terror, which
his grotesque ugliness of form and feature was
inadequate to explain. This instinctive antipa-
thy had not lessened with years, so that even
now, â€œgrown upâ€ though she was, she could
not look upon Colonel Morrisâ€™s stout, square
figure, with the bowed legs and bull neck, the
fiery face and protuberant eyes, without being
overwhelmed as with the terror of the nursery
bugaboo. The present emergency had come
upon her too suddenly for her to restrain the
old wild impulse of flight.
But which way to flee? By the one door,
she would fling herself into the very arms of
Colonel Morris; by the other, that connected
20 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
with the kitchen, she must run against the ser-
vant, whose footsteps were already heard in the
passage. It was over in an instant â€”the blind
terror, the wild leap, the flash of thought, and
a plunge toward the old Dutch clock in the
corner. Its case was large enough to conceal
a slender girl. . Pushing aside the heavy leaden
weights, Betsey whisked inside and drew the
door after her â€” not a moment too soon.
The conversation between the two gentlemen
was upon indifferent topics, till the servant left
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 21
â€œthe room. Then Colonel Morris, apparently
resuming a discussion of absorbing interest,
said, in lowered tones and with an involuntary
glance about the apartment :
â€œYou are sure that the passage is unob-
structed? If it has not been used since the
days of the Yonkheer, there might be danger
from foul air.â€
â€œI have examined it myself,â€™ answered
Colonel Philipse, in an evident sulky tone.
â€œIt is in as good condition as when it was
â€œJT suppose the original idea of a subter-
ranean passage was to provide a means of
escape against an attack of the Indians?â€ sug-
gested Colonel Morris.
Philipse briefly assented.
â€œThe wisdom of your ancestor was yours
in providing against a like danger from â€” the
rebels,â€ went on the other, in a significant tone.
Â«So prominent and uncompromising a Royalist
as Colonel Philipse is necessarily exposed to
the ill will of the insurgents.â€
â€œJT should not have told you of the passage
if I had not been on your side,â€™ returned
Philipse, with a furtively resentful air,
22 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
Â«We do not doubt your good-will,â€ rejoined
Colonel Morris, â€œalthough I must confess that
I was somewhat under the impression that it
was by a fortunate slip that I learnt of this
passage, of whose existence you and your sister
were the only living persons cognizant. We
are showing our reliance upon your loyalty in
the most conclusive manner by depending upon
your codperation in this scheme.â€ He spoke
in the bluff tones that were generally regarded
as the exponent of a rugged honesty and
blunt good-will. But there were those who,
having in some wise given offence to Roger
Morris, had lived to hold a different opinion of
what that open manner covered. â€œ Besides,â€
he went on, â€œany doubts that you have naturally
felt as to the expediency of showing your hand
may well be set at rest by recent events. The
rebels are disheartened by defeat. All their
heavy artillery was left behind in the flight from
New York; they are without military stores for
offensive operations, or camp supplies to lie
long upon the defensive. Local jealousies dis-
tract the rabble they call their army; its two
best regiments â€”the Marblehead fishermen
and Morganâ€™s Virginia riflemenâ€” are in con-
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 23
stant broils. Now is the time to strike a
decisive blow. The insurrection is stamped out
once we have laid our hands upon its backbone,
George Washington. Ha! what was that?â€
Colonel Morris started, and threw a glance over
his shoulder in the direction of the clock.
Â«JT heard nothing â€”a mouse behind the
Â«He is as superbly handsome now as when
a boy,â€™ went on Morris, in a tone of strange
discontent. â€œOne could see, as he sat his
horse, that he was straight as an Indian.â€ He
glanced, perhaps unthinkingly, at his own bowed
Â« Where did you see him?â€
â€œIn the recent encounter. Washington,
hearing the firing, galloped to Kipâ€™s Bay. He
was just in time to see two regiments of the
provincials, without having fired a shot, flying
before sixty or seventy of the British. He was
beside himself at their cowardice ; never did I
see a man in such a towering rage. Regardless
-of the bullets that were whistling around him,
he stood alone within eighty yards of the
enemy, threatening the fugitives with sword
and pistol, till one of his officers seized the
24 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
bridle of his horse and dragged him from the
field. Egad, whatever else may be said of
George Washington, he is no coward!â€™â€™ wound
up Colonel Morris, with soldierly enthusiasm.
Perhaps, if Roger Morris had been a handsome
man, he would have been a better man.
â€œ You are old friends, are you not ?â€â€™ queried
Â«â€œ Old â€” friends,â€ assented the other, in his
bluffest tones. â€œWe served together on Gen-
eral Braddockâ€™s staff, in the French and Indian
campaign. His appearance at Kipâ€™s Bay, de-
spite the inevitable changes of years, recalled
the last time I saw him, on that awful day of
Braddockâ€™s defeat. We had fallen into the am-
bush on the Monongahela; the regulars were
flying in every direction; men were being
slaughtered like sheep. Washington, heedless
that he was the target of all the best marksmen
among those howling fiends, that his coat was
riddled with bullets, and two horses had been
shot from under him, refused to take to cover,
lest his example unnerve his men, and towered
through the smoke, the very incarnation of
physical power. Seizing a field-piece as though
it were a fagot, he brought it to bear on a body
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 25
of French and Indians, and so, giving a momen-
tary check to the attack, enabled us to beat a
disorganized retreat. Not one of us would have
been alive to tell the tale if it had not been for
â€œMy recollections of him, though dating at
about the same time, are of a widely different
character,â€™ observed Philipse. â€œOn his sub-
sequent journey to Massachusetts to hold con-
ference with Governor Shirley regarding the
military precedence, he tarried over night in
New York, and Beverly Robinson, who was
an old friend and schoolmate, gave a ball in his
honor. The following morning, the young Vir-
ginian resumed his journey northward. As the
gay little cavalcade clattered along the Battery,
the company at Beverlyâ€™s flocked to the gallery,
to call good speed and fling flowers to the
departing guests. A roseâ€”TI know not from
whose hand it fell â€” Washington deftly caught,
and pressed to his lips. He rode a little in
advance of the others, on a magnificent white
charger, dressed in a uniform of blue and buff,
with a scarlet and white cloak flung over his
shoulder, and a sword knot of scarlet and gold
at his side. As he passed out of sight, he
26 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
waved his hand to us â€” the hand still holding
the rose ; and so I have ever borne him in mem-
ory. A gallant figure, truly, that might well
have been potent in love as in war!â€
â€œ Where is the outlet of the passage?â€ asked
Colonel Morris, abruptly, apparently wearied of
â€œThere are two outlets,â€ answered Philipse,
with greater readiness of tone, perhaps con-
vinced by his companionâ€™s representations of
the policy of the course to which he had acci-
dentally committed himself. â€œThe Yonkheer
provided a means of escape by both water and
land. The outlet at the river end is not far
from the stump of an old sycamore-tree, a few
feet up the bank, concealed by bushes. Mid-
way of the main passage a branch strikes off
to the left; it had its exit originally between
the roots of a large oak. When the ground
was cleared for St. Johnâ€™s Church, although
no further danger menaced from the Indians,
it was deemed expedient not to block up the
passage. A flight of steps was accordingly
built into the masonry of the church, leading
to a sliding panel in the sacristry.â€
â€œHow is the passage reached from the
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 27
â€œFrom the clock yonder. The back of the
case gives way on touching a spring â€” ap-
parently a screwâ€”Jin the upper left-hand
Â«Good! Nothing could be better for our
purpose. It was most opportune that Mr.
Washington should desire to pay his respects
to the sister of his old friend, and truly amiable
of Miss Philipse that she should consent to
receive him this afternoon. I will arrange to
have Conly and half a dozen men on hand.
The river road is in the possession of the pro-
vincials, but, by taking the inside road from
New York, and striking across the wooded
meadows by the Sawmill River, Conly can
reach the church, and so gain the passage
without danger of discovery.â€
Â« Will six men be enough?â€ demurred Phil-
ipse. â€œThey tell prodigious stories of Wash-
â€œCall it ten, if you like,â€™ rejoined Morris,
impatiently. â€œYour part of the game is to
bring him to this room. That is easily man-
aged, as you will naturally wish to offer wine
before his departure. Conly will be at the
aperture yonder at sharp five of the clock.
28 A LOYAL ELE veal:
Let the signal for his appearance be his
Majestyâ€™s health. The trap cannot fail.â€â€™
Â«You know the old Indian prophecy,â€ said
Colonel Philipse, thoughtfully, Â«Â«He was not
made to be killed by a bullet.â€™â€
â€œThere are missives more unerring than a
bullet, more silent than the knife,â€™ responded
Morris, sententiously. â€œMr. Washington will
be placed in safe quarters in the Jersey, in
Wallabout Bay. Let us hope that his gal-
lant figure and potent charm of manner will
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 29
not suffer from confinement in the prison
The conversation ceased as the servant en-
tered to remove the soup.
Â«You are expecting Miss Philipseâ€™s return?â€
queried Colonel Morris, with a courteous display
Â«She will be here soon,â€™ answered Philipse,
glancing mechanically at the clock. â€œ Why, it
has stopped!â€ he exclaimed, and, rising, walked
toward the timepiece.
FoLLowine the otherâ€™s motion, Colonel Mor-
ris turned and glanced over his shoulder; in
so doing he thrust out his foot, over which
the servant stumbled and fell headlong. The
dishes crashed upon the floor, and some of
the soup was scattered over Colonel Morrisâ€™s
breeches. In the mishap and its apologies, the
attention of both host and guest was diverted
from the errant timepiece. The dinner pro-
gressed in silence, both gentlemen apparently
absorbed in their own thoughts.
Stiff from standing so long in one position,
the imminent peril of discovery had made Betsey
almost insensible with fright; but, as soon as
the immediate danger was averted, physical
and mental discomfort were forgotten in the
face of the awful danger that menaced General
She must save him!
But the very intensity of the thought para-
lyzed further conception, and for a few moments
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 31
she stood inanimate as a mummy in its case.
Then her brain slowly cleared, and calmly and
collectedly she reviewed the situation in all jts
Until recently Betsey had been a child, her
healthful, out-of-door life tending to check a
precocious mental development. But the stirring
events of the past year, the ever-present thought
of the danger to which her father and brother
were exposed, and the sense of responsibility
that was developed, unconsciously, in the ab-
sence of those under whose guidance her years
would naturally have placed her,â€”all these
influences tended to produce a rapid growth of
character, so that, suddenly confronted by an
awful responsibility, she was capable of a matu-
rity of judgment and nicety of execution that
were beyond her years.
Her first and natural impulse was to inter-
cept General Washington on the river road,
which he would undoubtedly follow from Har-
lem Heights. But the next breath showed her
that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to
emerge from her present hiding-place, leave the
house and gain the river road, without detec-
tion, and she must risk no encounter with
32 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
Colonel Morris; for, aside from her childish and
unreasoning terror, she instinctively felt that
those bulging eyes, fixed upon her guilty face,
would at once read her cognizance of the deadly
plot. The only feasible plan would be to follow
the subterranean passage to the river and pad-
dle with all speed to Harlem Heights. General
Washington would not, in all probability, leave
the camp before three oâ€™clock ; as nearly as she
could judge, it was now a little past noon.
Expert at paddling as she was, she could cover
the distance to the encampment in two hours.
There would therefore be ample time, and even
a considerable margin, in which to convey the
warning ; and she drew a long breath of relief
as she saw the way grow clear before her.
The gentlemen left the room at last; very
cautiously, Betsey felt for the spring ; the back
of the clock slid noiselessly back, revealing, in
the light that straggled in through the chinks
of the case, a narrow staircase built into the
solid walls of the house; carefully closing the
door, and with an awful thought of the mice
that swarmed behind the wainscoting, she
plunged into the darkness below. Even after
her eyes had become accustomed to the dim
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 33
light of the passage â€”there were apertures over-
head, concealed by the shrubbery on the lawn â€”
the inequalities of the pathway obliged her to
grope her way. At last she reached the outlet,
and, by the aid of the bushes, scrambled down
the bank to the sycamore stump; her fingers,
clumsy with haste, and chilled from contact
with the damp walls of the passage, bungled
sadly over the cord that secured the canoe.
Even after she was fairly afloat, further uncon-
sidered delay tortured her. The tide, strongly
34 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
felt for many miles above the mouth of the
Hudson, had turned, and, although Betsey kept
her light craft in the comparatively still water
near the bank of the stream, it was impossible
to make rapid headway. More than once she
would have laid down the paddle in weariness
and despair, had not the thought of the peril
that she only could avert nerved her to fresh
effort. But, in spite of her utmost endeavor,
the accumulated delays consumed the time with
frightful rapidity, so that when she reached
Spuyten Duyvil, as the confluence of the Hud-
son and Harlem Rivers was called, the clock in
the neighboring hamlet of Kingsbridge struck
three. And there were still two miles before
At last the canoe shot toward the landing by
â€œWho goes there?â€ challenged the sentinel.
â€œTI am Captain Schuylerâ€™s sister. Take me
to him,â€ panted Betsey.
She told her tale as briefly as possible.
Beneath the tan of a year in camp, Philip
Schuyler turned white.
â€œHe has goneâ€”and unattended! The devil
himself could nâ€™t overtake his Excellency on his
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 35
white charger,â€ muttered the young captain of
the body-guard. â€œCome with me to Colonel
He led the way toward the Morris Mansion,
and Betsey was ushered into its former draw-
ing-room. At a table in the centre of the apart-
ment sat a boy, writing. He may have been a
few years Betseyâ€™s senior, but he was not so
tall by several inches, and his slight, delicate
frame, and a face which, though keen and alert,
had not lost the roundness of its early years,
added to the impression of extreme youth. A
pair of deep-set dark eyes was fixed upon the
unexpected visitor, and then the boy threw back
his beautifully shaped head, and broke into a
peal of apparently irresistible laughter.
Betsey flushed hotly as a sudden vivid picture
of her appearance arose before her. Her pretty
chintz frock â€”no longer recognizable â€” hung
in tattered and bedraggled folds that slapped, at
every movement, about her ankles; her hat had
been somewhere left behind on her late journey,
and, as she impatiently brushed her disheveled
hair from out her eyes, her face, dripping with
exertion, had become grotesquely streaked and
stained with the soil with which her hands were
36 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
â€œMy sister,â€ announced Captain Schuyler,
stiffly; and, turning to Betsey, â€œ Colonel
Hamilton,â€ he added, with pointed formality.
Â«J crave your pardon,â€ said Colonel Hamil-
ton, instantly grave, and, with a low bow, placed
a chair for his visitor. Betsey struggled to
grasp the fact that this handsome, rude boy
was General Washingtonâ€™s confidential secre-
tary and first aid-de-camp. As her brother
briefly rehearsed the story, Colonel Hamilton
listened in silence, his close-set mouth grow-
ing more compressed. At the mention of the
prison ship, a fire came into the magnificent
eyes that transfigured the whole mobile face.
â€œGood God; I saw one of those floating
hells at the West Indies!â€ he cried. â€œThe
prisoners were packed, like herrings, into a
filthy oven in the hold of the vessel, without
decent food, or water that was fit to drink,
denied even the means of the commonest
decency. The poor wretches, cursing, in a
breath, heaven and their hellish masters, crip-
pled and distorted with rheumatism, and rotting
with putrid fever out of all semblance to
humanity, went raving mad, or became drivel-
ing idiots before death at last released them
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 37
from their sufferings. Genxeral Washington !â€â€™
He shuddered and put his hands before his
Only for an instant did emotion overmaster.
Stepping to a topographical map that hung on
â€œYou know the country?â€ he queried.
Â«Every inch,â€ answered Captain Schuyler,
Â«There are woods in front of the Philipse
Â« An orchard.â€
Hamilton went on in rapid direction.
â€œ Detail Morgan and a squad of his riflemen.
He is to dispose of them in the orchard; they
have learnt the Indian art of making themselves
invisible, and the. British stand in wholesome
awe of their skill as marksmen. Instruct
Morgan that when his Excellency displays his
handkerchief at the window, instantly to throw
himself upon the house. Bid him â€˜have a care
not to precipitate matters. The evident aim of
the conspirators is to secure General Washing-
ton alive, but they will not lightly let him slip
through their fingers. Conlyâ€™s name, alone,
stamps the character of the plot; he was one
38 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
of Browerâ€™s men, who, by a miracle, escaped
the fate of his mates when they were hanged at
Jamaica for their atrocious crimes, of which
piracy was the least,â€ concluded the young
West Indian. â€œ Report for further orders.â€
Captain Schuyler saluted and left the room.
â€œYour brother will mount you to your
home,â€™ Hamilton went on, turning to Betsey.
â€œThen saddle your own horse and ride on to
Manor Hall. At this juncture, you are the
only person who can effect entrance without
exciting suspicion. Get his Excellencyâ€™s ear.
Say to himâ€”unseen, hark youâ€”that if he
hears proposed the health of the King, instantly
to display his handkerchief at the window.
Remember, it is General Washington's life, the
fate of the country itself, that hangs in the
balance, and depends upon your prompt and
discreet action. Can we rely upon you ?â€
Â« Yes,â€ answered the girl, and all her love
for her friend seemed compressed into the
word. To save General Washington was to
save him for Miss Philipse. That had been the
guiding thought throughout the intense strain
of the past few hours, and its inspiration now
strung her aching limbs and over-wrought
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 39
nerves to renewed effort. â€œI will tell Miss
Philipse,â€ she added, confidently.
Hamilton started, and in his most imperious
â€œOn your life, no! Miss Philipse is at the
bottom of the affair!â€
Â«She knows nothing of it!â€ exclaimed the
girl, angrily. â€œWhy, she has been away from
home ever since Colonel Morris has been
â€œExactly; at Col. Beverly Robinsonâ€™s,â€ re-
joined Hamilton, calmly.
â€œT donâ€™t believe it? You donâ€™t know her.
You have no right to say such a thing!â€ cried
the girl, in a passionate, incoherent outburst.
â€œMiss Philipse could do no wrong !â€
With his burning eyes holding the girl in
spite of herself, Hamilton, with the grasp and
succinctness of the born lawyer, summed up his
â€œThe Tories are the most implacable and
virulent of our enemies. Miss Philipseâ€™s Tory
sympathies are well known. She is in constant
communication with Colonel Robinson, whose
house is the headquarters of the Tory element.
It is by her appointment that General Washing-
40 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
ton visits Manor Hall this afternoon. I have
heard mention of an old love affair between her
and his Excellency, in which, if report has not
garbled, the lady had some reason to hold
Â«Â«Hell knows no fury like a woman
scorned,â€™â€ quoted Hamilton, who had the repu-
tation of being a scholar. â€œMoreover,â€ he
added, in his crisp, concise tones, â€œif the end
were merely to crush the provincial cause, the
ignominy of the gallows would supply the most
effective means. A knowledge of women
readily instructs that to destroy an enemyâ€™s
good looks is essentially a womanâ€™s revenge,â€
he concluded, with a touch of youthful brag-
gadocio that would have been amusing under
less serious circumstances.
_ Captain Schuyler returned with the report
that Morgan and his men, in their saddles in
instant obedience to their leaderâ€™s â€œturkey-
callâ€ summons, were already on the road.
Betsey left the room with her brother.
Â«What a hateful, horrid boy!â€ she exclaimed,
before the door had hardly closed behind them.
Â«Every one either loves or hates Alexander
Hamilton,â€ returned Captain Schuyler.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 4I
Â«Well, I hate him,â€ cried the girl, with a
vehemence that was unheedful of the near
presence of the object of her dislike.
Never had Betseyâ€™s horse sped over the oft-
traversed river road at such a pace. Only
once did his mistress draw rein. As she neared
Kingsbridge, three men suddenly scrambled
down the bank, where they had been con-
cealed behind a thicket, playing cards, and held
her up. They proved to belong to a body of
the neighboring country folk, recently banded
together under the leadership of John Paulding,
an old farmer of Tarrytown, for the purpose of
waging a kind of independent warfare against
the British marauders known as â€œcowboys,â€ who
infested the lower stretch of river road, har-
assing the inhabitants and carrying aid and
comfort to the British troops in New York.
As one of the men, David Williams by name,
was a tenant on the Manor of Philipsburgh, and
well known to Betsey, she was speedily on her
way again, with the cheery words,â€”
â€œWe only stop bad people. A pleasant ride
to you, Miss Betsey, and my respects to Miss
In former times, there had been many mar-
42 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
riages between the English officers stationed at
New York,â€” one of the most important military
posts in the colonies,â€” and the fair Colonial
dames, and these alliances were the paramount
reason of the present strong Tory influence in
the town. At the beginning of the struggle, it
was inevitable that there should result much
heartburning when, as often happened, the in-
terests of kith and kin, or the ofttimes far
stronger bonds of friendship, pulled in one direc-
tion, while patriotism and conviction tugged with
equal force in the other. But though some-
thing of the inner meaning of war had come
home to Betsey, this most poignant experience,
as of brother raising his hand against brother,
she had hitherto been spared. The influence
of Miss Philipse was too strong, the conviction
of her infallibility too inviolate, to permit any
question as to her party sympathies. Besides,
â€œToryâ€ or â€œrebel,â€ she remained Miss Philipse.
It was not that Betseyâ€™s faith in her friend was
assailed by the cruel words to which she had
been forced to listen; girlish loyalty is not
lightly shaken. But, in spite of herself, the
burning eyes of Alexander Hamilton had laid
their ukase upon her thoughts, as well as on
3) scx )))
Z Sy ,
ms <â€” Stor
â€œBETSEYâ€™S HORSE SPED OVER THE OFT-TRAVERSED RIVER ROAD.â€
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 45
her acts and speech, as they were wont to
coerce the wills of wiser and stronger people
Truth and loyalty were gone out of the world
when Miss Philipse could do wrong.
She had reached, at last, St. Johnâ€™s Church,
where, in spite of the commands of Congress,
the Kingâ€™s name was still retained in the
liturgy. She had turned from the river road,
and was galloping along the driveway leading
to Manor Hall; there was a glimpse of a figure
in blue and buff seated in the embrasure of
the drawing-room window, and then she felt
the saddle slipping from under her and was
flung headlong, her head striking against some-
When she recovered consciousness, it was to
find herself on a big four-posted bed, with a
high tester, and a valance of red and white
India patch. A turbaned head was bending
over her ankle with some hot embrocation, and
there was a queer pungent smell, as of some
thing burning, in the air. Opposite, was a big
fireplace faced with quaint Dutch tiles repre-
senting scenes from Bible history; an over-
46 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
mantel, wrought with arabesques of the English
rose, was surmounted by a device of a crowned
lion, rampant, rising from a coronet; as Betseyâ€™s
bewildered gaze strayed to the familiar Philipse
crest, all at once her thoughts grew clear. A
wave of recollection spent itself in the cry,â€”
The valance was pushed aside, and Miss
Philipseâ€™s face, pale and anxious, looked down
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 47
â€œDonâ€™t try to move, dear. Your foot caught
in the stirrup, and I am afraid your ankle is
â€œGeneral Washington!â€ repeated the girl,
mechanically, her thoughts apparently unable to
advance beyond the point where everything had
ended in darkness.
Â«Yes, darling, it was General Washington
who carried you here, in his own arms,â€ said
Miss Philipse, soothingly. â€œHe saw the acci-
dent from the drawing-room window, and was
instantly on the spot. Draw the bandage tight,
Rose,â€ she directed to the slave woman.
Â«Does it hurt?â€ she added, bending low over
But it was not physical pain that wrung the
moan from Betsey. Her glance had fallen on
the clock upon the mantel shelf. It lacked but
five minutes of five oâ€™clock ! 3
General Washingtonâ€™s lifeâ€”the fate of the
countryâ€”hung in the balance, and she lay
there, helpless! â€œNot a word to Miss Phil-
ipse!â€ rang the masterful voice.
What, keep silence! with the touch of that
soft hand on her forehead, with the beautiful
eyes looking lovingly and pityingly into her
48 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
own? Straightway Betsey forgot the lesson
that had been read her by the youthful mas-
ter whose intuitive insight and foresight made
him one of the marvels of the age; forgot
that those who were older and wiser than
herself had taken the matter in hand and
that it was now her part to obey; forgot
the momentous issues that hung upon her
action. She only knew that truth and loyalty
were in the world, and Miss Philipse could do
She flung her arms about her friendâ€™s neck
and whispered. Miss Philipse gave a slight
start; a strange, set look came into her face,
and then, without query or comment, she swiftly
left the room. Through the open door, Betsey
heard the murmur of voices in the hall below.
Then she distinguished Colonel Philipseâ€™s tones,
â€œMay I be permitted to offer a glass of wine
to your Excellency ?â€
â€œWill not his Excellency allow me to show
him the view from the staircase landing?â€
suggested Miss Philipse.
Their footsteps ascended the broad, low
stairs. It was but a moment that they lin-
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 49
gered before the window, for other matters
claimed General Washington than a fair
scene of water and woodland. Had Miss
Philipse opportunity to voice the warning,
with her brother and Colonel Morris intent
in the hall below? Would Colonel Morgan
be on time â€”would he see the signal?
And somewhere, in her inmost conscious-
ness, the warning words of Alexander Hamil-
ton rang with dizzy pertinacity. Miss Philipse
and the three gentlemen went into the dining-
50 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
room and their voices were no longer audible
The wine was poured. Frederick Philipse
raised his glass.
â€œ His Majesty, the King!â€
WasuincTon turned and placed his untasted
glass upon the window-seat. As he did so,
there was an almost imperceptible movement
of his left hand toward the breast - pocket of
Hardly had the toast left the lips of Fred-
erick Philipse, when the door of the clock
was flung violently back and a redcoated
figure stepped through the aperture ; another,
and yet another, till half a score of armed
men stood drawn up in line, passively awaiting
Colonel Morris advanced a step or two.
Something held him from farther approach.
Â«I trust you see that resistance is useless,â€
he said. â€œMr. Washington, you are my
Washington stood silent and motionless, one
hand behind his back, the other resting on the
hilt of his sword. But he was not good for his
foes to look upon.
52 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
It was not alone that the high temper nearly
broke loose and ran uncontrolled at the aspect
of the broken troth plight of hospitality, sacred
to the Virginian as to the Norseman of old, and
of the cowardice that would overwhelm a de-â€”
fenceless man with numbers. At the sight of
the armed men, there had arisen the fighting
spirit, before which even savage warriors had
quailed, the indomitable eagerness for the fray,
the love of battle for battleâ€™s sake, that flowed
in his'veins with the hot blood of his race â€”of
those far-off Norman de Wessyngtons. The
veins stood out on his temples, the blue-gray
eyes grew clear and dark, with the glint of
steel, the jaw was more firmly set, the massive
figure towered with the force that, far back in
the centuries, had stood in the forefront of
battle and wrested for itself, by the spirit of
all that is boldest and worthiest in man, the
â€œdivine rightâ€ of kings !
The iron will had reasserted its mastery.
â€œJT beg your pardon, gentlemen,â€ said
Washington, imperturbably, â€œbut you are my
There was the sudden trample of many feet
in the hall without, and into the room trooped a
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 53
score of big men, in fringed hunting-shirts and
with levelled rifles.
Â«If you decide to remain, I will give you all
the protection in my power,â€ said Washington.
Miss Philipse shook her head, gravely and
Â«â€œ How could I accept the protection of one
who is in arms against my King?â€ she an-
swered, with the gentle dignity, the sweet and
serious simplicity, that belonged to her.
â€œColonel Morris and your brother shall be
released on their paroles,â€ continued Washing-
ton; â€œbut I should not be doing my duty if I
suffered Colonel Philipse to remain at Philips-
burgh. The Hudson is the key to the whole
situation ; I cannot endanger its possession.â€
There was no suggestion of rancor in his
tones. Although treachery, like cowardice, was
something he could not understand, his mag-
nanimity was greater than his scorn. He was
pacing the room to and fro, as was his habit
when deeply perturbed.
Â«JT could not remain in a land where the
name of my King must no more be mentioned,
even in prayer. If we could reach our friends
54 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
in New York, they would assist us to England.
_ John Williams, our faithful steward, will remain
here and care for the estate,â€ said Miss Philipse.
She spoke quietly and collectedly, as though
the words were the result of some long fore-
seen contingency. â€˜â€œ Years ago, it was foretold
us, â€˜Your possessions shall pass from you,
when the eagle shall despoil the lion of his
mane.â€™ The mysterious words have grown
clear ; for from the hour you drew your sword
beneath the Cambridge elm, the commander-
in-chief of the Continental Army, I knew that
these Colonies were lost to King George for-
They had withdrawn to the upper chamber
to hold their brief parting conference, forgetting
or disregardful of the childâ€™s presence on the
bed. Too full of love, and sorrow, and rever-
ence for tears; feeling vaguely that she was in
the presence of something that was beyond her
girlish understanding, Betsey listened, perforce,
to the words that followed, but with no more
taint of curiosity than the guardian angels listen.
She might have let the valance veil her sight,
but there her strength failed her. Foreboding,
soon deepened to certainty, lay heavily upon
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 55
her heart, that the time in which she could look
upon her beloved friend was fast drawing to a
close. She plucked back a corner of the cur-
tain, and gazed hungrily upon every detail of a
picture whose memory must last her forever.
Miss Philipse stood at one end of the fire-
place, with a hand resting lightly on the mantel
shelf. She was dressed in a delicate blue and
white copperplate calico, with a muslin apron,
over a flounced petticoat of blue lutestring; a
half handkerchief, knotted with straw ribbons,
was folded, kerchiefwise, over her breast ; her
hair, drawn back in loose waves from her lovely
pale face, was partially concealed beneath a
frilled muslin cap, from which soft dark curls
drooped low in the neck behind.
Washington stood at the other end of the fire-
place, in the prime of his magnificent manhood.
â€œYou have saved my life at the cost of your
beloved home,â€ he said, at length, in low,
â€œT would have saved your life at the cost of
my own!â€ returned Mary Philipse, and, for the
first time, there was a tremor in her voice.
Her downcast eyes were raised slowly, as
though impelled by an irresistible impulse, and
56 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
through a mist met his own, in which the pen-
sive look had deepened to sadness. It was by
a supreme effort of the iron will that Washing-
ton held the distance between them.
â€œT thought to find you the wife of Roger
Morris,â€ he said, quietly.
â€œI have given no man the right to hold me
in his thoughts as wife,â€ answered Mary Philipse,
slowly and wonderingly.
There was a deadly stillness in Washingtonâ€™s
voice when its tones again broke the silence.
â€œ That night â€”do you remember â€”we danced
the minuet together, I asked your permission to
wait upon you on my return from Boston. De-
spite my utmost urgencies, when I arrived
again at the house of Beverly Robinson, I was
three little days too late. You had returned to
Manor Hall, and your sister told me of your
betrothal to Roger Morris, yesterday's con-
summation of a long-standing family compact.â€â€™
Â«Susannah is dead,â€ said Mary Philipse,
softly. â€œIt was the dearest wish of her heart
to see the Jumel place added to the Manor of
Philipsburgh.â€â€ A subtle echo rang in the words
that lay not in their spoken sense â€” â€œ May
Heaven forgive her, and help me to forgive
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 57
her!â€ â€œShortly after, I heard of your marriage
with the Widow Custis,â€ she added, presently.
Â«She has been a good and faithful wife to
me. God knows my heart has never strayed
from her,â€ said Washington, simply.
There was a silence that was long in the
reckoning that is not of minutes. Then each
looked into the otherâ€™s face, as they look who
may not look again, and to the words that were
wrung from them, the child and the angels
Â«Ag I passed beneath the gallery, you flung
a rose to me!â€
Â« As you passed out of sight, you waved your
hand to me!â€
There was no tremor in the gentle tones, and
no mist dimmed the light â€” finer and purer and
higher than even the love light of long ago â€” in
the beautiful eyes, as Mary Philipse spoke her
â€œT saw you, even then, one on whom God
had laid His consecrating hand. I see you now,
the great soldier who shall fight this war to a
successful issue. I shall see you the statesman,
standing at the head of the nation he has done
more than any other man to make, silent amidst
58 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
every difficulty, firm before every onslaught,
aiming at no other ends than his countryâ€™s, his
Godâ€™s and truthâ€™s. May my prayers shield
you and aid you, even in your high estate!
More than all, I shall see you, as I have al-
ways seen you, â€”for did any human being ever
bate one jot of his faith in you! â€”the pure,
high-minded gentleman, of dauntless courage
and stainless honor. God grant I may not die,
till I see the land, for which you have fought
and toiled, in the foremost rank of nations.â€â€™
He bent his head low over her outstretched
Â«God be with you,â€ he said.
Tue neighborhood of the lower Hudson was
again the scene of active warfare, and Betseyâ€™s
continued sojourn at the summer home was in-
expedient, if not dangerous. Fortunately, at
this juncture, General Schuyler was appointed
to the command of the northern army, and as
his headquarters were at the family mansion
in Albany, he was enabled to relieve his anxi-
ety concerning his little daughter by transfer-
ring her thither. Here, busied with the many
and varied cares of a large household, three
Late one afternoon in midsummer, Betseyâ€™s
little negro maid, Marian, came to her mistressâ€™s
bedroom with the tidings that a guest had
arrived, who would sup and spend the night.
â€œLet the squirrel pasty and the haunch of
cold venison be served,â€ directed Betsey. â€œI
prepared a sufficient variety of cakes this morn-
ing, and there is an abundance of hickory and
other nuts cracked. Fresh strawberries and
60 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
wild grape jelly will no doubt be welcome to a
traveller, and the compote of our ground cherry
may not be amiss to one who knows not the
flavor of that rare fruit. You heard not his
name, Marian ?â€â€™
Â«He is called Colonel Hamilton,â€™
Betsey started and dropped her bunch of
keys, which in housewifely fashion was sus-
pended from her girdle.
Â«Was he short and slight, but of rare grace
and activity; had he burning dark eyes â€” eyes
that once seen could never be forgotten ?â€â€™ she
Â«That is he,â€™ returned the maid. â€˜You
know him, then?â€™ she added, with deep in-
The little slave girl, when three years old,
had been given to Betsey as a birthday present ;
in the close companionship of the succeeding
years, there had grown up between mistress
and maid a degree of familiarity in which, on
the one side, a care and protection that held no
suggestion of the harsh rule of authority was
met, on the other, by a single-hearted devotion
that made its mistressâ€™s interests its own.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 61
Betsey had matured rapidly in the past three
years ; her domestic responsibilities, her close
contact with the stirring life of the times, as
the daughter of one of the leaders of the Revo-
lution, the frequent visits at the Schuyler man-
sion of men whose minds were making their
impress upon the age, had all contributed to
this result. But she was still a girl in years,
and the need of a youthful confidant was some-
Â«â€œ I saw him but once,â€ she answered ; â€œâ€™t was
years ago; doubtless he has forgotten. Tell
me, Marian, am I not much changed since we
came to Albany?â€ she went on, drawing her-
self to her full height. â€œIam taller, my face
is not so round; this fashion of dressing my
hair over a cushion gives me quite a different
air, does it not?â€
Marian regarded her mistress dubiously.
Â«Jn that white jaconet muslin, with the frill
of scalloped lace about your neck, and the
bright morone sash, you look just as you did
three years ago,â€ she answered, decidedly. â€œIn
the blue brocade, now, you are such a stately
dame that I am sure no one would know you
who may have seen you in New York.â€
62 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
â€œThen fetch me the blue brocade, Marian,â€
cried Betsey. â€œDoubtless Colonel Hamilton
comes on an official mission, and I would show
him all the attention that is due his Excellencyâ€™s
special envoy, and not less his own distin-
guished merits, for, notwithstanding his youth,
â€˜tis said that Alexander Hamilton does the
thinking of the times.â€
Her toilet completed, Betsey regarded herself
critically in the mirror. The blue brocade, with
its pointed stomacher, opened in front over a
long trained skirt of crimson satin, without
vanity, became her right well; the green mo-
rocco slippers with the high heels added a good
inch to her height, and the two little half-moon
patches â€” one on her cheek and the other on
her forehead â€” gave an air of the mode that
would surely dispel any possible vague recollec-
tion of a dirty-faced little girl. But â€”
â€œTI fear I do not look so very old, after all ;
not nearly so old as did Aunt Schuyler in this
very gown,â€ she sighed.
â€œMadam Schuyler was a very old lady â€”
nearly fifty years old when she died,â€ rejoined
Marian. â€œBut perhaps I made a mistake
in suggesting the brocade,â€ she added, regard-
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 63
ing her mistress critically. â€˜Your eyes are
brighter than usual, and your cheeks are very
Â« will endeavor to add ten, twenty years to
my age by the dignity of my demeanor, and the
gravity of my speech! The late surrender of
Burgoyne and the proceedings of Congress will
afford becoming themes. â€˜Tis the fashion in
Albany not to rise in receiving company ; in
New York, they are wont to greet a guest in
different wise. I would not that Colonel Ham-
ilton think we know nothing of courtly ways in
our little provincial town.â€ Betsey swept a low
curtsy to her own reflection in the glass.
Â« Colonel Hamilton comes, then, from New
York?â€ queried Marian.
Â«He came there, at an early age, from
Marian dropped the jaconet gown she was
smoothing out, and her eyeballs rolled up till a
ghastly extent of white appeared.
Â« Why should not Colonel Hamilton be born
in Jamaica, or anywhere else if he so pleases Ne
exclaimed Betsey, impatiently.
Â«â€œ Jamaica â€” bad place!â€ chattered the girl.
64 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
â€œYou foolish child! Bad people go to
Jamaica, they do not come from there!â€â€™ cried
But this was too fine a distinction for the
little slave girlâ€™s comprehension. Her knees
shook beneath her, and her face had a hideous
â€œJT am ashamed of you, Marian!â€ said Bet-
sey, severely. â€œCould you not read in Colonel
Hamiltonâ€™s eyes that he would wittingly do no
one harm, even in thought? Those eyes belie
him sorely, if, despite the occasional self-suffi-
ciency of youth, he could ever be aught but the
just and generous gentleman.â€
But Marian, muttering something that may
have been either an attempt at self-exculpation,
or an incoherent expression of terror, slipped
from the room. Betsey, supposing she had
gone to the kitchen, to aid, as usual, in the
preparation of the supper, soon followed. Ab-
sorbed in her own thoughts, she did not notice
the absence of the usual servants about the
hall or corridors. To her surprise, the kitchen
a glance from their several windows, revealed
no one in sight. The recollection of Marianâ€™s
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 65
fright dispelled the momentary mystification.
The servants had taken flight in a body, before
the spell of that terrible word, Jamaica !
General Schuyler had been suddenly called
away on some official errand, leaving his guest
on the portico to await his early return. The
portico at the Flatsâ€”as the Schuyler estate
was called â€” was the most characteristic feature
of the house. The dining-room â€”or eating-
room, as it was usually called â€”was a sunless
apartment, hung with Scripture paintings of a
gloomy tenor, and was used only when the
exigencies of the weather compelled. The
portico was not only, from early summer,
the living-room of the family, but was also
drawing-room and dining-room. It was open at
the sides, while overhead a light latticework,
covered with the luxurious growth of a wild
grapevine, afforded protection from the sun.
A seat ran around the sides, and on a long,
narrow shelf above a number of birdsâ€™ nests
were arranged. Numerous birds of a bright
cinnamon brown color were darting hither and
thither in the flickering sunlight, or rustling
about in the foliage overhead; others were glid-
ing over the table with a butterfly or a cherry
66 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
in their bills with which to feed their young,
who were chirping from the nests on the shelf,
or from out the shelter of the leafy roof. Sev-
eral of the tame little creatures were hopping
about the bench by the strangerâ€™s side, or
venturing inquisitively upon his knees and
arms. He sat motionless, watching their move-
The chirping of innumerable insects mingled
with the twittering of the wrens; the lowing
of the cows, wending their homeward way from
the common, sounded from beyond the garden ;
leading thence to the village street was a long
avenue, bordered by Morella cherry-trees, which
were evidently regarded by the birds as their
especial storehouse. A wren, with a particularly
fine cherry dangling from its bill, let go its hold
prematurely, and the fruit fell into Hamiltonâ€™s
hand, as it lay palm upward, upon his knee;
involuntarily the hand closed, and the wren,
instantly lighting upon it, cocked his head to
one side, and, in a storm of vituperative twitter-
ings, gave vent to his anger and indignation at
this bold-faced robbery. Hamilton threw back
his head with the gesture that betrayed his
youth, and laughed aloud.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 67
A charming figure appeared in the doorway
in a stately garb that accentuated the graceful
outlines and girlish bloom of its wearer. Betseyâ€™s
steps were nicely balanced, and her face was
preternaturally grave, with two little frowning
lines between the brows, brought there partly
by the provoking domestic exigency, and partly
by the difficulty of managing a train whilst
carrying a pasty that plainly needed both hands
for its support.
68 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
â€œLet me help you!â€ cried Hamilton, and
sprang to her aid.
One on each side, the pasty was set upon the
table. Hamilton fell back a step or two.
â€œJT have the honor of addressing Miss
Schuyler?â€â€™ he said, with a low bow. â€œWe
have met before.â€â€™
The stately curtsy seemed ignominiously out
of place. Betseyâ€™s equanimity, already sorely
tried, was unequal to a reply in courtly phrase,
and only her native honesty dictated her answer.
â€œT thought â€”I hoped you had forgotten!â€
Â«â€œT had not forgotten,â€ returned Hamilton,
quietly. â€œIt was, indeed, my unofficial mission
to Albany to tell you that I erred grievously at
our former meeting,â€ he went on, in his simple,
direct fashion, the exponent of a magnanimity
of which only a proud, upright nature, self-
convicted of error, is capable. â€œI crave your
pardon for the wrong I did your friend.â€
But a hard, cold look had come into Betseyâ€™s
loyal blue eyes that boded ill for Hamiltonâ€™s
petition. And he, partly because of the pure
integrity of a nature that could not rest content
with a wrong unrighted, though committed only
in thought, partly because of the imperious
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 69
will that brooked no opposition to its ungar-
nished yea or nay, went on in the tones, irresist-
ibly winning, that could wring assent from the
most stubborn adversary.
â€œPhilip told me how she saved General
Washingtonâ€™s life, knowing well what the cost
would be. All that night I heard his Excellency
pacing his room; even JI, his most trusted
friend, dared not approach. Afterward, as you
know, when Colonel Philipse broke his parole
and was attainted for treason, she was unjustly
included in the sentence, and the Manor of
Philipsburgh was confiscated by Congress. I
was not behind General Washington in the
endeavor to right the cruel wrong. Letter after
letter was written; but in vain his Excellency
expostulated, urged, condemned; in vain I put
his representations into the strongest, most
convincing words at my command. I journeyed
to Philadelphia to hold personal conference with
Congress ; but in its fatuity, its self-sufficiency,
its bat -like opposition to every measure pro-
posed by Washington, because, forsooth, they
fancy him aiming at supreme power, â€” Miss
Philipse, the one woman out of the records of
the time, must stand, forever, as traitor! Be-
7O A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
lieve me, all that man could do I have done.
If I judged harshly, precipitately, cruelly, if
love of my friend made me, for the moment,
unlovely toward yours, will you not forgive me
for a horrid, hateful boy?â€
He spoke with the clear, calm reason, the
temperate self-assertion of maturity; yet it was
less the direct appeal of his words than that
which rang in his tones, â€”the flawless gen-
erosity of a nature incapable of harboring re
sentment, by which Betsey stood all at once
convicted before the court of conscience of an
unjust and paltry grudge; and the echo of her
own childish, passionate words added to the
weight of the self-accusation.
But the rankling memory of the laugh at the
ragged, dirty-faced little girl was not readily
assuaged. Forgiveness might come by and by ;
but for the present, â€” well, for the present, she
must set before him the daintiest fare her
housewifely stores afforded, and herself serve
him at table as an honored guest.
â€œOur servants have fled,â€ she said, demurely.
â€œMy father will soon, doubtless, be able to
persuade them to return; but, meantime, will
you pardon me if household duties call me?â€
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 71
Â«They have not run away?â€ queried Hamil-
ton, perhaps with some vague reminiscence of
the life of the negro slaves in the West Indies.
Â«â€œT think they have gone no further than a
clearing in the Bush, a few miles from here,
where a settler has been wont to receive them
kindly. Our people are warmly attached to
us ; it is seldom, indeed, that any one in Albany
has an unruly servant; but when all gentle
means have failed to win such a one to better
courses, he is sold to Jamaica. And the dread
of that fate amongst the negroes is so great
that they have to be carefully watched on
the boat to New York, lest they attempt self-
destruction. Jamaica stands to them for I
know not what of horror; soâ€” they are very
ignorant, very foolish â€” when they heard that
you were from Jamaica â€”â€
â€œInstead of their going to Jamaica, it was
Jamaica coming to them,â€ finished Hamilton.
â€œT crave your pardon, again, for having unwit-
tingly brought such panic into your house-
It might be that she had erred as grievously
as the servants in her conception of Alexander
Hamilton. Perhaps she would forgive him,
72 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
quite, before his departure. She was glad he
was to remain but one night â€” almost.
The following morning Betsey was early
upon the portico. It was her custom, before the
round of daily household duties began, to gather
a supply of cherries, and place a portion beside
each nest on the shelf ; the chirping and twitter-
ing that followed told that her ministrations
were appreciated. She had scarcely finished
her task, when Hamilton appeared, booted and
spurred for an early journey.
â€œTt has been an unusually hot summer,â€ ex-
plained Betsey ; â€œ our wrensâ€™ wings have drooped
sadly with the heat and the difficulty of finding
food; so I have been helping them. Hark, do
you hear that!â€ she exclaimed, eagerly, and
held up her finger to enjoin silence.
It was the notes of a bird, exquisitely modu-
lated, rising from a few single notes, seemingly
shaken from its throat like dewdrops from the
heart of a rose, and swelling into a sustained
volume of melody, of wonderful compass and
variety ; the song died away as it had begun, in
the crystal clear, scattered notes.
â€œTt is unlike the song of any bird I ever
heard!â€ cried Betsey, breathlessly. â€œIt sang
â€œ* HARK, DO YOU HEAR THAT?â€™â€
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 75
for hours in the moonlight last night, as I lay
â€œTt is a mocking-bird,â€ explained Hamilton.
â€œT did not know that it built so far north as
this latitude. That is its call note,â€ he added,
as a single long, mournful note sounded from
the upper branches of a tree in the garden.
Â«There must be a nest there!â€
â€œ Doubtless; tis the breeding season.â€
â€œT wish the tree were not so high. I should
much like to see the eggs,â€ said Betsey, wistfully.
â€œTJ will get one for you,â€ volunteered Ham-
â€œQh, but indeed you must not!â€ cried
Betsey. â€œWe never allow our birds to be
molested ; they always know if an egg has been
touched, and are most indignant at the outrage. Â»
I am afraid the mocking-bird would leave. us if
its nest were disturbed. Besides, you might
get hurt yourself, andâ€”and his Excellency
would be so very sorry!â€
â€œMy spurs will serve as spike nails,â€ returned
Hamilton ; â€œ there are usually five eggs. They
can surely spare us one.â€
â€œT should like much to have that glorious
song where I could hear it through our long
76 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
winter. Perhaps, if I had the egg â€”â€â€™ hesitated
Hamilton was already in the garden. He
soon returned and placed a small egg in Bet-
seyâ€™s eagerly outstretched hand.
â€œâ€˜ How pretty, how charming it is!â€ she cried.
â€œSee how the lovely pale green is flecked and
splashed with the dainty brown! â€
â€œ Blue, is it not ?â€â€™ queried Hamilton.
His head and Betseyâ€™s nearly touched as they
bent together over the egg. Very gently,
Hamilton placed his hand beneath hers that
he might more closely scrutinize the debated
â€œT think it is green,â€ repeated Betsey, weigh-
ing her words. â€œIn this light, so, is it not?â€
Her blue eyes were raised, gravely, to Hamil-
â€œIn Albany, blue is the fairer color,â€ he
answered, smiling. â€˜I have not heard a mock-
ing-bird since I left Jamaica,â€ he added.
Â«Jamaica must be a beautiful land with such
music to fill the nights,â€™ said Betsey, with a
gentle inflection in her voice that held more
than the spoken query ; and it was tone rather
than words that Hamilton answered.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 77
The sunlight flickered through the foliage
overhead, dancing over her simple muslin gown,
and touching the broad, fair forehead, from
which the little sunbonnet had been pushed in
the heat. Now and again a wren lit on her
shoulder, or hopped upon her arm, with grate-
ful twitterings. Hamilton stood by her side,
his hand still aiding hers to support the weight
of the egg.
Â«To me, as to your servants, Jamaica was
ever the land of slavery,â€ he made answer,
gravely. â€œ While I would willingly have risked
my life, though not my character, to exalt my
station, my fortune condemned me to the
grovelling occupation of a clerk. As I. was
but twelve years of age, I realized that my
youth stood in the way of immediate prefer-
ment, but I determined to prepare the way for
Â« And the time came?â€ questioned Betsey,
Â« The time came at last,â€ assented Hamilton,
with his transfiguring smile. â€œMy relatives
deemed a slight essay from my pen on one of
our tropical hurricanes not unworthy of com-
mendation, and they decided that I should be
78 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID.
given the advantages of an education. Accord-
ingly, I took ship for Boston, and soon after
arrived in New York and entered Kingâ€™s Col-
lege. Fifteen months or less would have
sufficed to carry me through the course, but
the war broke out, and I left my books to offer
my services to the provincial cause.â€
â€œThen you are quite, quite alone?â€ queried
Betsey, with unfeigned interest and sympathy.
â€œMy mother died early, and my father, whom
I never knew, left me to the care of distant
relatives. Asa child, I had but one companion
of my own age.â€
â€œTt is sad to bealone,â€ said Betsey, seriously.
â€œNever did children, I am sure, grow up in
such joyous companionship as we in Albany.
From the time we were five or six years old,
we were divided into little companies of some
twenty boys and girls, who shared with one
another all their games and diversions, all their
joys and sorrowsâ€”if indeed, we then knew
aught of sorrow! We seemed like the mem-
bers of one large family. Indeed, I think there
is scarce a person in Albany who is not called
â€˜cousinâ€™ by every one else, although it may oft
happen that the kinship is somewhat remote or
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 79
Â«â€œT have no cousins of my own,â€ said Hamil-
ton. â€˜Why should not we be cousins? I
should like to be your cousin,â€ he repeated,
â€œJT am sure I should like very well to have
you for my cousin,â€ returned Betsey, simply.
Impetuous in his wooing as over his books,
or in storming a redoubt, Hamilton raised her
hand to his lips.
â€œ You donâ€™t hate me â€” now ?â€â€™ he questioned,
Â« Not now,â€™
In the following spring, Hamilton journeyed
to Albany again, this time upon a mission of a
different character. He and Betsey parted, not
as cousins, but as betrothed lovers; and in
December of the same year, at the little Dutch
church by the river, Betsey Schuyler was mar-
ried to Alexander Hamilton.
COSY CORNER SERIES
CHARMING JUVENILE STORIES
PRICE, FIFTY CENTS EACH
THE FARRIERâ€™S DOG AND HIS FELLOW. By Witt ALLEN
THE PRINCE OF THE PIN ELVES. By Cuarves Lee SLaIcGHT.
A DOG OF FLANDERS. By â€œ Ourpa.â€
THE NURNBERG STOVE. By â€œOurpa.â€
OLE MAMMYâ€™'S TORMENT. By Annie FELLowsS-JOHNSTON.
THE LITTLE COLONEL. By Annigz FELLows-JOHNSTON.
BIG BROTHER. By ANNIE FELLOwS-JOHNSTON.
A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. By Epitu Rosinson.
THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. By Miss Mutocu.
THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE. By Miss Mutocn.
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. By Miss Mutocu.
WEE DOROTHYâ€™S TRUE VALENTINE. By Laura UPDEGRAFF.
LA BELLE NIVERNAISE. The Story of an Old Boat and her
Crew. By ALPpHonsz DAuDET.
A GREAT EMERGENCY. By Juriana Horatia Ewine.
THE TRINITY FLOWER. By Jutiana Horatia Ewinc.
STORY OF A SHORT LIFE. By Jutiana Horatia Ewine.
JACKANAPES. By Juriana Horatia Ewine.
RAB AND HIS FRIENDS. By Dr. foun Brown.
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. A Legend of Stiria. By
THE YOUNG KING. THE STAR CHILD. Two Tales.
Published by L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY
196 Summer Street, Boston
COSY CORNER SERIES
A Series of Short Original Stories, or Reprints of Well-known
Favorites, Sketches of Travel, Essays and Poems.
The books of this series answer a long-felt need for a half-hourâ€™s enter-
taining reading, while in the railway car, during the summer outing in the
country or at the seaside, or by the evening lamp atâ€™ home. They are par-
ticularly adapted for reading aloud, containing nothing but the best from a
literary standpoint, and are unexceptionable in every way. They are printed
from good type, illustrated with original sketches by good artists, and neatly
bound in cloth. The size is a 16mo, not too large for the pocket.
PRICE, FIFTY CENTS EACH
MEMORIES OF THE MANSE. Glimpses of Scottish Life and
Character. By ANNE BREADALBANE.
CHRISTMAS AT THOMPSON HALL. By AntHony TROLLOpE.
A PROVENCE ROSE. By Louisa pz La RAME (Ou1pa).
IN DISTANCE AND IN DREAM. By M. F. Sweetser.
WILL Oâ€™ THE MILL. By Rosert Louts STEVENSON.
THREE CHILDREN OF GALILEE. A Life of Christ for
the Young. By Joun Gorpon. 1vol., 12mo, cloth, illustrated $1.50
Beautifully illustrated with more than one hundred text and full-page
illustrations of Holy Land scenery.
There has long been a need for a Life of Christ for the young, and this
book has been written in answer to this demand. That it will meet with
great favor is beyond question, for parents have recognized that their boys
and girls want something more than a Bible Story, a dry statement of facts,
and that, in order to hold the attention of the youthful readers, a book on
this subject should have life and movement as well as scrupulous accuracy
and religious sentiment.
Published by L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY
196 Summer Street, Boston
Books for Boys and Girls.
A Dog of Flanders.
A Christmas Story. By Louisa DE LA RAME (OUIDA). I vol.,
dquare 12m, cloth, gilt top, $1.25.
} new edition of a beautiful Christmas story already prized as a classic by all who
know it. Contains forty-two original illustrations and a_photo-gelatine repro-
duction of Rubensâ€™s great picture, â€œThe Descent from the Cross.â€
The Nurnberg Stove.
By Louisa DE LA RAME (OuIDA). 1 vol., square 12mo, cloth,
gilt top, $1.25.
Another of Ouidaâ€™s charming stories, delightful alike to old and young. With fifty
original, illustrations and a coior frontispiece of a German stove after the cele-
brated potter, Hirschvogel.
An Archer with Columbus.
By CHARLES E. BrimBLEcoM. With about fifty illustrations
from original pen-and-ink sketches. 1 vol., 16mo, handsome cloth
A capital story of a boy who attracted the attention of Columbus while he was seek-
ing the aid of Ferdinand and Isabella for his great voyage of discovery. The wit
and courage of the boy enabled him to be of service to the great explorer, and he
served as an archer on the vessel of Columbus. His loyalty and devotion, through
vicissitude and danger, endeared him to his master, and the story of his experiences
and exploits will make him a favorite with the boys, young and old. The story is
well told, crisply written, full of reasonable adventure and lively dialogue, without
ie T Dae xe y gue,
a tedious page from beginning to end.
By JuniaTA Satspury. With twenty-five or thirty illustrations
from drawings and pen-and-ink sketches. 1 vol., 16mo, fancy cloth,
The title gives no clue to the character of the book, but the reader who begins the
first chapter will not stop until he has finished the whole. The youthful hero, and
a genuine hero he proves to be, starts from home, loses his way, meets with start-
ling adventures, finds friends, kind and many, grows to be a manly man, and is
able to devote himself to bettering the condition of the poor in the mining region
of Pennsylvania, the scene of his early life and adventures. The book is not of
the goody-goody order; although written with a purpose, and conveying a moral
lesson, this feature is not obtrusive. It is a wholesome and vigorous book that
boys and girls, and parents as well, will read and enjoy.
BÃ©beÃ©: or, Two Little Wooden Shoes.
By Loursa De La RAME (OurpA). With fifty illustrations, and
a photo-gelatine frontispiece from original drawings by Etheldred B.
Barry. 1 vol., square 12mo., cloth, gilt top, $1.25.
A new and dainty edition of Ouidaâ€™s most exquisite and touching story.
Published by L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY,
196 Summer St., Boston, Mass.
Books for Boys and Girls.
The Young Pearl Divers.
A story of Australian adventure by land and sea. By Lizut. H
PHELPS WHITMARSH. Author of â€œThe Mysterious Voyage of the
Daphne,â€ etc. 1 vol., cloth, 12mo, illustrated, $1.25.
This is a splendid story for boys, by an author who writes in vigorous and interest-
ing language of scenes and adventures with which he is personally acquainted.
The book is illustrated with twelve full-page half-tones by H. Burgess, whose
drawings have exactly caught the spirited tone of the narrative.
Feats On The Fiord.
By Harriet MarTINEAU. A tale of Norwegian life, with about
sixty original illustrations and a colored frontispiece. 1 vol., small
quarto, cloth, gilt top, $1.25.
This admirable book, read and enjoyed by so many young peopie a generation ago
and now partially forgotten, deserves to be brought to the attention of parents in
search of wholesome reading for their children to-day. It is something more than a
juvenile book, being really one of the most instructive books about Norway and
Norwegian life and manners ever written, well deserving liberal illustration and
the luxury of good paper now given to it.
The Fairy Folk of Blue Hill.
A story of folk-lore by Lity F. WessELHOEFT, author of
â€œSparrow the Tramp,â€ etc., with fifty-five illustrations from original
drawings by Alfred C. Eastman. 1 vol., 16mo, fancy cloth, $1.25.
A new volume by Mrs. WEsSELHOEFT, well known as one of our best writers for
the young, and who has made a host of friends among the young people who have
read her delightful books. This book ought to interest and appeal to every child
who has read her earlier books.
Miss Grayâ€™s Girls; or, Summer Days in the Scottish
By JEANNETTE A. GRANT. With about sixty illustrations in half-
tone and pen-and-ink sketches of Scottish scenery. 1 vol., smal
quarto, cloth and ornamental side, $1.50.
A pleasantly told story of a summer trip through Scotland, somewhat out of the
beaten track. A teacher, starting at Glasgow, takes a lively party of girls, her
pupils, through the Trossachs to Oban, through the Caledonian Canal to Inver-
ness, and as far north as Brora, missing no part of the matchless scenery and na
place of historic interest. Returning through Perth, Stirling, Edinburgh, Melrose,
and Abbotsford, the emey men of the party and the interest of the reader never
lag. With all the sightseeing, not the least interesting features of the book are
the glimpses of Scottish home life which the party from time to time are fortune â€˜e
enough to be able to enjoy through the kindly hospitality of friends.
Published by L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY,
196 Summer St., Boston, Mass.