N. You will never forget his kindness, captain.

Capt. Not I, boy! I never feel a twinge of the rheumatiz but what I say, God bless the gin'ral. Now, you see, I hate long stories, or I'd tell you how I gin it to a reg'lar that tried to shoot the gin'ral at Monmouth. You know we were at close quarters, and the gin'ral was right between the two fires.

N. I wonder he was not shot.

I

Capt. Lord bless your ignorant soul, nobody could kill the gin'ral; but, you see, a sneaking reg'lar didn't know this, and so he levelled his musket at him, and, you see, seed what he was arter, and I gin the gin'ral's horse a slap on the haunches, and it beats all natur how he sprung, and the gin'ral all the while as straight as a gun-barrel.

N. And you saved the general's life.

Capt. Didn't I tell you nobody could kill the ginʼral! but you see, his horse was in the wake of my gun, and I wanted to get the start of that cowardly reg'lar.

N. Did you hit him?

Capt. Lord bless your simple soul, does the thunder hit where it strikes! though the fellow made me blink a little, for he carried away part of this ear. See there? [Showing his ear.] Now don't that beat all natur?

N. I think it does. But tell me how it is that you took all these things so calmly? What made you so contented under your privations and hardships?

Capt. Oh, bless your young soul, we got used to it. Besides, you see, the gin'ral never flinched nor grumbled. N. Yes, but you served without being paid.

Capt. So did the gin'ral, and the States, you know, were poor as all natur.

N. But you had families to support.

Capt. Ay, ay, but the gin'ral he always told us that God and our country would take care of them, you see. Now, if I didn't hate long stories, I'd tell you how it turned out just as he said, for he beat all natur for guessing right.

N. Then you feel happy, and satisfied with what you have done for your country, and what she has done for you?

Capt. Why, Lord bless you, if I hadn't left one of my legs at Monmouth, I wouldn't have touched a stiver of the States' money, and as it is, I am so old that I shall not need it long. You must know, I long to see the gin'ral agin, for if he don't hate long stories as bad as I do, I shall tell him all about America, you see, for it beats all natur how things have changed since he left us.

DIALOGUE-THE YANKEE MARKSMAN.

321

Ex. CCXII. DIALOGUE-THE YANKEE MARKSMAN.

WILLIAM BENTLEY FOWLE.

Characters-LORD PERCY, with his regiment, firing at a target on Boston Common. JONATHAN, an awkward-looking country boy, who has outgrown his jacket and trowsers. Time 177-.

Percy. Now, my boys, for a trial of your skill! Imagine the mark to be a Yankee; and here is a guinea for whoever hits his heart.

[Jonathan draws near to see the trial: and when the first soldier fires, and misses, he slaps his hand on his thigh, and laughs immoderately. Lord Percy notices him. When the second soldier fires, and misses, Jonathan throws up his old hat, and laughs again].

Percy [savagely]. "Why do you laugh, fellow?

Jon. To think how safe the Yankees are, if you must know.

Percy. Why, do you think you could shoot better?
Jon. I don't know; I could try.

Percy. Give him a gun, soldier, and you may return the fellow's laugh.

Jon. [Takes the gun and looks at every part of it carefully.] It won't bust, will it? Father's don't shine like this, but I guess it's a better gun.

Percy. Why do you guess so?

Jon. 'Cause I know what that'll deu, and I have some doubts about this 'ere. But look a-here!

You called that

air mark a Yankee, an I won't fire at a Yankee.

Percy. Well, call it a British regular if you please; only fire.

Jon. Well, a reg'lar it is then. Now for freedom, as father says. [Raises the gun and fires.] There, I guess thatair red-coat has got a hole into it! [Turning to soldiers.] Why don't you laugh at me now, as that-air fellow said you might? [pointing to Percy.]

Percy. You awkward fellow, that was an accident. Do you think you could hit the mark again?

Jon. He! I don't know; I could try.

Percy. Give him another gun, soldiers; and take care that the clown does not shoot you. I should not fear to stand before the mark myself.

Jon. I guess you'd better not.

Percy. Why! Do you think you could hit me?
Jon. I don't know; I could try.

Percy. Fire away, then.

[Jonathan fires again and hits the mark.]

Jon. Ha, ha, ha! How father would laugh to see me shooting at half-gunshot!

Percy. Why, you rascal! do you think you could hit the mark at twice that distance?

Jon. He! I don't know; I'm not afeard to try.

Percy. Give him another gun, soldiers, and place the mark farther off.

[Jonathan fires again and hits as before.]

Jon. There, I guess that-air reg'lar is as dead as the pirate that father says the judge hangs till he is dead, dead, dead-three times dead, and that is one more death than Scripture tells on.

Percy. There, fellow, is a guinea for you.

Jon. Is it a good one? [ringing it.]

Percy. Good? Yes. Now begone.

Jon. I should like to stay and see them fellows kill some more Yankees.

Percy [aside]. The fellow is more rogue than fool. [To Jonathan.] Sirrah, what is your name?

Jon. Jonathan.

Percy. Jonathan what?

Jon. Yes, Jonathan Wot. I was named arter father. Percy. Do you think your father can shoot as well as

you can ?

Jon. I don't know, but I guess he wouldn't be afeard to try.

Percy. Where did you learn to shoot?

Jon. Oh, father larnt me, when I wasn't knee high to a woodchuck.

Percy. Why did he teach you so young?

Jon. 'Cause he said I might have to shoot red-coats one of these days.

Percy. Ah! Pray, my boy, can all the farmers in your town shoot as well as you do?

Jon. I guess they can, and better teu.

Percy. Would they like to shoot at red-coats, as you call them?

Jon. I've heerd them say they'd like to try.

Percy. Come, my good fellow, while you are well off,

DIALOGUE-IMPRESSMENT OF AN AMERICAN SEAMAN. 323

you had better join us and fight for your king; for we shall hang every Yankee we catch.

Jon. I guess you won't ketch any.

Percy. Well, we can try, as you say, and since we have caught you, we will hang you for a traitor.

Jon. No you won't. You paid me yourself for killing them three red-coats; so I guess you won't hang me for

that.

Percy. No, my good fellow, I like you too well. I am sorry that my duty to my king obliges me to injure men who show in every thought and action that they are true Englishmen. You may go free; but the next time you see my troops firing at a mark for exercise, you must not be so uncivil as to laugh at them if they miss. What say you? Jon. I don't know whether I can help it.

Percy. Well, you can try, can't you?

Jon. I s'pose I can; for Deacon Simple tried to milk his geese, but his wife didn't make no more butter for his trying, I guess.

Percy. Begone! or I shall have to put you under guard. Officer, give him a pass to Charlestown; but never let him come among our troops again. His example is a bad one.

Ex. CCXIII.-DIALOGUE-IMPRESSMENT OF AN AMERICAN

SEAMAN.

EPES SARGENT.

Characters-CAPT. MARTINET, Lieut. Perley.

Capt. Martinet. Well, Lieutenant, how does the prisoner

bear his sentence?

Lieut. Perley. Stiffly and stubbornly, sir. He sticks to the assertion that he is a Yankee.

Capt. M. Yankee or Yahoo, he will have to swing at the yard-arm for mutiny in striking his commanding officer. The rascal hit me full in the face.

Lieut. P. Will it not be rather awkward, sir, if it should. turn out that he is an American ?

Capt. M. Of course, he is an American; a regular down-easter. You can tell it by his talking through his But what do I care for that?

nose.

Lieut. P.

We are on the verge of a war with the United States; this may help it on. Capt. M. Let it come. What are we to do? We must have seamen. The law tells us we may take them by impressment. The Yankee ships are manned more than half by British seamen. We must board the Yankee ships to get the men we want. If, now and then, we impress a Yankee instead of a British subject, is that any reason why we should suffer the Yankee to break the first law of the service and strike his commander? No! Get ready the yard-arm, Lieutenant. The fellow must swing for it.

Lieut. P.

ready.

Capt. M.

Ay, ay, sir. I will see that everything is

Send the prisoner to me.

Lieut. P.

Ay, ay, sir.

Capt. M.

[Exit.]

British subject or not, he put his dirty fist in my face. He has been tried by a court-martial and convict ed, and it shall not be my fault if he is not punished.

[Enter HIRAM, with his arms pinioned.]

Hiram. I was told you wished to see me.

Capt. M. Well, prisoner, what have you to say for yourself? You have had a fair trial, and been convicted of mutiny. The penalty is death by hanging at the yard-arm. The ceremony is fixed for this afternoon. Have you any objection to make?

Hiram. Objection? Yes, the objection that the murderer's victim makes to the murderer's blow. You know in your heart it will be murder.

Capt. M. What do you mean?

Hiram. I mean that I am not a British subject, and you know it. What right had you to take me out of an American vessel ?

Capt. M. The right that British law and British power give us to seize and impress a British seaman wherever we can find one, on the high seas or elsewhere.

Hiram. But I am not a British seaman. I am a nativeborn American. Defend your claim to touch me, if you can.

Capt. M. We find we can not distinguish between English and Americans. If we took the word of every sailor who claims to be an American, we couldn't get enough for our ships. So it is a case of necessity, you see. Your true way was to keep quiet, and not turn mutineer.

Hiram. What if you were seized by an American pressgang, and placed on board an American ship; and what if,