



Produced by Annie R. McGuire








[Illustration: HARPER'S ROUND TABLE]

Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All Rights Reserved.

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PUBLISHED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, TUESDAY, MARCH 17, 1896. FIVE CENTS A COPY.

VOL. XVII.--NO. 855. TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.

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[Illustration]




A BOY OF 1775.

BY MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL.


Can you not see the boy of 1775 now--his sturdy legs encased in stout
black stockings, german-silver buckles to his knee-breeches, his hair
plaited and tied with a smart black ribbon, and all this magnificence
topped by three real silver buttons with which his hat is rakishly
cocked? But the boy himself is better worth looking at than all his
finery--so thought Captain Moore, of his Majesty's ship _Margaretta_,
lying at anchor in the harbor of Machias. Jack Leverett was the boy's
name--a handsome stripling of sixteen, with a quiet manner but a
fearless eye.

The two were sitting opposite each other at the cabin table, and through
the open port they could see the village and the harbor, bathed in the
bright white light of a day in May. The Captain was conscious that this
young guest was decidedly in a hurry to leave. A whole hour had they sat
at the dinner table, Captain Moore, with the utmost art, trying to find
out Jack's errand to Machias--for those were the stirring days when
every American had to take his stand for or against King George--and
Captain Moore particularly desired to know how Squire Leverett, Jack's
father, stood toward the King. But Jack, with native mother-wit, had
managed to baffle the Captain. He had readily admitted that he was the
bearer of a letter from his father to Jerry O'Brien, master of Squire
Leverett's sloop _Priscilla_, in regard to heaving down the sloop. But
the Captain, with a seaman's eye, had noted that the _Priscilla_ was in
perfect order and did not need to be hove down, and he more than
suspected that Jack was the bearer of other and more important news.
Through the cabin windows they could see the sloop, a beautiful craft,
being warped into her dock, while across the blue water was wafted
sweetly the voices of the men, led by the shanty man,[1] singing the old
shanty song:

  "Haul the bowline, our jolly ship's a-rolling,
    Haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!
  Haul the bowline, our jolly mate's a-growling,
    Haul the bowline, the bowline _haul_!"

[1] "Shanty man"--from "Chantez"--a man who could lead the singing while
the men worked. A good shanty man was considered to be a valuable
acquisition to a vessel.

As soon as Jack decently could, he started to rise from the table.
Captain Moore had observed that the glass of wine at Jack's plate
remained untasted, and it suggested a means of finding out whether the
Leveretts meant to go with the King or not.

"Do not go," he said, "until you have joined me in drinking the health
of his Majesty King George."

Jack had no notion whatever of drinking the King's health, but he was at
his wits' end how to avoid it. Just then, though, the Captain turned to
speak to his orderly, and Jack took the opportunity of gulping down his
wine with more haste than elegance. Captain Moore, seeing it, was
surprised and disgusted at the boy's apparent greediness for wine, but
raising his glass, said, "To the King."

"Excuse me, sir," answered Jack, coolly, "but my father never allows me
to drink but one glass of wine, and that I have already had."

"Then I will drink the toast alone," said Captain Moore, with a stern
look at the boy. "Here is to his Majesty King George. Health and long
life to him! God save the King!"

As Captain Moore uttered this sentiment Jack rose and promptly put on
his hat. The Captain was quite sure that the boy's action, like his
gulping down the wine, meant a distaste for the King, and not a want of
breeding. But he thought it best not to notice the incident, and said,
civilly, to his young guest:

"Present my compliments to your honored father, and tell him that his
Majesty's officers have the kindest feelings toward these misguided
people; and while if attacked we will certainly defend ourselves, we
have strict orders to avoid a conflict if possible, and not to fire
until fired upon."

"I will remember your message, sir," was Jack's answer; and the Captain,
having no further excuse for detaining his young guest, allowed him to
depart.

He was soon alongside of the _Priscilla_, and there, standing at the
gangway, was the sloop's master, Jerry O'Brien. Jerry, by an accident of
fate, had inherited an Irish name, but he was as arrant a Yankee as ever
stepped. He was a handsome fellow withal, and in his natty blue suit
much more resembled the Captain of an armed cruiser than the master of a
smart merchant vessel. The _Priscilla_, too, was a wonderful contrast to
the slovenly merchantmen around her. She was as clean as hands could
make her, and her beautiful lines were brought out by the shining coat
of black paint upon her hull. Her men were smart and seamanlike. Jerry
O'Brien was the most exacting ship-master on that coast, but he never
had any trouble in shipping men, for, while making them do their work
with the quickness and steadiness of man-o'-war's men, he used neither
blows nor curses. A natural leader of men, he made himself respected
first, and after that it is always easy to command obedience.

As soon as Jack Leverett came over the side Jerry took him to the cabin.
Jack produced a letter, and by the heat from a ship's lantern some
writing in lemon juice was deciphered. It contained a full account of
the affairs at Lexington and Concord, of which only vague rumors had
reached Machias. At every sentence descriptive of American valor Jerry
would give a half-suppressed whoop, and at the end he could not forbear
letting out a huzza that made the little cabin ring.

"Suppose," said Jack, who had hard work to keep from hurrahing wildly,
"instead of making a noise, we should invent a scheme to capture the
_Margaretta_. If the farmers around Boston could, with hay-forks and
blunderbusses, beat off the British regulars, the sailors and fishermen
about here ought to be able to get alongside the _Margaretta_ and take
her."

Jerry's mouth was large, and it came open like a rat-trap at this bold
proposition. After a pause he spoke. "Boy," said he, "the enterprise
shall be tried; and if we succeed, you shall be prize-master of the
_Margaretta_."

Jack's heart leaped at these words. He was an admirable sailor, like
most of the hardy youngsters on the coast, and had more than once taken
the _Priscilla_ on short trips. But his mother and the Squire meant him
to be something else than a merchant Captain, and kept him under a tutor
when he would much rather have been sailing blue water. For hours Jack
and Jerry sat in the cabin talking over their scheme. Jerry knew that
the people of Machias were heart and soul with the cause of freedom, and
could be depended upon in any desperate adventure. The _Margaretta_
carried four brass guns and a number of swivels; but, as Jerry shrewdly
said, if once the _Priscilla_ could grapple with her, it would be a
battle of men and musketry, not of guns. At nightfall Jack and Jerry
went ashore. A great vivid moon hung in the sky, and they could see the
_Margaretta_