to stay at home, where we wrote and corrected our sketches. The landlord was very attentive to us, and on our asking what he could give us for breakfast, he told us tea or any thing else we chose—that was an open confession, what he was; but for fear he might be imprudent, we did not tell him who we were, tho' we were certain he knew it. In the evening we went round the town and on all the hills that command it, sketched every thing we desired, and returned to the town without being seen. That evening about eight o'clock the landlord came in and told us there were two gentlemen who wanted to speak with us; we asked him who they were? on which he said we wou'd be safe in their company; we said we did not doubt that, as we hoped that two gentlemen who travelled merely to see the country and stretch our limbs, as we had lately come from tea, could not meet with any thing else but civility, when we behaved ourselves properly; he told us he would come in again in a little time, and perhaps we wou'd change our minds, and then left us;—an hour after he returned, and told us the gentlemen were gone, but had begged him to let us know, as they knew as to be officers of the army, that all their friends of government at Petersham were disarmed by the rebels, and that they threatened to do the same at Worcester in a very little time; he sat and talked politicks, and drank a bottle of wine with us—and also told us that none but a few friends to government knew we were in town; we said it was very indifferent to us whether they did or not, tho' we thought very differently; however, as we imagined we had staid long enough in that town, we resolved to set off at day-break the next morning and get to Framingham; accordingly off we set, after getting some roast beef and brandy from our landlord, which was very necessary on a long march, and prevented us going into houses where perhaps they might be too inquisitive; we took a road we had not come, and that led us to the pass four miles from Worcester; we went on unobserved by any one until we passed Shrewsbury, where we were overtaken by a horseman who examined us very attentively, and especially me, whom he looked at from head to foot as if he wanted to know me again; after he had taken his observations he rode off pretty hard and took the Marlborough road, but by good luck we took the Framingham road again to be more perfect in it, as we thought it would be the one made use of. We arrived at Buckminster's tavern about six o'clock that evening, the company of militia were exercising near the house, and an hour after they came and performed their feats before the windows of the room we were in; we did not feel very easy at seeing such a number so very near us; however, they did not know who we were, and took little or no notice of us—After they had done their exercise, one of their commanders spoke a very eloquent speech, recommending patience, coolness and bravery, (which indeed they much wanted) particularly told them they would always conquer if they did not break, and recommended them to charge us cooly, and wait for our fire, and every thing would succeed with them—quotes Cæsar and Pompey, brigadiers Putnam and Ward, and all such great men; put them in mind of Cape-Breton, and all the battles they had gained for his majesty in the last war, and observed that the regulars must have been ruined but for them.—After so learned and spirited an harangue, he dismissed the parade, and the whole company came into the house and drank until nine o'clock, and then returned to their respective homes full of pot-valour. We slept there that night and no-body in the house suspected us. Next morning we set off for Weston, had a very agreeable day, having fine weather and a beautiful country to travel through; we met nothing extraordinary on the road, no-body knew us, and we were asked very few questions: On our arrival at Mr. Jones's we met with a very welcome reception, he being our