part of our gallant army was engaged with unequal numbers? Could you calmly behold your fellow citizens falling on all sides, and not avenge their death? Could you, with arms in your hands, the enemy in view, with the roar of cannon thundering on your ear, and the flag of your country waving amidst fire and smoke—could you find a moment to think of constitutions? Was that a time to pause and suffer coward scruples to unnerve the arm of freemen?

Jerry. Bravo! bravo! sergeant Jasper; that's a very fine speech—I'll vote for you for our assemblyman; now just go that over again, that I may get it by heart for our next town meeting—blazing flags—fiery cannon—smoking constitutions—

Jasper. I pray you pardon me. I am an old soldier, and fought for the liberty which you enjoy, and, therefore, claim some privilege in expressing my opinion. But come, your friends are idle, let us have breakfast before our cottage door.—Ah, Jerry, my Crissy would make a fine soldier's wife: do you know that I have given her a military education?

Jerry. No, surely—

Jasper. Aye, she can crack a bottle at twelve paces with a pistol.

Jerry. Crack a bottle! Come, that's a good one; I can crack a bottle too, but not so far off.

Jasper. And then she can bring down a buck, at any distance.

Jerry. Bring down a buck? I don't like that—can't say as how I like my wife to meddle with bucks. Can she milk—knit garters—make apple butter and maple sugar—dance a reel after midnight, and ride behind her husband on a pony, to see the trainings of our sogers—that's the wife for my money. Oh, here she comes.

Enter Christine and Lenox from the cottage.

Jasper. Christine, here is farmer Mayflower and his friends, who have come to visit our cottage, and you in particular.

Christine. They are all welcome. Good morning, Jerry—how is it with you?

Jerry. Purely, Miss Crissy, I'm stout and hearty, and you look as pretty and as rosy as a field of pinks on a sunshiny morning.

Jasper. Come here, farmer—give me your hand—Christine, yours—[Joins them.]—there; may you live long and happy, and my blessings ever go with you.

Christine. [Aside in amazement.] Heavens! what can this mean? [Lenox is agitated—pause—Jasper and group retire—Lenox remains at a distance.]

Jerry. Why, Miss Crissy, your father has consented that I shall marry you, and I've come with my neighbours to have a little frolic, and carry you home with me.

Christine. And am I of so little moment as not to be consulted? Am I thus to be given away by my father without one anxious question? [With decision.] Farmer, pardon my frankness; on this occasion, sincerity alone is required—I do not like you, I will not marry you—nay, do not look surprised. I am a stranger to falsehood and dissimulation, and thus end at once all hopes of ever becoming my husband.

Jerry. Why, now, Miss Crissy, that's very cruel of you—I always had a sneaking kindness for you, and when your father gave his consent, I didn't dream as how you could refuse me.

Christine. My father has ever found me dutiful and obedient, but when he bestows my hand, without knowing whether my heart or inclinations accompany it, I feel myself bound to consult my own happiness. I cannot marry you, farmer.

Lenox. [Advancing.] All things are prepared, and I am now about to depart. Christine, farewell! Friends, good fortune await you! [Aside.] Dear Christine, remember me.

[Exit hastily.

Jerry. Lack-a-daisy! What a disappointment to me, when I had put my house in such nice order—painted my walls—got a new chest upon chest—two new bed quilts, and a pair of pumps, and had the pig-sty and dairy whitewashed.—Hang me, after all, I believe, she is only a little shy. Oh, I see it now, she only wants a little coaxing—a little sparking or so—I've a great mind to kiss her. I will, too.

[Approaches Christine, who stands at a distance, buried in deep thought.

Christine. Begone—dare not touch me! Heavens, am I reserved for this humiliation? Could my father be so cruel?

Jerry. Now, Crissy, don't be so shy—you know you like me—you know you said t' other day, when I were out training, that I held up my head more like a soger than anybody in the ranks; come now, let's make up; you'll always find me a dutiful husband, and if I ever flog you, then my name's not Jerry.

Enter Jasper from the cottage, with a basket; Peasants following with fruit.

Jasper. Come, let us have breakfast in the open air—help me to arrange the table.

Jerry. Breakfast! Oh, true, I've a powerful appetite.

[Assists.

Christine. [Aside.] What is to be done? I have not a moment to lose; my father is stern and unyielding—I know his temper too well, to hope that my entreaties will prevail with him—the farmer is rich, and gold is a powerful tempter. I must be gone—follow Lenox, and in disguise, to avoid this hateful match. I'll in, whilst unobserved.

[Enters the cottage.

Jasper. Come, sit down, farmer and neighbours; and you, my pretty lads and lasses, let's have a dance. Ah, here is a foraging party.

[Enter Soldiers.

Party dance—several pastoral and fancy dances—and as the whole company retires, Christine comes from the cottage with cautious steps—she is dressed in a frock coat, pantaloons and hat.

Christine. They are gone—now to escape. Scenes of my infancy—of many a happy hour, farewell! Oh, farewell, forever!

[Exit.

Jasper and Jerry return.

Jerry. She refused me plumply.

Jasper. Impossible!

Jerry. No, it's quite possible. Farmer, said she, I will not marry you—and hang me if there's any joke in that.

Jasper. Refuse an honest man? A wealthy one, too? And one whom her father gives to her? Trifling girl! Insensible to her happiness and interest. What objections had she to you, farmer?

Jerry. Objections! Oh, none in the world, only she wouldn't marry me; she didn't seem