Laura Secord, the heroine of 1812 Part 3

_Mary_. Were wis.h.i.+ng aught Soon should another sword strike for the King, And those dear rights now rudely overlooked.

_Mrs. Secord_. My child?

_Mary_. Oh naught, mamma, save the old tale: no nook That's not invaded, even one's books Borrowed without one's leave. I hate it all!

_Mrs. Secord_. We must be patient, dear, it cannot last.

_Harriet_. Oh, if we girls were boys, or Charles a man!

_Mrs. Secord_. Poor baby Charles! See, he's asleep; and now, Dear girls, seeing we cannot fight, we'll pray That peace may come again, for strife and blood, Though wisely spent, are taxes hard to pay.

But come, 'tis late! See Charlie's dropt asleep; Sing first your evening hymn, and then to bed.

I'll lay the darling down.

_Exit_ MRS. SECORD, _with the child in her arms_.

_Charlotte_. You start it, Mary.

_Children sing_--

HYMN.

Softly as falls the evening shade, On our bowed heads Thy hands be laid; Surely as fades the parting light, Our sleep be safe and sweet to-night Calmly, securely, may we rest, As on a tender father's breast.

Let War's black pinions soar away, And dove-like Peace resume her sway, Our King, our country, be Thy care, Nor ever fail of childhood's prayer.

Calmly, securely, may we rest As on a tender father's breast.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE 2.--_The same place and the same hour_.

_Enter_ MRS. SECORD.

After a weary day the evening falls With gentle benison of peace and rest.

The deep'ning dusk draws, like a curtain, round, And gives the soul a twilight of its own; A soft, sweet time, full of refres.h.i.+ng dews, And subtle essences of memory And reflection. O gentle peace, when--

_Enter_ PETE, _putting his head in at the door_.

_Pete_. O, mistis! Heh, mistis!

_Mrs. Secord_. What now, Pete?

_Pete_. Oh, mistis, dat yar sergeant ossifer-- Dat sa.s.sy un what call me "Woolly-bear."

An' kick my s.h.i.+n, he holler 'cra.s.s to me:-- "You, Pete, jes' you go in, an' tell Ma'am Secord I'se comin' in ter supper wiv some frens."

He did jes' so--a sa.s.sy scamp.

_Mrs. Secord_. To-night? At this hour?

_Pete_. Yes, mistis; jes', jes' now. I done tell Flos Ter put her bes' leg fus', fer I mus' go An' ten' dat poo', sick hoss.

_Mrs. Secord_. Nay, you'll do nothing of the kind! You'll stay And wait upon these men. I'll not have Flos Left single-handed by your cowardice.

_Pete_. I aint a coward-ef I hed a club; Dat poo', sick hoss--

_Mrs. Secord_. Nonsense! Go call me Flos, and see you play no tricks to-night.

_Pete_. No, mistis, no; no tricks. [_Aside_. Ef I'd a club!]

_He calls from the door_: Flos! Flos! Ma'am Secord wants ye.

_Mrs. Secord (spreading a cloth upon the table)_. G.o.d help us if these men much longer live Upon our failing stores.

_Enter_ FLOS.

What have you got to feed these fellows, Flos?

_Flos_. De mistis knows it aint much, pas' noo bread, An' two--three pies. I've sot some bacon sisslin', An' put some taties on when Pete done tole me.

_Pete_. Give 'em de cider, mistis, an' some beer, And let 'em drink 'em drunk till mas'r come An' tell me kick 'em out.

_Flos_. You!--jes' hol' yer sa.s.sy tongue.

[_Footsteps are heard without_.

_Pete_. Dat's um. Dey's comin'. Dat poo', sick hoss--

[_He makes for the door_.

_Mrs. Secord_. You, Pete, come back and lay this cloth, And wait at table properly with Flos.

_Enter a_ Sergeant, _a_ Corporal _and four_ Privates.

_Sergeant (striking Pete on the head with his cane)_. That's for your ugly phiz and impudence.

[_Exit Pete, howling_.

(_To Mrs. Secord_.) Your slaves are saucy, Mistress Secord.

_Mrs. Secord_. Well, sir!

_Sergeant_. None of my business, eh? Well, 'tis sometimes, You see. You got my message: what's to eat?

_Mrs. Secord_. My children's food, sir. This nor post-house is, Nor inn, to take your orders.