That evening, when Lettice’s brother William came in, he drew from his pocket a small printed paper in handbill form. “Here, Lettice,” he said, “your friend, Mr. Francis Key, has distinguished himself. It seems he was on board one of the British ships the night of the bombardment—”
“A prisoner?” Lettice interrupted.
“Yes; he went to try to gain the release of Dr. Beanes, of Upper Marlborough, and was detained during the engagement. You can imagine his feelings; uncertain as to the result of the battle, and anxiously waiting through the long night for some sign to relieve his doubts and fears. The occasion, however, has given us a beautiful ode. Mr. Key, after being kept some time on board a British vessel, the Surprise, was at last returned to his own cartel ship, the Minden, and there, on the back of a letter, he wrote the song I have just handed to you.”
“What is it called?” Betty asked.
“The Bombardment of Fort McHenry,” Lettice read from her paper.
“Read it out, Lettice,” said her Cousin Joe, and she began:—
“‘Oh say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hailed by the twilight’s last gleaming?’”
She read it through to the end to a group of attentive listeners.
“Fine! Beautiful! A noble production!” came the comments.