“Here,” returned Mr. Hopkins, indicating the party of sunburnt young men before them. “Think you, sir, that we shall endure the heel of England upon our necks? You may be willing meekly to accept her abuse for the sake of the profit that will accrue from swallowing her insults, but we of the South are of a different mould.”
“Your John Randolph is not so eager to voice your cry of free trade and sailor’s rights.”
“But our Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun do voice it.”
“Politics! Politics!” cried Lettice. “Just a short rest from them, Uncle Tom. Will you and Mr. Kendall partake of some refreshments, and leave politics till another time? It seems to me that you will find it vastly more agreeable to discuss a devilled crab. Uncle Tom, did you bring me any message from my father?”
“His love, and he will see you before we are ordered off.”
“Ordered off! Oh, Uncle Tom, you are really going to join the troops?”
“Yes.”
“What is the news from Canada, father?” Rhoda asked.
“What might have been expected,” he returned; “Hull has surrendered.”
“Oh, do you mean General William Hull?”