"'You cowardly rascal,' said he, 'clear out, or I'll stab you with my pitchfork!'
"His mother could endure the scene no longer; she ran to the house, where she met her husband, and sent him to rescue Edmund. Friend Pattison, a sensible, clear-headed man, rode up, and seeing matters at this high pass, said to the Britisher: 'You know your duty; you have no right to lay a finger on him, a non-combatant on neutral ground.' Seeing no signs of relenting, farmer Pattison turned his horse toward the road, saying he would soon see Colonel Wurms, and know who had the power to threaten and abuse the farmers of the country in that style. The light-horseman was now alarmed. Thinking it best to get there first, he put spurs to his horse, riding off with awful imprecations.
"Thus Edmund escaped for this time; though I much fear his defying, fearless spirit may yet cost him dear."
On another page she relates an anecdote of her own son.
"Tuesday.—A press for horses yesterday. I will relate how Charley saved our young horse. He and James Pattison were idly sitting on the fence, the other side of the pond, talking indignantly of the insults of the British, to whom the former shows no mercy, when they espied a light-horsemen at a farm-house door. They knew the next place would be Isaac Willett's, which, though only across the pond, is completely hid from our view by a stately row of poplars, forming a leafy screen; and they knew his errand, too—that he would be here in an instant, for when 'pressing' they galloped from house to house with violent speed.
"'Fleetfoot shall not go,' said Charles, 'without an effort to save him,' and, running with all his might to the barn, he jumped on his back and rode for the woods.
"On the instant he was seen by the red-coat, who put spurs to his horse, and came on a full run toward the woods, where Charles had disappeared. My heart beat quick when the red-coat, too, was lost to sight. My dear, brave child might fall from his horse, and be dashed against the trees in the hot pursuit of the light-horseman.
"My father and I sat gazing intently toward the woods, awaiting the result in breathless anxiety, astonished at the boy's daring, and ready to reprove his rash spirit, in attempting to save the young horse at the risk of his own neck. In about an hour's time we saw the red-coat come out of the woods below. He stopped a man in the road and made inquiries, but getting no satisfaction, rode off.
"At nightfall, peeping his way through the wood, Charles made his appearance, still mounted on his favorite Fleetfoot. By signs we made known to him that the danger was past, and he rode up to the house.
"Overjoyed to see him, he told us his story, which Grace and Marcia drank in with greedy ears. Indeed, the scene on the porch was worthy of Hogarth's pencil. On one side was his poor affrighted mother, and the little girls, with eyes wide open, full of wonder; near by, the venerable grandfather, with silver locks parted on a peaceful brow; and Charley, standing close by his steed, as he recounted his hair-breadth ''scape,' leaning his head occasionally against his proud neck, so that my boy's curls of gold mingle with the ebon mane of Fleetfoot.