Sometimes father and son stood beneath the Elm on Main street and Beautiful Bay told True of the meeting there of Generals Washington, Hamilton and Knox, in 1780, when they discussed the Yorktown campaign. The ground under it was trodden hard, as if many others had stood to tell or listen to the story.
One day True heard the tale of the Charter Oak as they passed it on their way for a lounge on Sentinel Hill; and he heard, too, the exciting times accompanying the burning of the State House, in 1783.
Often they passed a queer looking young man; head bent in thought, hands clasped behind his back, at whom people pointed, saying with a shrug of understanding, as if to make allowances for the eccentricities of a scholar.
“There goes No-y Webster!”
Now and again the two horses went over to Mathew Allyn’s mill where the stones turned corn into delicious meal; or they made trips under the saddle up Rocky Hill, where men were hanged from a gibbet over the precipice if they had been wicked—or if men said they had—which came to the same thing in the end.
Certain days each week were called “Market Days,” and farmers came to Hartford to sell their produce. The Meeting House bell called them together and when True was present they often stood near to admire him and invite him to visit their farms. These were very profitable experiences to True and his owner, for there was always plenty of good food and bedding.
It was with no little regret, therefore, that True found one day Master Morgan was making ready to leave, and he must say good-bye to his father and friends in that pleasant town.
Nevertheless, when they set out, and turned their faces northward, he stepped out with a stout heart, remembering his mother’s instruction:
“Duty that we cheerfully do,
Is always quickest through!”