When she saw her husband she groaned feebly.
“Have they gone?” she whispered.
“Yes,” replied Jones, with becoming seriousness.
Mistress Jones rose heavily, and squeezed the water from her skirts, shaking, humble and sobered.
“It served me right, husband dear,” she wailed at last. “I have ever been what those savages called me, ‘a dirty blouze of a thing,’ but from now on I am a changed woman and will be a better wife to you. The Indians said they would teach me a lesson—and they have!”
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MORGAN GOES TO MONTPELIER TO LIVE.
Sometimes Justin Morgan rode his horse to Williston to visit his friend, the Hon. Lemuel Bottom, who was a lover of good horses; sometimes they went to Hinesburgh, a short distance from Burlington. They were constantly on the go from one town to another, meeting new people and horses and having fresh experiences.
Hinesburgh was a quiet little village, and, although there were two saw-mills, they did not have “bees” as they did at Randolph; the scenery was beautiful, and the bedding so good that Morgan enjoyed his trips in spite of the lack of excitement which he had grown to love at Chase’s Mill.
His first military experience was when he took his place under an empty saddle in the procession that conducted the body of Col. Israel Converse to his grave. Colonel Converse had been a brave soldier and greatly beloved by his townspeople; over his open grave Morgan heard for the first time a military salute and smelled the acrid odor of gunpowder. For a long time he was thrilled by the memory.