“What are they?”
“Why, little square baskets, with partings in them, and covered with leather, to put the doctors’ things in. They are so light that a man can carry them on his back just like a knapsack.
“My father set out from home, to go to the government workshop, long before daylight, that the press-gang might not see him; he had about four miles to go. If he could only get there, and put his name on the roll, he would be safe, as then he would have a passport given him to go and come, and the press couldn’t touch him. He could make better wages working at home, but my mother persuaded him to work for less wages, for the sake of being safe.
“The blood-seller knew all about this, and told the press-gang. He was in sight of the workshop, and hurrying on with all his might, when four men jumped out from a hedge and seized him,—one of whom put his hand on his shoulder, and told him he must go and serve in the navy during his majesty’s pleasure. Before daylight he was out of sight and hearing of everybody that knew him.”
“Poor man,” said Sally, “when he was almost in safety.”
“But how did you know what had become of him?” said Joe.
“He was going to board with his cousin, and come home Saturday nights. They looked for him till the middle of the week, and, when he didn’t come, his cousin came over to our house, and said to mother, ‘Where is John? I thought he was going to work for the army.’
“‘He went from here at three o’clock last Monday morning.’
“‘He has not been at our house, nor at the workshop, for I have been to see.’
“‘Not been at your house! Why, he told me he was going to enter his name on the roll, and be mustered in, and get his protection, and then go to your house to dinner.’