"I don't know," the farmer said. "I should not be surprised if the general wakes up them Germans when the Delaware gets frozen. I heard some talk about it from some men who came past yesterday. Their time was expired, they said, and they were going home. I hear, too, that they are gathering a force down near Mount Holly, and I reckon that they are going to attack Bordentown."
"Is that so?" Peter asked. "In that case we might as well tramp in that direction. It don't matter a corn-shuck to us where we fight, so as it's soon. We've come to help lick these British, and we means to do it."
"Ah!" the farmer said, "I have heard that sentiment a good many times, but I have not seen much come of it yet. So far, it seems to me as the licking has been all the other way."
"That's so," Peter agreed. "But everyone knows that the Americans are just the bravest people on the face of the habitable arth. I reckon their dander's not fairly up yet; but when they begin in arnest you'll see what they'll do."
The farmer gave a grunt which might mean anything. He had no strong sympathies either way, and the conduct of the numerous deserters and disbanded men who had passed through his neighborhood had been far from impressing him favorably.
"I don't pretend to be strong either for the Congress or the king. I don't want to be taxed, but I don't see why the colonists should not pay something toward the expenses of the government; and now that Parliament seems willing to give all we ask for, I don't see what we want to go on fighting for."
"Waal!" Peter exclaimed in a tone of disgust, "you're one of the half-hearted ones."
"I am like the great majority of the people of this country. We are of English stock and we don't want to break with the Old Country; but the affairs have got into the hands of the preachers, and the newspaper men, and the chaps that want to push themselves forward and make their pile out of the war. As I read it, it's just the civil war in England over again. We were all united at the first against what we considered as tyranny on the part of the Parliament, and now we have gone setting up demands which no one dreamed of at first and which most of us object to now, only we have no longer the control of our own affairs."
"The great heart of this country beats for freedom," Peter Lambton said.
"Pooh!" said the farmer contemptuously. "The great heart of the country wants to work its farms and do its business quietly. The English general has made fair offers, which might well be accepted; and as for freedom, there was no tyranny greater than that of the New England States. As long as they managed their own affairs there was neither freedom of speech nor religion. No, sir; what they call freedom was simply the freedom to make everyone else do and think like the majority."