“There, you Pharisee, take that,” and here he applied his cane to the good Quaker’s hat, “and that, and that, and THAT!”
The Quaker strode away, and would need a new hat when next he went abroad on the highway of the orchards and gardens.
General Prescott, while at Newport, desired to have a sidewalk in front of his house, so he ordered all of his neighbors’ door-stones to be removed for the purpose.
He was a petty tyrant, and he liked nothing so much as to make the people—“rebels,” as he called them—feel his power. He would order any one whom he disliked to be sent to the military prison without assigning any reason.
He once sent a greatly respected citizen to prison and forbade that the latter should have any verbal communication with his friends or family. The wife of the prisoner used to send him notes in loaves of bread.
One day she appeared before Prescott, and desired him to allow her to make one visit to her husband.
“Who do you think I am?” said the General, or words in this spirit. “Instead of allowing you to visit him, I will have him hanged before the end of the week.”
Under the petty tyranny of Prescott no one seemed safe on the island.
The stories of Prescott’s insults to worthy people roused the spirit of Dennis.
“An’ sure it is, now,” he said to the Governor, “if I were to meet that big-feeling Britisher, I would make him take off his own hat. Look at me now.”