“England is a powerful nation,” said the first man. “Eh, Josiah?”
“Mighty powerful,” agreed the other, “and so is the King and Parliament.”
“If the people of the colonies remain united and if every man does his full duty, the power of England, her King and Parliament, will be as that,” and the boy snapped his fingers. “This circular calls for the towns to encourage the enlistment of men in the colonial army, as you have seen. It tells you that every moment is precious. A day’s delay may mean the loss of all; it may bring slavery upon you.” He was quoting the document.
But the two men shook their heads. Indecision and fear of the situation were plain in their faces.
“We’ve just lately taken this farm,” said the one called Josiah, “and we’ve counted on this season’s yield to help pay for it. We can’t go into the army.”
“If every one thought of his personal affairs,” said Ezra, “our tyrants would crush us into the earth.” The boy had absorbed the resonant talk of the times, and its use had become a habit upon the present mission. “Take, for instance, men like Mr. Hancock, Mr. Adams, Dr. Warren, and a score of others. They risk very large fortunes in the cause; they give every moment of their time to it. They have done so from the first.”
But there was one thing that the men were firm in—their indecision.
“We’d like to join; we’d like to do all we can. But things won’t let us.” The speaker shook his head nervously. “No, things won’t let us.”
“You think that by holding back you’ll save your property, your season’s crop and all that,” spoke Ezra Prentiss. “But I believe you are mistaken. Suppose most of the men and boys of the towns held back as you seem inclined to do? What then?”
“It might be a good thing,” answered Josiah, fearfully.