On a long-framed wagon drawn by two truck horses lay a fine boat gayly painted in red, white and blue stripes. The ladies, Mrs. Parke and Mrs. Davis, walked behind the wagon as it slowly went down a side road that led over the bridge.
But the army did not remain long in a paralyzed state. Before the teamster had covered more than five yards of the side road crossing the creek British and American officers and men yelled and ran up to tug at the two ladies, demanding to know how the boat happened to be there.
So loud was the clamor that no one heard what any one else said, and the driver reached the creek, where many hands were eager to assist him in lifting the wonderful craft from the wagon to the creek.
“No, I sent for the gardener and chauffeur to help this man. He is responsible for the safe delivery of the boat, and it is not fair to him to risk its safety by letting excited boys help carry it from the wagon,” said Mrs. Davis firmly.
The two men soon arrived and helped transfer the boat to the water, where it rode gracefully on the slow surface of the stream. The teamster and the help went away, but the army was not aware of their going—all eyes were fixed on the boat.
Mrs. Parke told the children that it was a gift from aunty, so that they could play American history with a warship better than without any.
“Who can row? Can you, Jack?” asked George.
“No, but it’s easy. You just pull back and forth on the upper end of the oar and away she goes,” said Jack.
“Well, please take off the general’s uniform before you begin practice. A bathing suit would be better to wear while you are learning,” laughed Mrs. Parke.
“Why, we won’t fall out,” said Anne.