“That idea seems simple enough to us now,” said Tom, “but I dare say it was startling when a mere colonist proposed to break off with the mother country.”
“It seems to me it’s about time for Grandfather Emerson to have some poetry on this period of history,” said Ethel Brown. “If he were here, I’m sure he would never have let this Congress sit for eight or nine months without discovering something in poetry about it.”
Helen laughed.
“You certainly understand Grandfather,” she said. “In just about a minute, while we’re going over to Independence Hall, I’m going to read you some verses that belong right in here. On the first of July they began to debate about this proposal that the colonists should be independent. It was a mighty important matter, of course, because if they adopted it, it certainly meant war, and if they did not beat in the war, it might mean a worse state of affairs than they were in at the present moment. So there was much to be said on both sides and it looked as if the vote was going to be very close. Here’s where Rodney the delegate did some hard riding,” and Helen took out one of the type-written sheets, which her grandfather had given her.
“What Colony did he represent?” asked Ethel Blue.
“Rodney was from Delaware,” she returned, “Now listen, while I read you this poem.”
“RODNEY’S RIDE
“In that soft mid-land where the breezes bear
The North and South on the genial air,
Through the county of Kent, on affairs of state,