At first Amos and Ann stood a little in awe of the old man in the July house; but he looked so jolly and friendly, and J. M. seemed to know him so well, that they were soon set at ease.
Little Ann made bold to ask him a question. “Do you remember the American Revolution?” she said.
“My sakes alive, Ann!” cried Amos, a good deal embarrassed.
But the old man did not seem at all offended. “Well,” he answered slowly, “I can tell you this much about it:
“The little boys of ’76—
They did their chores and swam and fished,
And hunted hares and whittled sticks,
While all the time they wished and wished
To hear a sudden summons come,
Each waiting day, each listening night:
‘We need the boys for flag and drum,
So send them to the fight!’
“The little girls of ’76—
They rocked their dollies to and fro,
And taught the kittens pretty tricks,
And heard their mothers talking low;
Then climbed into the hayloft high,
They peered through every glimmering crack,
And longed to raise a joyful cry:
‘The men are marching back!’”
Amos was inclined to think that maybe Ann’s question hadn’t been such a foolish one, after all.
“Perhaps,” he ventured, “you knew my great-great-great-grandfather. Can you tell me anything about him, sir?”
“I can tell you this,” the old man said:—
“Your great-great-great-grandfather
Was a little chap like you,
When suddenly one summer
Bugles of battle blew,
And bells rang in the towers,
And flags at windows flew.