"With cannons and guns," seconded the boys.
So Tabitha obligingly recited the thrilling lines:
"'Up from the South at break of day,
Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay,
The affrighted air with a shudder bore,
Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door,
The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar,
Telling the battle was on once more,
And Sheridan twenty miles away.'"
And her thoughts flew back to that black day in the dingy old town hall, when she had declaimed those very lines, and of the dire punishment which had overtaken her; but the sting of it was all gone now, and she found herself smiling at the recollection of that fateful encore. Everything was so different these days. She could afford to forget the old heartaches and longings in the happiness which had come to her during the past year.
"'Here is the steed that saved the day
By carrying Sheridan into the fight,
From Winchester, twenty miles away!'"
she finished; and before the enthusiastic audience realized that the recitation was ended, she began Horatius at the Bridge. Then followed in quick succession all the thrilling wartime pieces at her tongue's command, while the delighted children held their breath in wondering admiration.
Breathless at length, she paused, and surveying the circle of faces about her, said whimsically, "That's a plenty, I reckon. My throat is as dry as the desert!"
"Just one more!" they pleaded eagerly.
"But I have spoken all I can think of now with guns and cannons in them."
"Then give us a different kind," wheedled Irene, in her most persuasive tones.