Mustering all the confidence I could command, I boldly answered, “William Harper, sir.”
“What part of America do you belong to, my boy?”
“Philadelphia, sir.”
Here one of the officers smiled and remarked, “Ah, a townsman.” I trembled at hearing this, inwardly hoping that they would ask me no more questions. To my increased alarm, however, he continued by asking, “What street in Philadelphia?”
“Pine street, sir,” said I, with the air of a man who feels himself drawn toward a crisis he cannot escape.
“What street joins Pine street, my lad?” asked my tormentor, with a knowing laugh.
This was a poser; for further than this my instructions had not proceeded. However, I rallied the little confidence which remained, and said, “I don’t remember, sir.”
The officer who had claimed me as a townsman, mentioned the next street, and my examiner went on by asking me what street joined the one mentioned by the officer.
My colors, which had fallen to half-mast before, were now fairly struck. I had to surrender at discretion; but thinking to get off with the honors of war, I answered, “Gentlemen, it is so long since I was in Philadelphia, I have forgotten all about it.”