“Company, halt!� commanded Tommy, in a loud tone. “Parade, rest! Salute! Attention!� And they obeyed.
“What company is this?� said grandpa smilingly.
“We are the minute-men, grandpa,� said Tommy. “We are going out to Concord to keep Flag Day. Our teacher was going to have a celebration to-day, but she is sick, so we have made a procession, and are going to march by her house to show her how we can remember the flag.�
“That’s right,� said grandpa, saluting the flag. “I can do that if my grandfather was what we call a redcoat.�
“Your grandfather a redcoat?� cried all the boys in a breath. “Did he ever tell you anything about it?�
“Oh, yes, he told us about going to America to fight the rebels, and what a lot of British soldiers there were in Boston, who all laughed at the idea of the plain country farmers and workmen being able to fight the king’s own fine troops; and granddad thought so with all the rest, he said. Well, they found out that day that the rebels could fight, after all. Let me see, what day was that, boys?�
“April 19, 1775,� said Tommy, echoed by the others.
“Yes, yes. You have got that learned, haven’t you? Grandfather said that all through that long, hard march from Concord back to Boston they were fighting. They were ashamed to be beaten by those they had made fun of.
“Every stone wall, every large rock or tree seemed to have an American behind it. He said it was wonderful how those farmers could shoot. Dozens of the Englishmen fell and died there in the road. Granddad told us how they struggled on, tired, wounded, thirsty, and almost ready to give up. Finally most of them got back to Charlestown, and were safe. But all day long, and most of the night before, they had had to march.
“And they didn’t do what they went out for, either, for the Americans had carried off the guns and powder they went to destroy. The night before they marched out gaily enough, expecting to have no trouble, and only a trip into the country in the fine spring air.