The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made
Of rebel staves and hoops, Sir,
Could not oppose their pow'rful foes,
The conq'ering British troops, Sir.
From morn to night these men of might
Display'd amazing courage;
And when the sun was fairly down,
Retired to sup their porridge.
A hundred men, with each a pen,
Or more, upon my word, Sir,
It is most true, would be too few,
Their valor to record, Sir.
Such feats did they perform that day
Against these wicked kegs, Sir,
That years to come, if they get home,
They'll make their boasts and brags, Sir.
Francis Hopkinson.
Another pleasant story of the same period, which also has its foundation in fact, is told by Mr. Carleton in "The Little Black-Eyed Rebel." The heroine's name was Mary Redmond, and she succeeded more than once in helping to smuggle through letters from soldiers in the Continental army to their wives in Philadelphia.
THE LITTLE BLACK-EYED REBEL[5]
A boy drove into the city, his wagon loaded down
With food to feed the people of the British-governed town;
And the little black-eyed rebel, so innocent and sly,
Was watching for his coming from the corner of her eye.
His face looked broad and honest, his hands were brown and tough,
The clothes he wore upon him were homespun, coarse, and rough;
But one there was who watched him, who long time lingered nigh,
And cast at him sweet glances from the corner of her eye.
He drove up to the market, he waited in the line;
His apples and potatoes were fresh and fair and fine;
But long and long he waited, and no one came to buy,
Save the black-eyed rebel, watching from the corner of her eye.