drank with a hearty relish. The work of demolishing the eatables then
went bravely on.

"Mr. Kinnison," said Mr. Colson, "there's one incident concerning that
tea-party that has slipped your memory. As our procession moved from the
wharf and passed the house of the tory Coffin, Admiral Montague raised
the window, and said, 'Ah! boys, you have had a fine evening for your
Indian caper; but mind, you've got to pay the fiddler yet!' Pitts here
shouted, 'Oh! never mind, never mind, squire! Just come out, if you
please, and we'll settle that bill in two minutes!' The people shouted,
and the admiral thought he had better put his head in in a hurry."

"That's true," remarked Kinnison. "Well, you see, my memory is poor.
Pitts would have mentioned it but for his modesty."

"I recollect it well," said Pitts. "If that tory Coffin had shown his
face that night, I wouldn't have given three cents for his life."

"I think I would have had a slash at him," observed Kinnison. "I felt as
savage as a Mohawk on a war-path."

"I don't want to interrupt your eating, Brown and Hanson," said Colson,
"but couldn't you stir us up a little with the drum and fife?"

"Ay," added young Hand, who seemed to be the general mouth-piece of the
younger portion of the company, "give us the air you played when you
marched up from Griffin's Wharf."

"No objection," replied Hanson. "Come, Brown, get out your whistle.
There's a little music left in it yet, I know."