The old fife was soon produced, and the drum also; and moving their
chairs a short distance from the table, the veteran musicians struck up
the stirring air of the old Massachusetts Song of Liberty, once so
popular throughout the colonies, and supposed to have been written by
Mrs. Warren.

"Hurra!" exclaimed Hand, when the musicians had concluded. "Three cheers
for the music and the musicians!" and three cheers were given quite
lustily by the young men, and some of the old ones.

"I have a copy of that Song of Liberty," said Hand. "Here it is, with
the music. I'll sing it and you must all join in the chorus."

"Good!" said Kinnison, and the others echoed him. Hand then sang the
following words, the young men joining in the chorus, and, occasionally,
some of the veterans attempting to do likewise.


Come swallow your bumpers, ye tories, and roar,
That the Sons of fair Freedom are hamper'd once more;
But know that no cut-throats our spirits can tame,
Nor a host of oppressors shall smother the flame.
In freedom we're born, and, like sons of the brave,
Will never surrender,
But swear to defend her,
And scorn to survive, if unable to save.

Our grandsires, bless'd heroes, we'll give them a tear,
Nor sully their honors by stooping to fear;