"Ay, that I do; Mr. Zachariah Hood, come to lick stamps for his
brother-colonists."

"After licking his Majesty's boots," says a wag near by, which brings a
laugh from those about us. I remembered that I had heard some talk as to
how Mr. Hood had sought and obtained from King George the office of Stamp
Distributor for the province. Now, my grandfather, God rest him! was as
doughty an old gentleman as might well be, and would not listen without
protest to remarks which bordered sedition. He had little fear of things
below, and none of a mob.

"My masters," he shouted, with a flourish of his stick, so stoutly that
people fell back from him, "know that ye are met against the law, and
endanger the peace of his Lordship's government."

"Good enough, Mr. Carvel," said Claude, who seemed to be the spokesman.
"But how if we are stamped against law and his Lordship's government?
How then, sir? Your honour well knows we have naught against either,
and are as peaceful a mob as ever assembled."

This brought on a great laugh, and they shouted from all sides, "How
then, Mr. Carvel?" And my grandfather, perceiving that he would lose
dignity by argument, and having done his duty by a protest, was wisely
content with that. They opened wider the lane for him to pass through,
and he made his way, erect and somewhat defiant, to Mr. Pryse's, the
coachmaker opposite, holding me by the hand. The second storey of
Pryse's shop had a little balcony standing out in front, and here we
established ourselves, that we might watch what was going forward.

The crowd below grew strangely silent as the bark came nearer and nearer,