old-fashioned even then! It was the abode of Martha Moulton and
"Uncle John." Just who "Uncle John" was, is not now known, but he
was probably Martha Moulton's uncle. The uncle, it appears by
record, was eighty-five years old; while the niece was ONLY
three-score and eleven.

Once and again that morning, a friendly hand had pulled the
latch-string at Martha Moulton's kitchen entrance and offered to
convey herself and treasures away, but, to either proffer, she
had said: "No, I must stay until Uncle John gets the cricks out
of his back, if all the British soldiers in the land march into
town."

At last, came Joe Devins, a lad of fifteen years--Joe's two
astonished eyes peered for a moment into Martha Moulton's
kitchen, and then eyes and owner dashed into the room, to learn,
what the sight he there saw, could mean.

"Whew! Mother Moulton, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting Uncle John his breakfast to be sure, Joe," she
answered. "Have you seen so many sights this morning that you
don't know breakfast, when you see it? Have a care there, for
hot fat WILL burn," as she deftly poured the contents of a pan,
fresh from the fire, into a dish.

Hungry Joe had been astir since the first drum had beat to arms
at two of the clock. He gave one glance at the boiling cream and
the slices of crisp pork swimming in it, as he gasped forth the
words, "Getting breakfast in Concord THIS morning! MOTHER