chanced that the night was Allhallowe'en, when the old tales say
that the witches and fairies and imps are abroad and busy. Were
any of them busy that night with Connecticut's charter?

"Two men in the room, John Talcott and Nathaniel Stanley, took
the charter when the lights were out." So said Governor Roger
Wolcott long afterward. He was a boy nine years old at the time
and had often heard the story. But these two men never left the
room; they were members of the Assembly; they could not carry off
the charter. However, Major Talcott had a son-in-law, Joseph
Wadsworth, and he was waiting outside,--so says another story.
Wadsworth was young and daring. The charter was passed out to him
and he hid it under his cloak and made his way swiftly through
the crowd that had gathered around the tavern and through the
dim, deserted streets beyond, to where an old oak tree grew in
front of the Wyllys house. This tree had a hollow in its trunk
and Wadsworth slipped the charter into this safe hiding-place and
left it there. Houses might be searched, but no one would think
of looking for a missing paper in the hidden heart of a hollow
oak. And because the old tree proved a good guardian and gave
shelter in a time of trouble to Connecticut's charter it was
known and honored later as the Charter Oak.

[Illustration: WADSWORTH HIDING THE CHARTER
From a bas-relief on the State Capitol, Hartford, Conn.]

We are not told what was said or done in the court chamber after
the charter disappeared. The stories of that night are full of
mystery and contradiction. Perhaps, after all, no very serious
search was made for it. Perhaps its loss brought about a