childhood and the graves of my parents for an unknown wilderness.
Much were we tossed about by sea and land. Our ship was wrecked
and its passengers strewn like seaweed on the Nova Scotia coast--
some living and some dead--and at last, after months of travel and
privation, on foot, in ox carts and in Durham boats, we found our
way, I and a few neighbours, to this spot, to hew out new homes in
the forest and keep our oath of allegiance to our King."

The old U. E. Loyalist always grew eloquent as he referred to his
exile for conscience' sake and to the planting by the conscript
fathers of Canada of a new Troy under the aegis of British power.

"_I_ came of regular Yankee stock," said Mr. Trueman. "My
mother was a Neville--one of the Nevilles of Boston. She heard
Jesse Lee's first sermon on Boston Common, and joined the first
Methodist society in the old Bay State. My father was one of Ethan
Allen's Green Mountain Boys, and assisted at the capture of
Ticonderoga. He was also a volunteer at Bunker Hill. It was then
he met my mother, being billeted at her father's house."

"You have rebel blood in you and no mistake," said the Squire.

"I believe the colonists were right in resisting oppression in
'76," continued Neville; "but I believe they are wrong in invading
Canada now, and I wash my hands of all share in their crime."

"We will not quarrel about the old war," said the veteran
loyalist. "The _Gazette_ here says that many of your
countrymen agree with you about the new one. At the declaration of
hostilities the flags of the shipping at Boston were placed at