ACT II.

SCENE I.--_The great kitchen at St. David's Mill. Breakfast-time_.

_At the board are seated the_ Widow Stephen Secord, Sergeant George
Mosier, _and little_ Tom. Babette _is waiting at table_.

_Widow_. 'Tis pitiful to see one's land go waste
For want of labour, and the summer days,
So rich in blessing, spend their fruitful force
On barren furrows. And then to think
That over both the Provinces it is the same,--
No men to till the land, because the war
Needs every one. God knows how we shall feed
Next year: small crop, small grist,--a double loss
To me. The times are anxious.
(_To Sergeant Mosier_.) Have you news?

_Sergeant_. Not much, ma'am, all is pretty quiet still
Since Harvey struck them dumb at Stony Creek.
Along the Lake bold Yeo holds them fast,
And, Eric-way, Bisshopp and Evans back him.
Thus stand we now; but Proctor's all too slow.
O had we Brock again, bold, wise, and prompt,
That foreign rag that floats o'er Newark's spires
Would soon go down, and England's ensign up.