during the morning, began to assume the dimensions of a crowd. Widow
Bingham, at the tavern, had deemed it expedient to keep the right side
of the lawless element by a rather free extension of credit at the
bar, and there was a good deal of hilarity, which, together with the
atmosphere of excitement created by the recent stirring events, made
it seem quite like a gala occasion. Women and girls were there in
considerable numbers, the latter wearing their ribbons, and walking
about in groups together, or listening to their sweethearts, as each
explained to a credulous auditor, how yesterday's great events had
hinged entirely on the narrator's individual presence and prowess.

Some of the youths, the preceding night, had cut a tall sapling and
set it in the middle of the green, in front of the tavern. On the top
of this had been fixed the cocked hat of Justice Goodrich, brought as
a trophy from Great Barrington. This was the center of interest, the
focus of the crowd, a visible, palpable proof of the people's victory
over the courts, which was the source of inextinguishable hilarity. It
was evident, indeed, from the conversation of the children, that there
existed in the minds of those of tender years, some confusion as to
the previous ownership of the hat, and the circumstances connected
with its acquisition by the people. Some said that it was Burgoyne's
hat, and others that it was the hat of King George, himself, while the
affair of the day before at Great Barrington, was variously
represented as a victory over the redcoats, the Indians and the
Tories. But, whatever might be the differences of opinion on these
minor points, the children were uproariously agreed that there was
something to be exceedingly joyful about.

Next to the hat, two uncouth-looking machines which stood on the green
near the stocks, were the centers of interest. They were wooden