pits where the clay was found were only a few rods from the house;
yet no man ventured to bring the clay to the yard within the
inclosure, without the attendance of a file of soldiers. An anecdote
relating to this garrison has been handed down to the present time.
Among its inmates were two young cousins, Joseph and Mary
Whittaker; the latter a merry, handsome girl, relieving the tedium of
garrison-duty with her light-hearted mirthfulness and--

"Making a sunshine in that shady place."(1)

(1) "Her angel's face
As the great eye of heaven shyned bright
And made a sunshine in the shadie place;
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace."

Spenser: *The Faerie Queene,* bk. I. canto iii. st. 4.


Joseph, in the intervals of his labors in the double capacity of
brick-maker and man-at-arms, was assiduous in his attentions to his
fair cousin, who was not inclined to encourage him. Growing
desperate, he threatened one evening to throw himself into the
garrison well. His threat only called forth the laughter of his
mistress; and, bidding her farewell, he proceeded to put it in
execution. On reaching the well he stumbled over a log;
whereupon, animated by a happy idea, he dropped the wood into
the water instead of himself, and, hiding behind the curb, awaited
the result. Mary, who had been listening at the door, and who had
not believed her lover capable of so rash an act, heard the sudden
plunge of the wooden Joseph. She ran to the well, and, leaning