think of half-a-dozen strings of red onions, for one item in a subaltern's
stores!"

My grandfather grunted again, in a way that might very well pass for a
laugh.

"You're certain they were red, Joey?" he finally asked.

"As red as his regimentals. Then there was a jug, filled with molasses,
that is as big as yonder demijohn;" glancing at the vessel which contained
his own private stores. "But I should have thought nothing of these, a
large empty sack attracting much of my attention. I could not imagine what
young Tom could want of such a sack; but, on broaching the subject to the
Major, he very frankly gave me to understand that Louisbourg was thought to
be a rich town, and there was no telling what luck, or Providence--yes, by
George!--he called it _Providence!_--might throw in his son Tommy's way.
Now that the sack was empty, and had an easy time of it, the girls would
put his bible and hymn-book in it, as a place where the young man would be
likely to look for them. I dare say, Hodge, you never had either bible or
hymn-book, in any of your numerous campaigns?"

"No, nor a plunder-sack, nor a molasses-jug, nor strings of red onions,"
growled my grandfather in reply.

How well I remember that evening! A vast deal of colonial prejudice and
neighbourly antipathy made themselves apparent in the conversation of
the two veterans; who seemed to entertain a strange sort of contemptuous
respect for their fellow-subjects of New England; who, in their turn,
I make not the smallest doubt, paid them off in kind--with all the
superciliousness and reproach, and with many grains less of the respect.