THE VALUE OF A FRIEND

As the sun rose on the following morning, Brereton
came cantering up to headquarters.
"Is his Excellency gone?" he demanded of the
sentry, and received reply that Washington had
ridden away toward the south ten minutes before. Leaving
his horse with the man, the aide ran into the house and returned
in a moment with a great hunk of corn bread and two
sausages in his hand. Springing into the saddle, he set off at
a rapid trot, munching voraciously as he rode.

"Steady, dear lass," he remarked to the mare. "If you
make me lose any of this cake, I'll never forgive you, Janice."

Fifteen minutes served to bring the officer to a group of
horsemen busy with field-glasses. Riding into their midst, he
saluted, and said: "The Maryland regiments are in position,
your Excellency." Then falling a little back, he looked out
over the plain stretched before them. Barely had he taken
in the two Continental regiments lying "at ease" half-way
down the heights on which he was, and the line of their
pickets on the level ground, when three companies of red-coated
light infantry debouched from the woods that covered
the corresponding heights to the southward. As the skirmishers
fell back on their supports, the British winded their bugles
triumphantly, sounding, not a military order, but the fox-hunting
"stole away,"--a blare intended to show their utter
contempt for the Americans.