The more, because I kind o' felt as if
Whatever happed I'd had a hand in it.

_Mrs. Secord_. And pray where did you hide? for hide you must,
So near the Yankee lines.

_Quaker_. It wasn't hard to do; I knew the ground,
Being a hired boy on that very farm,
Now Jemmy Gap's. There was an elm, where once
I used to sit and watch for chipmunks, that I clomb,
And from its shade could see the Yankee camp,
Its straggling line, its fires, its careless watch;
And from the first I knew the fight was ours,
If Harvey struck that night.

_Mr. Secord_. Ha! ha! friend John, thine is a soldier's brain
Beneath that Quaker hat.

_Quaker_ (_in some embarrassment, rising_).
No, no, I am a man of peace, and hate
The very name of war. I must be gone.
(_To Mrs. Secord_.) My woman longs to see thee, Mistress.
Good-bye to all.

_The Little Girls_ (_rising_). Good-bye, sir.

_Mrs. Secord_. Good-bye, John,
'Twould please me much to see my friend again,
But war blots out the sweet amenities
Of life. Give her my love.