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 scornfully, for once not to be cheered. "Nay, the British like their comfort too well to venture forth this night!" And she fell into a gloomy reverie, wishing she might have formed a third of the little Newark-bound group, for the days, after their exciting Morris Town visit, seemed doubly monotonous.

Mehitable, doubtless because she was glad to get away from their Newark Mountain farm, was chatteringly happy, jogging along beside her father.

"And the American raid over to Staten Island was a failure, ye say, Hitty?" Squire Condit returned to the topic which had excited his interest ever since his daughter, primed with the latest war news, had returned from the army encampment.

"Aye, for all Quartermaster Lewis got the three hundred sleds together for the army, sir! They marched to Elizabethport and went across on the ice to Staten Island. They do say about three thousand men went, under Lord Stirling." Mehitable was as loquacious, and her father listened as eagerly, as though it were the first time, instead of nearer the tenth, that she had told of the incident.

"And the British had got word o' our army's coming?" prompted Squire Condit.

"Aye, Father." Mehitable sighed. "The expedition, forsooth, was a rank failure, for our men