The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-07-23
A Son OF His FOrefathers.

Tom Brewster was as patriotic little
boy as New England has ever produced.
His father was remotely descended from
the famous Elder Brewster of the May
flower, a fact in which Tom took great sat-
isfaction and pride. Their home was near
Plymouth, a place which is, as it should
be, the fountain-head of American patriot.
ism, and Tom had grown up on intimate
terms, as it were with the famous rock
and all the traditions of the town. He
was only twelve, but he had read so
many stories about the Pilgrims and
their struggles, and their fights with the
Indians, about the stirring days of the
Revolution and the Boys of 49," that he
seemed more at home with these old
times than with his own. He knew all
the battles of independence by heart, and
had fought them all through. from begin
ming to end, with an army of paper
soldiers, which he had constructed nomi-
nally for the amusement of his little
sisters, but really for his own.
Tom was clever with his fingers, and
this pasteboard army was triumph of
art in its way. There were not less than
nine hundred of these soldiers, all divided
into regiments and companies. Each tiny
figure was neatly cut out and painted in
uniform, scarlet or blue as the case might
be, and each had small cardboard sup
port under his feet, which held him firmly
in an upright position. The Highland
regiment wore their plaids and claymores,
the Fusileers their distinctive uniform,
and the Hessians theirs-Tom had studied
them all carefully out of books. The
captains and lieutenants had swords and
epaulets. The generals were mounted on
horses-such pretty horses, with waving
names and tails, painted roam or gray or
black There were army wagons and
cannons and caissons and forts, all made
of pasteboard, and it would have given
the children unmixed satisfaction, except
for one unhappy circumstance, which was
that none Of the little Brewsters were
willing to be the British
Isabel, who was next in age to Tom,
used to run away and hide, sometimes, in
order to escape the odious necessity.
cit is such shame" she told her
mother; tom will always make me the
English. 1t isn't fair, is it mamma? l
love my own country just as much as he
does, and he ought to take turns; but he
never will So have to wear uniform
which dislike and disapprove of, and 1
don't take any pleasure in beating, for Of
course I'd rather have my own country
men victorious. hate to play at armies I;
and Tom keeps on making more soldiers
all the time, and he says he always shall.
And when won't play he calls me un-pa.
tri-ot-ic |" With this last long word, Isa-
bells eyes overlooked. The charge seemed
too heavy to be borne.
Mamma couldn't help smiling, but she
comforted Isabel as we'll as she could, and
she told Tom in private that he absolutely
must let her be the American army some.
times. This, however, Tom could not do.
He did not mean to be selfish, but his
love of liberty was so strong that even in
fun he was not willing to take the side of
the tyrannical "Mother Country" He lost
interest in soldiers after his mother said
that, and before long he gave them all
away tosome baby cousins.
Tom, with all his good qualities, had
the faults of his age. He was lazy, some
times selfish. He was inclined to be
dainty as to what he eat, and had sad
habit of carelessness and disorder. Only
week after Forefather's day his mother
noticed him at supper, looking rather dis
contentedly at the dishes on the table
bridget, pass the corn-bread to Master
Tom" she said.
"No, thank you," quoth Tom, {" dom
like corn-bread. Why didn't we have
mullins tonight, mamma ?"
How about some apple-sauce ?" asked
his father.
81 don't like that either, Papa. Couldn'
l have little orange marmalade, nam
map"
"No, Tom, I think not. You know
what l have told you, that can't hav,
you children sending away for differen
sorts OF jam at tea to please your separate
fancies. There are too many of you TO
that, but shouldn't approve of it even i
there was but one. Eat what is on tn
table. dear, or 60 without"
Tom said no more. He ate slice o
bread and butter rather languidly, an,
then asked to be excused. Mamma foun
him in the library after tea, absorbed il
Pioneers and Founders, book of whic
he was very fond. He had already fol-
gotten his little grievance about the jan
and looking up brightly as she bent owe
his shoulder,
Weren't the Pilgrims grand, mamma
Aren't you glad we're descended fror
them ?"
eyes, very glad, provided the thing
that made them so grand descend to U
Also"
ooh, yes-bravery and all that"
I" Some smaller things, too, Ton
Think how patiently they bore hardship
in the outset. The first year they hardl
ever had enough to eat, you know. A
the stores they had brought in the shi
were used up, and the grain they plante
was not ripe"
81 remember. And how they had tn
first Thanksgiving because the ships can
back with more supplies
"Yes, and because they had reape
their first harvest How good that fir
corn-bread must have tasted to them
Don't you think SO, Tom 2"
There was a meaning tone in mamma
voice which made Toms cheeks turn
little red
"Can't you fancy them at supper" 81
went on, seating their own corn-cak
the first made from their own fields ?