Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1892-02-18

self? What would they see? They
grew strangely silent all at cnce.
"Halt!' suddenly cried hoarse
voice, and grim figure rose out of the
fsnow directly in front of them. '"rhe
countersign."
The boys brought the team to a
standstill They had not thought any
thing about the countersign, and for a
moment did not know what to do or
say. AS they hesitated the stern SEN
tinel lowered his musket, and ex-
claimed, with good-natured earnest
ness:
''Well, I'll be blamed if one of you
amt Job Granger's son, an you bean't
no tory if he is one. But what in the
name of wonder are you doin' here?'
"Why, it's Aaron Whittemore, as l
live," cried Gideon, with pleased sur
prise.
Eyes, your mothers own cousin, an
swered Aaron. ''It's lucky you found
me here; but what did We say you were
after?"
1--WE want to see the commander in
chief. Can't you let us pass?"
Hardly. I guess, without orders; but
can help you. sergeant-Sergeant
Jenkins!' he shouted.
Half dozen figures rose from be-
fore a fire blazing in front of a hut OF
boughs at few rods distance, and
one of them advanced toward the SEN
tinel.
Here's two patriot lads to see the
, general said Aaron. ''They don't
| know the countersign, but they're all
right. I'll vouch for them
The officer regarded them sharply,
and asked their Grand
eve have brought present to Gen.
Washington, and we would like to
be shown to his quarters" answered
Gideon.
ooh, Washington isn't quartered
here; but you'll find him, nevertheless,
I'm thinking. for he came in an hour
ago, he and Lee and Greene and Put
nam. Follow me, lads, and don't be
skeered.''
With this encouraging injunction
Gideon and Bert whipped up their
steers and presently were following
the sergeant along the beaten path
that led among the cherries homes
of the nations defenders. Before they
had gone dozen rods they were both
rejoicing that they had made an offer
ing of their abundance upon the altar
of their country; indeed, they wished
they could have done as much again.
They never forgot the narrowing
sights they saw that day. Around
feeble campfres were huddled pale,
stricken ghosts of men, half clad and
inadequately protected from the in
clement weather of the season. In
their ragged regimentals, half frozen
and half starved, they seemed but lily
fitted to cope with the luxuriously fed
hosts of Britain. Yet these were the
men Gideon knew that had wrested
victory from the d readed Hessians at
Trenton, and held their own against
English soldiers at Princeton.
Not few of these veterans were
grouped by the fires, with their feet
bound in pieces of old blankets, and
perhaps a faded shawl, the gift of
some wife or mother, thrown over
thei. shoulders. There they sat, gnaw-
ing refuse bones or che wing kernels OF
corn to sustain life. The more robust
stood on guard, and others were bring
ing in branches of trees and fence rails
for fuel 1t was solemn and, to the
young patriots, a harassing sight.
All at once cheer rose from the
miserable groups, a hearty, soul-thrill-
ing cheer, and the lean, crouching fig
ures rose eagerly to their feet.
The sudden blast of trumpet could
not have occasioned greater stir. All
eyes were turned in one direction, and
they saw riding down one of those mar
row woodland streets group of horse
men. At their head rode one whose
aspect was unmistakable.
Gideon never forgot the impression
he received from that commanding
figure and august countenance, and
years afterwards he was able to tell
his grandchildren just how Washing.
ton looked that morning. He lowered
in his saddle a splendid colossus, his
martial form wrapped in great horse
mans cloak. "a A thick muller was
doubled around his neck. The sharp,
frosty wind tinged his nose a deep
purple, but the rest of his face was
| perfectly colorless and wore troubled
! look, and his lips were tightly com,