The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-07-13

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mosphere of excitement and to have
a sense of awe and fear. What would
be the consequence to him should he
throw the egg at Joseph Warren? He
thought of Queen Charlotte.
The song rang on:
Then join hand in hand. brave Americans ALL
To be free is to live. to be slaves is to fall.
Has the land such a bastard as scorns not a
lord,
Who breads not the fetter far more than the
sword?
For Freedom we're born.
And, like sons of the brave,
Well never surrender,
But swear to defend her,
And scorn to survive If unable to save"
The excitement grew. The people
pressed one upon another. Eleven
o'clock came. The orator had not
arrived.
He has been arrested" said one.
1t was false report, but it flew.
There was look in the faces of the
patriots that was anxious and awful.
1t seemed like the shadow of an on
coming tempest. One could feel in
the palpitating air its influence, its
import and meaning. The boy began
to gaze about wildly and to tremble,
but he carefully guarded the egg.
He held it tight. He thought of
Queen Charlotte, and squeezed it as
firmly as King George squeezed the
revenues of the empire. The pulpit
was draped in black. 1t looked omin-
GUS and foreboding. Samuel Adams
was there in his seat, John Hancock
in his seat, the Sons of Liberty in
their places. Women were there with
stately bonnets, grey gowns, and
white, anxious faces. The doors and
aisles were full of firm-set lips and
glancing eyes.
The slow minutes passed, but War
rem did not come. There was deep
silence that became oppressive. 1t
was thirty minutes past the hour.
Had he been arrestedi
There was a clatter at the great
window of the church. A figure rose
up in that gray light in full view of
the stan tied congregation, like a
sptcter. 1t was the form of Warren
in the dark robes of an orator.
The window was lifted. Hearts beat
flster, and all eyes were fixed upon
the beautiful face and the dark robes
of the young patriot. Warren had
been unable to make his way through
the crowd, and he had gone up to the
side of the church and mounted a
ladder, and SO entered by the great
pulpit window, whose historic panes
had ratified in the winds that shat
tered the feet of D'Auville, that had
been sent out for the destruction of
Boston.
The scene awed all. Every eye and
ear was strained. Every form sought
to bend forward and listen Slowly,
solemnly, came the first words of the
orator:
1T is not without the most humili
ating conviction of my want of abil-
ity that Inow appear before you"
The people pressed upon each other
in their eagerness to hear.
81 mourn over my bleeding coun-
try"
Eyes moistened, and the ar became
electric with sympathy. The orators
words famed. His face glowed. He
burst into strain of passionate elo
queEce and described the scene of
the massacre on the 9th of March:
"The baleful images of terror crowd
around me, and disconnected ghosts,
with hollow groans.
Approach we the melancholy walk
of death
"We wildly stare about, and with
amazement ask, Who spread this ruin
around u.s. Has naughty France or
cruel Spain sent forth her myrmi
dons9 Has the grim savage rushed
again from the far wildernessi No,
none of these. 1t is the hand of Bri-
tain that inficts the woundl'"
AT this point of profound sensitive
ness, the officer thought that his OPP
portunity had come. He glanced at
the boy, and the lad raised his tremb-
ling arm and his face turned white.
Rodney felt something cutting his
hand. He relinquished his grasp
little and gasped.
The egg was broken. What would
Queen Charlotte say now. He opened