: Farthest North The Life and Explorations of Lieutenant James Booth Lockwood of the Greely Arctic Expedition by Lanman Charles - Arctic regions; Lockwood James Booth 1852-1884; Lady Franklin Bay Expedition (1881-1884)

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PAGE The Only Woman in the Town 9 A Windham Lamb in Boston Town 38 How One Boy Helped the British Troops Out of Boston in 1776 47 Pussy Dean's Beacon Fire 67 David Bushnell and His American Turtle 75 The Birthday of Our Nation 117 The Overthrow of the Statue of King George 127 Sleet and Snow 135 Patty Rutter: The Quaker Doll who slept in Independence Hall 151 Becca Blackstone's Turkeys at Valley Forge 159 How Two Little Stockings Saved Fort Safety 169 A Day and a Night in the Old Porter House 181

THE ONLY WOMAN IN THE TOWN.

One hundred years and one ago, in Boston, at ten of the clock one April night, a church steeple had been climbed and a lantern hung out.

At ten, the same night, in mid-river of the Charles, oarsmen two, with passenger silent and grim, had seen the signal light out-swung, and rowed with speed for the Charlestown shore.

At eleven, the moon was risen, and the grim passenger, Paul Revere, had ridden up the Neck, encountered a foe, who opposed his ride into the country, and, after a brief delay, had gone on, leaving a British officer lying in a clay pit.

At midnight, a hundred ears had heard the flying horseman cry, "Up and arm. The Regulars are coming out!"

You know the story well. You have heard how the wild alarm ran from voice to voice and echoed beneath every roof, until the men of Lexington and Concord were stirred and aroused with patriotic fear for the safety of the public stores that had been committed to their keeping.

You know how, long ere the chill April day began to dawn, they had drawn, by horse power and by hand power, the cherished stores into safe hiding-places in the depth of friendly forest-coverts.

Once and again that morning, a friendly hand had pulled the latch-string at Martha Moulton's kitchen entrance and offered to convey herself and treasures away, but, to either proffer, she had said: "No, I must stay until Uncle John gets the cricks out of his back, if all the British soldiers in the land march into town."

At last, came Joe Devins, a lad of fifteen years--Joe's two astonished eyes peered for a moment into Martha Moulton's kitchen, and then eyes and owner dashed into the room, to learn what the sight he there saw could mean.

"Whew! Mother Moulton, what are you doing?"

"So they tell me," she said, serenely. "There comes Uncle John!" she added, as the clatter of a staff on the stone steps of the stairway outrang, for an instant, the cries of hurrying and confusion that filled the air of the street.

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