Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 19

Our _king-posts_ are _judges_: how upright they stand, Supporting the _braces_; the laws of the land: The laws of the land, which divide right from wrong, And strengthen the weak, by weak'ning the strong: _For our roof we will raise, and our song still shall be_ _Laws equal and just, for a people that's free._

Up! up with the _rafters_; each frame is a _state_: How n.o.bly they rise! their span, too, how great!

From the north to the south, o'er the whole they extend, And rest on the walls, whilst the walls they defend: _For our roof we will raise, and our song still shall be_ _Combine in strength, yet as citizens free._

Now enter the _purlins_, and drive your pins through; And see that your joints are drawn home and all true.

The _purlins_ will bind all the rafters together: The strength of the whole shall defy wind and weather: _For our roof we will raise, and our song still shall be_ _United as states, but as citizens free._

Come, raise up the _turret_; our glory and pride; In the center it stands, o'er the whole to _preside_: The sons of Columbia shall view with delight Its pillars, and arches, and towering height: _Our roof is now rais'd, and our song still shall be,_ _A federal head o'er a people that's free._

Huzza! my brave boys, our work is complete; The world shall admire Columbia's fair seat; Its strength against tempest and time shall be proof, And thousands shall come to dwell under our roof: _Whilst we drain the deep bowl, our toast still shall be,_ _Our government firm, and our citizens free._

"Now that we have put the United States on a good running foundation, I think we might finish up our Revolutionary history by whirling out to Valley Forge," said Mrs. Morton. "It's a delightful ride, and I think we could do it comfortably in what is left of the afternoon."

"I shall be glad," said Helen, pretending extreme fatigue, "for these ignorant people have made me work so hard remembering dates and things, that I'm quite exhausted, and I'd like to sit still and view the scenery for a while."

The chauffeur said that he could manage the ride and even give them time for a walk when they reached their destination, if they were not in a hurry to return.

"I think it would be fun to come back in the evening," said Margaret, and they started off with great satisfaction.

As they pa.s.sed Fairmount Park they promised themselves to see it in detail in the morning, but now there was only time to notice that much of it had been left in a natural condition, which was far more beautiful than any results that Art could have brought about.

The road lay through a rolling country with pleasant suburban towns and comfortable-looking farm houses. At Valley Forge they felt like real pilgrims at a shrine, for they remembered the bitter suffering of the American soldiers and the even greater mental anguish of their leader, who sometimes felt that he had led his brave men into this distress, and might not be able to lead them to the victory which he must have, if the colonies were to become independent of the land they had sprung from.

Across the surrounding hills they walked, reading with utmost interest the monuments and markers which commemorate events and places and people connected with this fateful winter. Below swept the Schuylkill River, between peaceful banks, far different from those that hem it in farther down, as it runs through the great city.

CHAPTER X THE LAND OF "CAT-FISH AND WAFFLES"

It was a tired party that tumbled into bed that night but the long ride in the fresh air made them sleep like tops and they awoke the next morning entirely refreshed, and ready to start out again on their investigations of the City of Brotherly Love.

"To-day I am not going to open my mouth," said Helen. "I talked altogether too much yesterday."

"You were a wonder," said Tom, admiringly. "I wish I could remember dates the way you do."

"Hush," said Helen, with a finger on her lip. "My energetic grandfather blocked out the whole history of Philadelphia in the revolutionary days for me, so it was not my unaided memory that reeled off all that information. Any way, I'm going to sit back and have the rest of you inform me to-day about the places we shall see."

"What are we going to see?" inquired Roger. "Mother, you know this village; can't you make out a list for us?"

Mrs. Morton said that she had some suggestions to make and Roger jotted them down in a book.

"There are one or two churches," she said, "which have an interest because they are old, or have connection with some important person or because there is some strangeness about the way they are built."

"I shall like those," said Ethel Blue. "I'm going to try to draw some of the doorways for Miss Graham. She asked me to draw any little thing about buildings that I thought would interest her."

"You'll see some old-timey doorways in Rittenhouse Square," said Mrs.

Morton. "That is like Was.h.i.+ngton Square in New York, only here the whole square has been preserved in its former beauty. You'll find more than one doorway, and which will be worth putting into your sketch book."

"Would it take too much time to see the Mint?" asked James. "I shouldn't want to suggest it if it will take too long, but it would be awfully interesting."

"I had the Mint on my list," said Mrs. Morton, tapping her forehead.

"I'll transfer it from that spot to paper," laughed Roger.

"I hope we can get the same chauffeur we had yesterday," said Ethel Brown; "he knew a lot about things."

"I suppose he's accustomed to driving tourists," replied her mother.

As good fortune would have it they were able to secure the same car, and the good-natured driver beamed at them, as they stowed themselves away as they had the day before. Mrs. Morton told him the chief "sights" which they wanted to see, and directed him to point out anything that they pa.s.sed which would have some interest for the young people.

First they went over to the old part of the town along the Delaware, to find one of the churches of which Mrs. Morton had spoken. On the way they stopped at Christ Church. Its high box pews seemed to them full of dignity, and they imagined the elaborately arranged head-dresses of the ladies and powdered wigs of the gentlemen, rising above the old-fas.h.i.+oned seats. The pulpit was high up on one side of the chancel.

"This is the church that was presided over by Bishop White, the first Episcopal bishop of Pennsylvania," said Mrs. Morton. "He was influential in organizing the Episcopal Church in this country."

Out in the graveyard, whose quiet seemed strangely out of place amid the hurry of the city, they found many stones bearing well-known names, among them that of Benjamin Franklin.

"He died in 1790," read Delia, from the stone. "Wasn't that just about the time Was.h.i.+ngton was elected President?"

"One year after," said Helen, who could not resist giving historical information. "The first real American Congress after the separation of the country from England met here in Philadelphia in 1789, and elected Was.h.i.+ngton as President."

"You can't escape a little history as long as Sister Helen is around,"

murmured Roger.

"It wasn't I who started it," retorted Helen.

"Now, children, be quiet. You may thank your stars that your sister knows so much about history," said Mrs. Morton; "it would be an excellent thing, Roger, if you stowed away some of it in your brain, too."

"Yes'm," answered Roger meekly.

It was while the car was on its way to the second old church of their search that the chauffeur asked James, who was sitting beside him, if he knew that "Hail Columbia" was written in Philadelphia.

"I certainly didn't," said James. "Helen, did you know that 'Hail Columbia' was written in Philadelphia?"

"No, I didn't know that," said Helen. "Tell me about it."

With his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel the chauffeur told James, who repeated the story over his shoulder to those in the back of the car, that while John Adams was president, there was a war scare, because French vessels were supposed to be off the coast ready to attack American merchant vessels. A man named John Hopkinson wrote the poem, which was sung one night at the Chestnut Street Theatre.

"You mean our 'Hail Columbia'--the regular 'Hail Columbia'?" asked Ethel Brown.

The chauffeur nodded at Ethel Brown. Her memory for verses was always good and she repeated the first stanza of the stirring song.

"Hail Columbia, happy land!

Hail! Ye Heroes, heaven-born band, Who fought and bled in freedom's cause, Who fought and bled in freedom's cause, And when the storm of war was gone, Enjoyed the peace your valor won; Let independence be your boast, Ever mindful what it cost, Ever grateful for the prize, Let its altar reach the skies."

They all joined in the chorus.

"Firm united let us be, Rallying round our liberty, As a band of brothers joined, Peace and safety we shall find."