Them was the
great days for fightin'! The Husshons was the biggest men I ever
seen on the field, most of 'em standin' six feet eight in their
stockin's,--but Lord! how we walloped 'em! Once we had a cannon
mounted an' loaded for 'em that was so large we had to draw the
ball into it with a yoke of oxen!"
Bill paused from force of habit, just as he had paused for the
last twenty years. There had been times when roars of incredulous
laughter had greeted this boast, but most of this particular
group had heard the yarn more than once and let it pass with a
smile and a wink, remembering the night that Abel Day had asked
old Bill how they got the oxen out of the cannon on that most
memorable occasion.
"Oh!" said Bill, "that was easy enough; we jest unyoked 'em an'
turned 'em out o' the primin'-hole!"
It was only early October, but there had been a killing frost,
and Ezra Simms, who kept the brick store, flung some shavings and
small wood on the hearth and lighted a blaze, just to induce a
little trade and start conversation on what threatened to be a
dull evening. Peter Morrill, Jed's eldest brother, had lately
returned from a long trip through the state and into New
Hampshire, and his adventures by field and flood were always
worth listening to.
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