"Wal, boys, now you 're goin' among real, old-fashioned gentility. Them Kitterys used to hold their heads 'mazin' high afore the war, and they've managed by hook and crook to hold on to most what they got, and now by-gones is bygones. But I believe they don't go out much, or go into company. Old Ma'am Kittery, she's kind o' broke up about her son that was killed at the Delaware."
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"Fighting on the wrong side, poor woman," said my grandmother. "Well, I s'pose he thought he was doing right."
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"Yes, yes," said Sam, "there's all sorts o' folks go to make up a world, and, lordy massy, we must n't be hard on nobody; can't 'spect everybody to be right all round; it's what I tell Polly when she sniffs at Lady Lothrop keepin' Christmas and Easter and sich. 'Lordy massy, Polly,' says I, 'if she reads her Bible, and 's good to the poor, and don't speak evil o' nobody, why, let her have her Easter; what's the harm on 't?' But, lordy massy bless your soul an' body! there's no kind o' use talkin' to Polly. She fumed away there, over her i'nin' table; she did n't believe in folks that read their prayers out o' books; and then she hed it all over about them tew thousan' ministers that was all turned out o' the church in one day in old King Charles's time. Now, raily, Mis' Badger, I don't see why Lady Lothrop should be held 'sponsible for that are, if she is 'Piscopalian."
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"Well, well," said my grandmother; "they did turn out the very best men in England, but the Lord took 'em for seed to plant America with. But no wonder we feel it: burnt children dread the fire. I've nothing against Lady Lothrop, and I don't wish evil to the Episcopalians nor to the Tories. There's good folks among 'em all, and 'the Lord knoweth them that are his.' But I do hope, Horace, that, when you get to Boston, you will go out on to Copps Hill and see the graves of the Saints. There are the men that I want my children to remember. You come here, and let me read you about them in my 'Magnaly'* here." And with this my grandmother produced her well-worn copy; and, to say the truth, we were never tired of hearing what there was in it. What legends, wonderful and stirring, of the solemn old forest life,of fights with the Indians, and thrilling adventures, and captivi-
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| | *Dr. Cotton Mather's "Magnalia."
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