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THE BOY PATRIOT.
by
EDWARD SYLVESTER ELLIS,
The Author of
"The Blue Flag," "Cheerily, Cheerily," Etc.
[Illustration]
"HE WILL BLESS THEM THAT FEAR THE LORD, BOTH SMALL AND
GREAT."
[Illustration]
Published by the
American Tract Society,
150 Nassau-Street, New York.
The character of Blair Robertson, the Fairport boy, will not have been
sketched in vain, if it prompt one young American to such a hearty
serving of God as will make him a blessing to our dear native land. We
have laid the scene of our story fifty years ago, but we trust that its
lessons will be none the less appropriate to the present day.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by the
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, in the Clerk's Office of the District
Court of the Southern District of the State of New York.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Fairport 5
CHAPTER II.
The young Orator 9
CHAPTER III.
The English Boy 25
CHAPTER IV.
The Patriot's Work 36
CHAPTER V.
Blair's Company 44
CHAPTER VI.
A Pilot 65
CHAPTER VII.
No! 62
CHAPTER VIII.
The Storm 69
CHAPTER IX
A Reward 74
CHAPTER X.
A New Deck 80
CHAPTER XI.
"Mum" 86
CHAPTER XII.
The First Effort 95
CHAPTER XIII.
Temptation 105
CHAPTER XIV.
"Derry Duck" 113
CHAPTER XV.
A Letter 128
CHAPTER XVI.
A Marvel 134
CHAPTER XVII.
The Conflict 144
CHAPTER XVIII.
Wages 152
CHAPTER XIX.
Home 160
CHAPTER XX.
Sacred Joy 170
CHAPTER XXI.
Conclusion 174
THE BOY PATRIOT.
CHAPTER I.
FAIRPORT.
Were you ever on the coast of Maine? If so, you know how the rocky
shores stretch out now and then clear into the ocean, and fret the salt
waves till they are all in a foam. Old Ocean is not to be so set at
defiance and have his rightful territory wrung from him, without taking
his revenge after his own fashion. Far up into the land he sends his
arms, and crooks and bends and makes his way amid the rocks, and finally
falls asleep in some quiet harbor, where the tall pines stand by the
shore to sing him a lullaby.
In just such a spot as this the town we shall call Fairport was built.
Axe in one hand and Bible in the other, stern settlers here found a
home. Strong hard-featured sons, and fair rosy-cheeked daughters made
glad the rude cabins that were soon scattered along the shore. The axe
was plied in the woods, and the needle by the fireside, and yet grim
Poverty was ever shaking her fist in the very faces of the settlers, and
whispering sad things of what the uncertain future might have in store
for them.
Cheerily they bore the hardships of the present hour, and a deaf ear
they turned to all such whispers. Yet those settlers were sensible,
matter-of-fact men; and it was soon plain to them, that healthful as
were the breezes that made so rosy the cheeks of their daughters,
Fairport was not the very best site in the world for a settlement, at
least if its people were to depend on the thin and rocky soil won from
the forest, which scarcely produced the bare necessaries of life.
Was Fairport given up in despair? No, no. Her settlers were not the men
to be so daunted and foiled. If the land was unkindly, they could take
to the water; and so they did, to a man. Some were off to the
Newfoundland Banks, tossing about the codfish, and piling them up into
stacks that were more profitable than any hay of their own raising. Some
were on board swift vessels, doing a good share of the carrying trade
between the West Indies and the New England cities. Some were seeking
the whale far in the northern seas; while others, less enterprising,
were content to fish nearer home for all sorts of eatable dwellers in
the sea, from halibut to herring.
Now a new day had begun for Fairport. The original cabins began to
tower in the air or encroach on the submissive gardens, as building
after building was added by the prosperous owners. Miniature villas,
with a wealth of useless piazzas, appeared in the neighborhood of the
town, and substantial wharves bordered one side of the quiet harbor, and
gave a welcome to the shipping that seemed to grow and cluster there
like the trees of a forest.
Fairport had passed the struggles of its early youth when our story
begins, though there were gray-haired citizens yet within its borders
who could tell how the bears had once looked in at their cabin windows,
and the pine-trees had stood thick in what was now the main street of
the rising town.