"
"Whew-ew-ew--what a noble commander you'd make for Sergeant Hollister!
You'd preach him dumb in a roll call. Harkee, I'll thank you not to make
such a noise when you hold forth, as to drown our bugles, or you may get
a poor fellow a short horn at his grog, for not turning out to the
evening parade. If you want to be alone, have you no knife to stick over
the door latch, that you must have a troop of horse to guard your
meetinghouse?"
The peddler took the hint, and closed the door immediately, using the
precaution suggested by the dragoon.
"You overact your part," said young Wharton, in constant apprehension of
discovery; "your zeal is too intemperate."
"For a foot soldier and them Eastern militia, it might be," said
Harvey, turning a bag upside down, that Caesar now handed him; "but
these dragoons are fellows that you must brag down. A faint heart,
Captain Wharton, would do but little here; but come, here is a black
shroud for your good-looking countenance," taking, at the same time, a
parchment mask, and fitting it to the face of Henry. "The master and the
man must change places for a season."
"I don't t'ink he look a bit like me," said Caesar, with disgust, as he
surveyed his young master with his new complexion.
"Stop a minute, Caesar," said the peddler, with the lurking drollery
that at times formed part of his manner, "till we get on the wool.
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