GOVERNOR HANCOCK
I did not meet him from the time I went to the French War till some ten years after the Revolution.
I called on him in Boston, and he was glad to see me, and had me up to his house to dinner and to spend the night.
Everything was magnificent. John was kind, but condescending—something like a great mogul receiving an inferior.
I had no favour to ask of him. I saw no reason why I should look up to and revere him. I had played my own part in life well and boldly and stood firm on my feet. When John found I was not in awe of his rank and magnificence, he gave up his grand airs and was again the bright, lively fellow I knew as a boy.
Hector and Donald Munro remained in this country. After the French War was over,they visited their kinsmen in Lexington, and then went to Rehoboth, where there is another branch of the family, and settled in that town.
My old wrestling-master, Jonas Parker, was killed on the common at Lexington, on the 19th of April, 1775. He had said in his grim way, "Some may run from the British, but I won't budge a foot."
He was in the front rank of the minutemen. He laid his hat on the ground before him, and in it placed his powder-horn and bullets.
When the British fired, he was wounded, and fell to his knees. He returned their fire, and was reloading, when the regulars ran forward and killed him with their bayonets.
Amos and Davy were in the Revolution, too. They never got over their love for fox-hunting and pigeon-shooting.
As I finish this record, sixty years have passed since we had the pigeon shoot on Bull Meadow Hill. Those of us who survive are old, but some of us are still hale and hearty.
AMOS HAS A STORY, TOO
I received a letter the other day from a friend in Lexington, in which he says:—
"About a week ago I saw your old friend, Amos Locke, ploughing in a field which joins on to my farm. I walked over to the wall. When he saw me, he left his plough, came to the wall, and said,—
"'Morning! M-mighty good day to go after p-pigeons. P-Puts me in mind of the d-day I was with Weaver David and B-Ben Comee, up on Bull Meadow Hill, and shot fifty-two p-pigeons at one shot. One for every week in the year. I'll t-tell you about it.'"
Transcriber's NoteTypographical errors corrected in the text:Page 160 c-could'nt changed to c-couldn't
Transcriber's Note