her a hundred acres of land to encourage and reward her.  She worked just like a man, and didn’t mind chopping down trees, and cultivating the soil, with her own hands.  But by-and-bye the Revolution broke out, and as there were British soldiers in the neighborhood, she was afraid they would make her a visit.  She fled several times to another town, where there was less danger; but after awhile a new idea entered her head, and she proceeded to carry it out, with the aid of a man who lived near her.  The idea was, to construct a hiding-place, where the British could not find them, if they should pay her a visit.  They selected a spot on Otter Creek, and dug a hole right into the bank, horizontally.  The hole was a little above the water, and was just large enough for a person to crawl into.  It was so covered up by bushes that hung from the bank, that a stranger would not notice it.  This passage led to a large lodging-room, the bottom of which was covered with straw.  Good comfortable beds were prepared, and here the families found a secure retreat, until the danger was past.”

“That was complete,” said Oscar; “but I should think the British might have tracked them to their retreat, for it’s likely they had to go home pretty often, to get food, and look after things.”

“Yes,” added his grandmother; “but they reached their retreat by a canoe, so that no footsteps could be seen leading to it; and they were careful not to go out or in during the day-time.  I have heard my brother James tell about it.  I believe he saw the very hole once, where they went in.”

“Uncle James was a famous hand for telling stories,” remarked Mrs. Preston.  “I shall never forget what a treat it was to me, when I was a child, to have him come to our house.  I used to run out and meet him, when I saw him coming, and coax him to tell me a good lot of stories before he went off.  I can remember some of them even now.  He used to tell a story of a crabbed old fellow, who was very much annoyed by the boys stealing his apples.  So, after awhile, he got a spring-trap, and set it under the trees, to catch the young rogues.  But the boys got wind of the affair, and the first night he set it, they picked it up, and very quietly put it on his door-step, and then went back to the orchard, and began to bellow as though they were in great distress.  The old man heard the uproar, and started out, in high glee at the idea of catching his tormentors; but he hardly put his foot out of the door, before he began to roar himself, and he was laid up a month with a sore leg.”

“That was old Zigzag,” said the grandmother; “I knew him very well.”

“Old Zigzag!—­what a funny name!” exclaimed Ralph.