Sarah J Prichard

The Only Woman in the Town Sarah J Prichard

Once and again that morning, a friendly hand had pulled the latch-string at Martha Moulton's kitchen entrance and offered to convey herself and treasures away, but, to either proffer, she had said: "No, I must stay until Uncle John gets the cricks out of his back, if all the British soldiers in the land march into town." At last, came Joe Devins, a lad of fifteen years-Joe's two astonished eyes peered for a moment into Martha Moulton's kitchen, and then eyes and owner dashed into the room, to learn what the sight he there saw could mean. "Whew! Mother Moulton, what are you doing?" "I'm getting Uncle John his breakfast to be sure, Joe," she answered. "Have you seen so many sights this morning that you don't know breakfast, when you see it? Have a care there, for hot fat will burn," as she deftly poured the contents of a pan, fresh from the fire, into a dish. Hungry Joe had been astir since the first drum had beat to arms at two of the clock.